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                                  The
                           Expositor's Bible

                               Edited by
                    W. Robertson Nicoll, D.D., LL.D.

[Illustration]




                         THE EXPOSITORS' BIBLE

              _Edited by_ W. ROBERTSON NICOLL, D.D., LL.D.

         _New and Cheaper Edition. Printed from original plates
          Complete in every detail. Uniform with this volume_

      Price 50 cents per volume. (If by mail add 10 cents postage)


                         OLD TESTAMENT VOLUMES

    GENESIS. By Rev. Prof. Marcus Dods, D.D.

    EXODUS. By Very Rev. G. A. Chadwick, D.D., Dean of Armagh.

    LEVITICUS. By Rev. S. H. Kellogg, D.D.

    NUMBERS. By Rev. R. A. Watson, D.D.

    DEUTERONOMY. By. Rev. Prof. Andrew Harper, B.D.

    JOSHUA. By Rev. Prof. W. G. Blaikie, D.D., LL.D.

    JUDGES AND RUTH. By Rev. R. A. Watson, D.D.

    FIRST SAMUEL. By Rev. Prof. W. G. Blaikie, D.D., LL.D.

    SECOND SAMUEL. By same author.

    FIRST KINGS. By F. W. Farrar, D.D., Dean of Canterbury.

    SECOND KINGS. By same author.

    FIRST AND SECOND CHRONICLES. By Rev. Prof. W. H. Bennett.

    EZRA, NEHEMIAH, and ESTHER. By Rev. Prof. W. F. Adeney.

    JOB. By Rev. R. A. Watson, D.D.

    PSALMS. In 3 vols. Vol. I., Chapters I.-XXXVIII.; Vol. II.,
    Chapters XXXIX.-LXXXIX.; Vol. III., Chapters XC.-CL. By Rev.
    Alexander Maclaren, D.D.

    PROVERBS. By Rev. R. F. Horton, D.D.

    ECCLESIASTES. By Rev. Samuel Cox, D.D.

    SONG OF SOLOMON and LAMENTATIONS. By Rev. Prof. W. F. Adeney.

    ISAIAH. In 2 vols. Vol. I., Chapters I.-XXXIX.; Vol. II.,
    Chapters XL-LXVI. By Prof. George Adam Smith, D.D., LL.D.

    JEREMIAH. Chapters I.-XX. With a Sketch of his Life and Times. By
    Rev. C. J. Ball.

    JEREMIAH. Chapters XXI.-LII. By Rev. Prof. W. H. Bennett.

    EZEKIEL. By Rev. Prof. John Skinner.

    DANIEL. By F. W. Farrar, D.D., Dean of Canterbury.

    THE TWELVE (minor) PROPHETS. In 2 vols. By Rev. George Adam
    Smith, D.D., LL.D.


                         NEW TESTAMENT VOLUMES

    ST. MATTHEW. By Rev. J. Monro Gibson, D.D.

    ST. MARK. By Very Rev. G. A. Chadwick, D.D., Dean of Armagh.

    ST. LUKE. By Rev. Henry Burton.

    GOSPEL OF ST. JOHN. In 2 vols. Vol. I., Chapters I.-XI.; Vol.
    II., Chapters XII.-XXI. By Rev. Prof. Marcus Dods, D.D.

    THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES. In 2 vols. By Rev. Prof. G. T. Stokes,
    D.D.

    ROMANS. By Rev. Handley C. G. Moule, D.D.

    FIRST CORINTHIANS. By Rev. Prof. Marcus Dods, D.D.

    SECOND CORINTHIANS. By Rev. James Denney, D.D.

    GALATIANS. By Rev. Prof. G. G. Findlay, D.D.

    EPHESIANS. By same author.

    PHILIPPIANS. By Rev. Principal Robert Rainy, D.D.

    COLOSSIANS and PHILEMON. By Rev. Alexander Maclaren, D.D.

    THESSALONIANS. By Rev. James Denney, D.D.

    PASTORAL EPISTLES. By Rev. A. Plummer, D.D.

    HEBREWS. By Rev. Principal T. C. Edwards, D.D.

    ST. JAMES and ST. JUDE. By Rev. A. Plummer, D.D.

    ST. PETER. By Rev. Prof. J. Rawson Lumby, D.D.

    EPISTLES OF ST. JOHN. By Rt. Rev. W. Alexander, Lord Bishop of
    Derry.

    REVELATION. By Prof. W. Milligan, D.D.

    INDEX VOLUME TO ENTIRE SERIES.

              _New York_: HODDER & STOUGHTON, _Publishers_




                                  THE
                            BOOK OF NUMBERS





                                 BY THE
                   Rev. Robert A. Watson, M.A., D.D.
                               AUTHOR OF
        "GOSPELS OF YESTERDAY," "JUDGES AND RUTH," "THE BOOK OF
                   JOB," "IN THE APOSTOLIC AGE," ETC.





                           HODDER & STOUGHTON
                                NEW YORK
                        GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY




                                CONTENTS


                                   I

                                                                    PAGE

  INTRODUCTORY                                                         1

                                   II

  THE CENSUS AND THE CAMP                                             18
       1. The Mustering: ch. i. 1-46
       2. The Tribe of Levi: ch. i. 47-54
       3. The Camp: ch. ii

                                  III

  PRIESTS AND LEVITES                                                 29
       1. The Priesthood: ch. iii. 1-10
       2. The First-born: ch. iii. 11-13, 40-51
       3. Levitical Service: chs. iii. 14-39, iv

                                   IV

  DEFILEMENT AND PURGATION                                            46
       1. Exclusion from the Camp: ch. v. 1-4
       2. Atonement for Trespass: ch. v. 5-10
       3. The Water of Jealousy: ch. v. 11-31

                                   V

  NAZIRITISM: THE BLESSING OF AARON                                   59
       Ch. vi.

                                   VI

  SANCTUARY AND PASSOVER                                              73
       1. The Offerings of the Princes: ch. vii
       2. The Candelabrum: ch. viii. 1-4
       3. The Passover: ch. ix. 1-14

                                  VII

  THE CLOUD AND THE MARCH                                             89
       1. The Guiding Cloud: ch. ix. 15-23
       2. The Silver Trumpets: ch. x. 1-10
       3. The Order of March: ch. x. 11-28

                                  VIII

  HOBAB THE KENITE                                                   104
       Ch. x. 29-36

                                   IX

  THE STRAIN OF THE DESERT JOURNEY                                   119
       Ch. xi

                                   X

  THE JEALOUSY OF MIRIAM AND AARON                                   136
       Ch. xii

                                   XI

  THE SPIES AND THEIR REPORT                                         151
       Chs. xiii., xiv. 1-10

                                  XII

  THE DOOM OF THE UNBELIEVING                                        167
       Ch. xiv

                                  XIII

  OFFERINGS: SABBATH-KEEPING: DRESS                                  179
       Ch. xv

                                  XIV

  KORAH, DATHAN, AND ABIRAM                                          195
       Chs. xvi, xvii

                                   XV

  TITHES AND CLEANSINGS                                              212
       Chs. xviii., xix
         1. Duties and Support of the Ministry
         2. Water of Purification
         3. Defilement by the Dead

                                  XVI

  SORROW AND FAILURE AT KADESH                                       222
       Ch. xx

                                  XVII

  THE LAST MARCH AND THE FIRST CAMPAIGN                              243
       Ch. xxi

                                 XVIII

  BALAAM INVOKED                                                     260
       Ch. xxii. 1-19

                                  XIX

  BALAAM ON THE WAY                                                  276
       Ch. xxii. 20-38

                                   XX

  BALAAM'S PARABLES                                                  290
       Chs. xxii. 39-xxiv. 9

                                  XXI

  THE MATTER OF BAAL-PEOR                                            309
       Chs. xxiv. 10-xxv. 18

                                  XXII

  A NEW GENERATION                                                   323
       Chs. xxvi., xxvii

                                 XXIII

  OFFERINGS AND VOWS                                                 343
       1. The Sacred Year: chs. xxviii., xxix
       2. The Law of Vows: ch. xxx

                                  XXIV

  WAR AND SETTLEMENT                                                 365
       1. The War with Midian: ch. xxxi
       2. Settlement: ch. xxxii

                                  XXV

  THE WAY AND THE LOT                                                382
       Chs. xxxiii., xxxiv

                                  XXVI

  THE CITIES OF REFUGE                                               396
       Chs. xxxv., xxxvi

  INDEX                                                              409




                                   I

                             _INTRODUCTORY_


To summon from the past and reproduce with any detail the story of
Israel's life in the desert is now impossible. The outlines alone
remain, severe, careless of almost everything that does not bear on
religion. Neither from Exodus nor from Numbers can we gather those
touches that would enable us to reconstruct the incidents of a single
day as it passed in the camp or on the march. The tribes move from
one "wilderness" to another. The hardship of the time of wandering
appears unrelieved, for throughout the history the doings of God, not
the achievements or sufferings of the people, are the great theme.
The patriotism of the Book of Numbers is of a kind that reminds us
continually of the prophecies. Resentment against the distrustful
and rebellious, like that which Amos, Hosea, and Jeremiah express,
is felt in almost every portion of the narrative. At the same time
the difference between Numbers and the books of the prophets is wide
and striking. Here the style is simple, often stern, with little
emotion, scarcely any rhetoric. The legislative purpose reacts on
the historical, and makes the spirit of the book severe. Seldom does
the writer allow himself respite from the grave task of presenting
Israel's duties and delinquencies, and exalting the majesty of God.
We are made continually to feel the burden with which the affairs
of the people are charged; and yet the book is no poem: to excite
sympathy or lead up to a great climax does not come within the design.

Nevertheless, so far as a book of incident and statute can resemble
poetry, there is a parallel between Numbers and a form of literature
produced under other skies, other conditions--the Greek drama. The
same is true of Exodus and Deuteronomy; but Numbers will be found
especially to bear out the comparison. The likeness may be traced in
the presentation of a main idea, the relation of various groups of
persons carrying out or opposing that main idea, and the Puritanism
of form and situation. The Book of Numbers may be called eternal
literature more fitly than the _Iliad_ and _Æneid_ have been called
eternal poems; and the keen ethical strain and high religious thought
make the movement tragical throughout. Moses the leader is seen
with his helpers and opponents, Aaron and Miriam, Joshua and Hobab,
Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, Balak and Balaam. He is brought into
extremity; he despairs and appeals passionately to Heaven; in an hour
of pride he falls into sin which brings doom upon him. The people,
murmuring, craving, suffering, are always a vague multitude. The
tent, the cloud, the incense, the wars, the strain of the wilderness
journey, the hope of the land beyond--all have a dim solemnity. The
occupying thought is of Jehovah's purpose and the revelation of His
character. Moses is the prophet of this Divine mystery, stands for it
almost alone, urges it upon Israel, is the means of impressing it by
judgments and victories, by priestly law and ceremony, by the very
example of his own failure in sudden trial. With a graver and bolder
purpose than any embodied in the dramatic masterpieces of Greece,
the story of Numbers finds its place not in literature only, but
in the development of universal religion, and breathes that Divine
inspiration which belongs to the Hebrew and to him alone among those
who speak of God and man.

The Divine discipline of human life is an element of the theme, but
in contrast to the Greek dramas the books of the exodus are not
individualistic. Moses is great, but he is so as the teacher of
religion, the servant of Jehovah, the lawgiver of Israel. Jehovah,
His religion, His law, are above Moses. The personality of the leader
stands clear; yet he is not the hero of the Book of Numbers. The
purpose of the history leaves him, when he has done his work, to die
on Mount Abarim, and presses on, that Jehovah may be seen as a man of
war, that Israel may be brought to its inheritance and begin its new
career. The voice of men in the Greek tragedy is, as Mr. Ruskin says,
"We trusted in the gods; we thought that wisdom and courage would
save us. Our wisdom and courage deceive us to our death." When Moses
despairs, that is not his cry. There is no Fate stronger than God;
and He looks far into the future in the discipline He appoints to
men, to His people Israel. The remote, the unfulfilled, gleams along
the desert. There is a light from the pillar of fire even when the
pestilence is abroad, and the graves of the lustful are dug, and the
camp is dissolved in tears because Aaron is dead, because Moses has
climbed the last mountain and shall never again be seen.

In respect of content, one point shows likeness between the Greek
drama and our book--the vague conception of death. It is not an
extinction of life, but the human being goes on into an existence
of which there is no definite idea. What remains has no reckoning,
no object. The recoil of the Hebrew is not indeed piteous, and
fraught with horror, like that of the Greek, although death is the
last punishment of men who transgress. For Aaron and Moses, and all
who have served their generation, it is a high and venerated Power
that claims them when the hour of departure comes. The God they have
obeyed in life calls them, and they are gathered to their people. No
note of despair is heard like that in the _Iphigenia in Aulis_,--

                    "He raves who prays
      To die. 'Tis better to live on in woe
      Than to die nobly."

Dying as well as living men are with God; and this God is the Lord of
all. Immense is the difference between the Greek who trusts or dreads
many powers above, beneath, and the Hebrew realising himself, however
dimly, as the servant of Jehovah the holy, the eternal. This great
idea, seized by Moses, introduced by him into the faith of his people,
remained it may be indefinite, yet always present to the thought of
Israel with many implications till the time of full revelation came
with Christ, and He said: "Now that the dead are raised, even Moses
showed, in the bush, when he called the Lord the God of Abraham, and
the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. For He is not the God of the
dead, but of the living." The wide interval between a people whose
religion contained this thought, in whose history it is interwoven,
and a people whose religion was polytheistic and natural is seen in
the whole strain of their literature and life. Even Plato the luminous
finds it impossible to overpass the shadows of pagan interpretations.
"In regard to the facts of a future life, a man," said Phædo, "must
either learn or find out their nature; or, if he cannot do this, take
at any rate the best and least assailable of human words, and, borne
on this as on a raft, perform in peril the voyage of life, unless he
should be able to accomplish the journey with less risk and danger on a
surer vessel--some word Divine." Now Israel had a Divine word; and life
was not perilous.

       *       *       *       *       *

The problem which appears again and again in Moses' relation with
the people is that of the theocratic idea as against the grasping
at immediate success. At various points, from the start in Egypt
onwards, the opportunity of assuming a regal position comes to Moses.
He is virtually dictator, and he might be king. But a rare singleness
of mind keeps him true to Jehovah's lordship, which he endeavours
to stamp on the conscience of the people and the course of their
development. He has often to do so at the greatest risk to himself.
He holds back the people in what seems the hour of advance, and it
is the will of Jehovah by which they are detained. The Unseen King
is their Helper and equally their Rhadamanthine Judge; and on Moses
falls the burden of forcing that fact upon their minds.

Israel could never, according to Moses' idea, become a great people in
the sense in which the nations of the world were great. Amongst them
greatness was sought in despite of morality, in defiance of all that
Jehovah commanded. Israel might never be great in wealth, territory,
influence, but she was to be true. She existed for Jehovah, while the
gods of other nations existed for them, had no part to play without
them. Jehovah was not to be overborne either by the will or the
needs of His people. He was the self-existent Lord. The Name did not
represent a supernatural assistance which could be secured on terms, or
by any authorised person. Moses himself, though he entreated Jehovah,
did not change Him. His own desire was sometimes thwarted; and he had
often to give the oracle with sorrow and disappointment.

Moses is not the priest of the people: the priesthood comes in as
a ministering body, necessary for religious ends and ideas, but
never governing, never even interpreting. It is singular from this
point of view that the so-called Priests' Code should be attributed
confidently to a caste ambitious of ruling or practically enthroned.
Wellhausen ridicules the "fine" distinction between hierocracy and
theocracy. He affirms that government of God is the same thing as
rule of priest; and he may affirm this because he thinks so. The
Book of Numbers, as it stands, might have been written to prove that
they are not equivalent; and Wellhausen himself shows that they are
not by more than one of his conclusions. The theocracy, he says, is
in its nature intimately allied to the Roman Catholic Church, which
is, in fact, its child; and on the whole he prefers to speak of the
Jewish Church rather than the theocracy. But if any modern religious
body is to be named as a child of the Hebrew _theocracy_, it must
not be one in which the priest intervenes continually between faith
and God. Wellhausen says again that "the sacred constitution of
Judaism was an artificial product" as contrasted with the broadly
human indigenous element, the real idea of man's relation to God; and
when a priesthood, as in later Judaism, becomes the governing body,
God is, so far, dethroned. Now Moses did not give to Aaron greater
power than he himself possessed, and his own power is constantly
represented as exercised in submission to Jehovah. A theocracy might
be established without a priesthood; in fact, the mediation of the
prophet approaches the ideal far more than that of the priest. But
in the beginnings of Israel the priesthood was required, received
a subordinate place of its own, to which it was throughout rigidly
confined. As for priestly government, that, we may say, has no
support anywhere in the Pentateuch.

       *       *       *       *       *

The Book of Numbers, called also "In the wilderness," opens with
the second month of the second year after the exodus, and goes
on to the arrival of the tribes in the plains of Moab by the
Jordan. As a whole it may be said to carry out the historical and
religious ideas of Exodus and Leviticus: and both the history
and the legislation flow into three main channels. They go to
establish the separateness of Israel as a people, the separateness
of the tribe of Levi and the priesthood, and the separateness and
authority of Jehovah. The first of these objects is served by the
accounts of the census, of the redemption of the first-born, the
laws of national atonement and distinctive dress, and generally the
Divine discipline of Israel recorded in the course of the book. The
second line of purpose may be traced in the careful enumeration of
the Levites; the minute allocation of duties connected with the
tabernacle to the Gershonites, the Kohathites, and the Merarites;
the special consecration of the Aaronic priesthood; the elaboration
of ceremonials requiring priestly service; and various striking
incidents, such as the judgment of Korah and his company, and the
budding of Aaron's almond twig. Lastly, the institution of some
cleansing rites, the sin offering of chap. xix. for example, the
details of punishment that fell upon offenders against the law,
the precautions enjoined with regard to the ark and the sanctuary,
together with the multiplication of sacrifices, went to emphasise
the sanctity of worship and the holiness of the unseen King. The
book is sacerdotal; it is marked even more by a physical and moral
Puritanism, exceedingly stringent at many points.

The whole system of religious observance and priestly ministration
set forth in the Mosaic books may seem difficult to account for,
not indeed as a national development, but as a moral and religious
gain. We are ready to ask how God could in any sense have been the
author of a code of laws imposing so many intricate ceremonies, which
required a whole tribe of Levites and priests to perform them. Where
was the spiritual use that justified the system, as necessary, as
wise, as Divine? Inquiries like these will arise in the minds of
believing men, and sufficient answer must be sought for.

In the following way the religious worth and therefore the inspiration
of the ceremonial law may be found. The primitive notion that Jehovah
was the exclusive property of Israel, the pledged patron of the nation,
tended to impair the sense of His moral purity. An ignorant people
inclined to many forms of immorality could not have a right conception
of the Divine holiness; and the more it was accepted as a commonplace
of faith that Jehovah knew them alone of all the families of the
earth, the more was right belief towards Him imperilled. A psalmist
who in the name of God reproves "the wicked" indicates the danger:
"Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such an one as thyself."
Now the priesthood, the sacrifices, all provisions for maintaining
the sanctity of the ark and the altar, and all rules of ceremonial
cleansing, were means of preventing that fatal error. The Israelites
began without the solemn temples and impressive mysteries that made
the religion of Egypt venerable. In the desert and in Canaan, till
the time of Solomon, the rude arrangements of semi-civilised life
kept religion at an everyday level. The domestic makeshifts and
confusion of the early period, the frequent alarms and changes which
for centuries the nation had to endure, must have made culture of
any kind, even religious culture, almost impossible to the mass of
the people. The law in its very complexity and stringency provided a
needful safeguard and means of education. Moses had been acquainted
with a great sacerdotal system. Not only would it appear to him natural
to originate something of a like kind, but he would see no other means
of creating in rude times the idea of the Divine holiness. For himself
he found inspiration and prophetic power in laying the foundation of
the system; and once initiated, its development necessarily followed.
With the progress of civilisation the law had to keep pace, meeting the
new circumstances and needs of each succeeding period. Certainly the
genius of the Pentateuch, and in particular of the Book of Numbers,
is not liberating. The tone is that of theocratic rigour. But the
reason is quite clear; the development of the law was determined by the
necessities and dangers of Israel in the exodus, in the wilderness, and
in idolatrous, seductive Canaan.

Opening with an account of the census, the Book of Numbers evidently
stood, from the first, quite distinct from the previous books as
a composition or compilation. The mustering of the tribes gave an
opportunity of passing from one group of documents to another, from
one stage of the history to another. But the memoranda brought
together in Numbers are of various character. Administrative,
legislative, and historical sources are laid under contribution. The
records have been arranged as far as possible in chronological order;
and there are traces, as for instance in the second account of the
striking of the rock by Moses, of a careful gathering up of materials
not previously used, at least in the precise form they now have. The
compilers collected and transcribed with the most reverent care, and
did not venture in any case to reject. The historical notices are
for some reason anything but consecutive, and the greater part of
the time covered by the book is virtually passed over. On the other
hand some passages repeat details in a way that has no parallel in
the rest of the Mosaic books. The effect generally is that of a
compilation made under difficulties by a scribe or scribes who were
scrupulous to preserve everything relating to the great lawgiver and
the dealings of God with Israel.

Recent criticism is positive in its assertion that the book contains
several strata of narrative; and there are certain passages, the
accounts of Korah's revolt and of Dathan and Abiram, for instance,
where without such a clew the history must seem not a little
confused. In a sense this is disconcerting. The ordinary reader finds
it difficult to understand why an inspired book should appear at any
point incomplete or incoherent. The hostile critic again is ready to
deny the credibility of the whole. But the honesty of the writing
is proved by the very characteristics that make some statements
hard to interpret and some of the records difficult to receive.
The theory that a journal of the wanderings was kept by Moses or
under his direction is quite untenable. Dismissing that, we fall
back on the belief that contemporary records of some incidents, and
traditions early committed to writing formed the basis of the book.
The documents were undoubtedly ancient at the time of their final
recension, whensoever and by whomsoever it was made.

By far the greater part of Numbers refers to the second year after
the exodus from Egypt, and to what took place in the fortieth year,
after the departure from Kadesh. Regarding the intermediate time
we are told little but that the camp was shifted from one place to
another in the wilderness. Why the missing details have not survived
in any form cannot now be made out. It is no sufficient explanation
to say that those events alone are preserved which struck the popular
imagination. On the other hand, to ascribe what we have to unscrupulous
or pious fabrication is at once unpardonable and absurd. Some may be
inclined to think that the book consists entirely of accidental scraps
of tradition, and that inspiration would have come better to its end
if the religious feelings of the people had received more attention,
and we had been shown the gradual use of Israel out of ignorance and
semi-barbarism. Yet even for the modern historical sense the book has
its own claim, by no means slight, to high estimation and close study.
These are venerable records, reaching back to the time they profess
to describe, and presenting, though with some traditional haze, the
important incidents of the desert journey.

Turning from the history to the legislation, we have to inquire
whether the laws regarding priests and Levites, sacrifices and
cleansings, bear uniformly the colour of the wilderness. The
origins are certainly of the Mosaic time, and some of the statutes
elaborated here must be founded on customs and beliefs older even
than the exodus. Yet in form many enactments are apparently later
than the time of Moses; and it does not seem well to maintain that
laws requiring what was next to impossible in the wilderness were,
during the journey, given and enforced as they now stand by a wise
legislator. Did Moses require, for instance, that five shekels, "of
the shekel of the sanctuary," should be paid for the ransom of the
first-born son of a household, at a time when many families must have
had no silver and no means of obtaining it? Does not this statute,
like another which is spoken of as deferred till the settlement in
Canaan, imply a fixed order and medium of exchange? For the sake of
a theory which is intended to honour Moses as the only legislator of
Israel, is it well to maintain that he imposed conditions which could
not be carried out, and that he actually prepared the way for neglect
of his own code?

It is beyond our range to discuss the date of the compilation of
Numbers as compared with the other Pentateuchal books, or the age
of the "Jehovistic" documents as compared with the "Priests' Code."
This, however, is of less moment, since it is now becoming clear that
attempts to settle these dates can only darken the main question--the
antiquity of the original records and enactments. The assertion that
Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers belong to an age later than Ezekiel
is of course meant to apply to the present form of the books. But
even in this sense it is misleading. Those who make it themselves
assume that many things in the law and the history are of far older
date, based indeed on what at the time of Ezekiel must have been
immemorial usage. The main legislation of the Pentateuch must have
existed in the time of Josiah, and even then possessed the authority
of ancient observance. The priesthood, the ark, sacrifice and feast,
the shewbread, the ephod, can be traced back beyond the time of
David to that of Samuel and Eli, quite apart from the testimony of
the Books of Moses. Moreover, it is impossible to believe that the
formula "The Lord said unto Moses" was invented at a late date as
the authority for statutes. It was the invariable accompaniment of
the ancient rule, the mark of an origin already recognised. The
various legislative provisions we shall have to consider had their
sanction under the great ordinance of the law and the inspired
prophetism which directed its use and maintained its adaptation to
the circumstances of the people. The religious and moral code as a
whole, designed to secure profound reverence towards God and the
purity of national faith, continued the legislation of Moses, and at
every point was the task of men who guarded as sacred the ideas of
the founder and were themselves taught of God. The entire law was
acknowledged by Christ in this sense as possessing the authority of
the great lawgiver's own commission.

It has been said that "the inspired condition would seem to be one
which produces a generous indifference to pedantic accuracy in
matters of fact, and a supreme absorbing concern about the moral
and religious significance of facts." If the former part of this
statement were true, the historical books of the Bible, and, we may
say, in particular the Book of Numbers, would deserve no attention
as history. But nothing is more striking in a survey of our book
than the clear unhesitating way in which incidents are set forth,
even where moral and religious ends could not be much served by the
detail that is freely used. The account of the muster-roll is a case
in point. There we find what may be called "pedantic accuracy." The
enumeration of each tribe is given separately, and the formula is
repeated, "by their families, by their fathers' houses, according
to the number of the names from twenty years old and upward, all
that were able to go forth to war." Again, the whole of the seventh
chapter, the longest in the book, is taken up with an account of the
offerings of the tribes, made at the dedication of the altar. These
oblations are presented day after day by the heads of the twelve
tribes in order, and each tribe brings precisely the same gifts--"one
silver charger, the weight thereof was an hundred and thirty shekels,
one silver bowl of seventy shekels after the shekel of the sanctuary,
both of them full of fine flour mingled with oil for a meal offering;
one golden spoon of ten shekels full of incense; one young bullock,
one ram, one he-lamb of the first year for a burnt offering; one
male of the goats for a sin offering; and for the sacrifice of
peace offerings, two oxen, five rams, five he-goats, five he-lambs
of the first year." Now the difficulty at once occurs that in the
wilderness, according to Exod. xvi., there was no bread, no flour,
that manna was the food of the people. In Numb. xi. 6 the complaint
of the children of Israel is recorded: "Now our soul is dried away;
there is nothing at all: we have nought save this manna to look
to." In Josh. v. 10 ff. it is stated that, after the passage of the
Jordan, "they kept the passover on the fourteenth day of the month
at even in the plains of Jericho. And they did eat of the old corn
of the land on the morrow after the passover, unleavened cakes and
parched corn in the self-same day. And the manna ceased on the morrow
after they had eaten of the old corn of the land." To the compilers
of the Book of Numbers the statement that tribe after tribe brought
offerings of fine flour mingled with oil, which could only have
been obtained from Egypt or from some Arabian valley at a distance,
must have been as hard to receive as it is to us. Nevertheless,
the assertion is repeated no less than twelve times. What then? Do
we impugn the sincerity of the historians? Are we to suppose them
careless of the fact? Do we not rather perceive that in the face
of what seemed insuperable difficulties they held to what they had
before them as authentic records? No writer could be inspired and at
the same time indifferent to accuracy. If there is one thing more
than another on which we may rely, it is that the authors of these
books of Scripture have done their very utmost by careful inquiry and
recension to make their account of what took place in the wilderness
full and precise. Absolute sincerity and scrupulous carefulness
are essential conditions for dealing successfully with moral and
religious themes; and we have all evidence that the compilers had
these qualities. But in order to reach historical fact they had
to use the same kind of means as we employ; and this qualifying
statement, with all that it involves, applies to the whole contents
of the book we are to consider. Our dependence with regard to the
events recorded is on the truthfulness but not the omniscience of the
men, whoever they were, who from traditions, records, scrolls of law,
and venerable memoranda compiled this Scripture as we have it. They
wrought under the sense of sacred duty, and found through that the
inspiration which gives perennial value to their work. With this in
view we shall take up the various matters of history and legislation.

       *       *       *       *       *

Recurring now, for a little, to the spirit of the Book of Numbers,
we find in the ethical passages its highest note and power as an
inspired writing. The standard of judgment is not by any means that
of Christianity. It belongs to an age when moral ideas had often to
be enforced with indifference to human life; when, conversely, the
plagues and disasters that befell men were always connected with moral
offences. It belongs to an age when the malediction of one who claimed
supernatural insight was generally believed to carry power with it, and
the blessing of God meant earthly prosperity. And the notable fact is
that, side by side with these beliefs, righteousness of an exalted kind
is strenuously taught. For example, the reverence for Moses and Aaron,
usually so characteristic of the Book of Numbers, is seen falling into
the background when the Divine judgment of their fault is recorded; and
the earnestness shown is nothing less than sublime. In the course of
the legislation Aaron is invested with extraordinary official dignity;
and Moses appears at his best in the matter of Eldad and Medad when he
says, "Enviest thou for my sake? Would God that all the Lord's people
were prophets, and that the Lord would put His Spirit upon them." Yet
Numbers records the sentence pronounced upon the brothers: "Because ye
believed Me not, to sanctify Me in the eyes of the children of Israel,
therefore ye shall not bring this congregation into the land which I
have given them." And more severe is the form of the condemnation
recorded in chap. xxvii. 14: "Because ye rebelled against My word in
the wilderness of Zin, in the strife of the congregation, to sanctify
Me at the waters before their eyes." The moral strain of the book
is keen in the punishment inflicted on a Sabbath-breaker, in the
destination to death of the whole congregation for murmuring against
God--a judgment which, at the entreaty of Moses, was not revoked, but
only deferred--and again in the condemnation to death of every soul
that sins presumptuously. On the other hand, the provision of refuge
cities for the unwitting man-slayer shows the Divine righteousness at
one with mercy.

It must be confessed the book has another note. In order that Israel
might reach and conquer Canaan there had to be war; and the warlike
spirit is frankly breathed. There is no thought of converting enemies
like the Midianites into friends; every man of them must be put to
the sword. The census enumerates the men fit for war. The primitive
militarism is consecrated by Israel's necessity and destiny. When the
desert march is over, Reuben, Gad, and the half-tribe of Manasseh
must not turn peacefully to their sheep and cattle on the east side
of Jordan; they must send their men of war across the river to
maintain the unity of the nation by running the hazard of battle
with the rest. Experience of this inevitable discipline brought
moral gain. Religion could use even war to lift the people into the
possibility of higher life.




                                   II

                       _THE CENSUS AND THE CAMP_


                            1. THE MUSTERING

                            NUMBERS i. 1-46

From the place of high spiritual knowledge, where through the
revelation of God in covenant and law Israel has been constituted His
nation and His Church, the tribes must now march with due order and
dignity. The sense of a Divine calling and of responsibility to the
Highest will react on the whole arrangements made for the ordinary
tasks and activities of men. Social aims may unite those who have
them in common, and the emergencies of a nation will lay constraint
on patriotic souls. But nothing so binds men together as a common
vocation to do God's will and maintain His faith. These ideas are to
be traced in the whole account of the mustering of the warriors and
the organisation of the camp. We review it feeling that the dominating
thought of a Divine call to spiritual duty and progress is far from
having control of modern Christendom. Under the New Covenant there is
a distribution of grace to every one, an endowment of each according
to his faith with priestly and even kingly powers. No chief men swear
fealty to Christ on behalf of the tribes that gather to His standard;
but each believer devotes himself to the service and receives his own
commission. Yet, while the first thought is that of personal honour and
liberty, there should follow at once the desire, the determination, to
find one's fit place in the camp, in the march, in the war. The unity
is imperative, for there is one body and one spirit, even as we are
called in one hope of our calling. The commission each receives is not
to be a free-lance in the Divine warfare, but to take his right place
in the ranks; and that place he must find.

The enumeration, as recorded in chap. i., was not to be of all
Israelites, but of men from twenty years old and upward, all that
were able to go forth to war. From Sinai to Canaan was no long
journey, and fighting might soon be required. The muster was by way
of preparation for conflicts in the wilderness and for the final
struggle. It is significant that Aaron is shown associated with Moses
in gathering the results. We see not only a preparation for war, but
also for the poll tax or tithe to be levied in support of the priests
and Levites. A sequel to the enumeration is to be found in chap.
xviii. 21: "And unto the children of Levi, behold, I have given all
the tithe in Israel for an inheritance, in return for their service
which they serve, even the service of the tent of meeting." The
Levites again were to give, out of what they received, a tenth part
for the maintenance of the priests. The enactment when carried into
effect would make the support of those who ministered in holy things
a term of the national constitution.

Now taking the census as intended to impress the personal duties of
service in war and contribution for religious ends, we find in it a
valuable lesson for all who acknowledge the Divine authority. Not
remotely may the command be interpreted thus. Take the sum of them,
that they may realise that God takes the sum of them and expects of
every man service commensurate with his powers. The claim of Jehovah
went side by side with the claim on behalf of the nation, for He was
Head of the nation. But God is equally the Head of all who have their
life from Him; and this numbering of the Hebrews points to a census
which is accurately registered and never falls short of the sum of a
people by a single unit. Whoever can fight the battle of righteousness,
serve the truth by witness-bearing, aid in relieving one weak, or help
religion by personal example and willing gift--every possible servant
of God, who is also by the very possession of life and privilege a
debtor of God, is numbered in the daily census of His providence.
The measure of the ability of each is known. "To whomsoever much is
given, of him shall much be required." The Divine regard of our lives
and estimate of our powers, and the accompanying claim made upon us,
are indeed far from being understood; even members of the Church are
strangely ignorant of their duty. But is it thought that because no
Sinai shrouded in awful smoke towers above us, and now we are encamped
at the foot of Calvary, where one great offering was made for our
redemption, therefore we are free in any sense from the service Israel
was expected to render? Do any hold themselves relieved from the tithe
because they are Christ's freemen, and shirk the warfare because they
already enjoy the privileges of the victors? These are the ignorant,
whose complacent excuses show that they do not understand the law of
Divine religion.

True, the position of the Church among us is not of the kind
which the Mosaic law gave to the priesthood in Israel. Tithes are
gathered, not from those only who are numbered within the Church and
acknowledge obligation, but also from those outside, and always by
another authority than that of Divine commandment. In this way the
whole matter of the support of religion is confused in these lands
both for members of the national Churches and for those beyond their
borders. Successfully as the old Hebrew scheme may once have wrought,
it is now hopelessly out of line with the development of society.
The census does not in any way determine what a national Church can
claim. Aaron does not stand beside Moses to watch the enrolment of
the tribes, families, and households as they come to be numbered.
Yet, by the highest law of all, which neither Church nor State
can alter, the demand for service is enforced. There is a warlike
duty from which none are exempt, from which there is no discharge.
Although the ideal of an organised humanity appears as yet far off
in our schemes of government and social melioration, providentially
it is being carried into effect. Laws are at work that need no human
administration. By the Divine ordinance generous effort for the
common good and the ends of religion is made imperative. Obedience
brings its reward: "The liberal deviseth liberal things, and by
liberal things shall he stand." Neglect is also punished: the sure
result of selfishness is an impoverished life.

The census is described as having been thoroughly organised. Keil and
Delitzsch think that the registering may have taken place "according
to the classification adopted at Jethro's suggestion for the
administration of justice--viz., in thousands, hundreds, fifties, and
tens." They also defend the total of six hundred and three thousand
five hundred and fifty, which is precisely the same as that reached
apparently nine months before. It is an obvious explanation of
what appears a perplexing agreement, that the enumeration may have
occupied nine months. But the number is certainly large, much larger
than the muster-rolls of the Book of Judges would lead us to expect,
if we reckon back from them. Nor can any explanation be given that
is satisfactory in all respects. We may shrink from interfering with
these numerical statements carefully set down thousands of years ago.
Yet we feel that the haze of remoteness hangs over this roll of the
tribes and all after-reckonings based upon it.

Of the twelve princes named in chap. i. 5-15, as overseers of the
census, Nahshon, son of Amminadab, of the tribe of Judah, has
peculiar distinction. His name is found in the genealogy of David
given in the Book of Ruth (chap. iv. 20). It also appears in the
"book of the generation of Jesus Christ" (Matt. i.) and the roll of
Joseph's ancestry recorded by St. Luke. One after another in that
honourable line which gave the Hebrews their Psalmist and the world
its Saviour is but a name to us. Yet the life represented by the name
Nahshon, spent mainly in the wilderness, had its part in far-off
results; and so had many a life, not even named--the hard lives of
brave fathers and burdened mothers in Israel, who, on the weary march
through the desert, had their sorrow and pain, their scanty joy and
hope. Far away is the endurance of those Hebrew men and women, yet it
is related to our own religion, our salvation. The discipline of the
wilderness made men of courage, women great in faith. Beneath their
feet the Arabian sand burned, above them the sun flamed; they heard
alarms of war, and followed the pillar of smoke for their appointed
time, looking, even when they knew they looked in vain, for the
land beyond of which Jehovah had spoken. Unaware of their nation's
destiny, they toiled and suffered to serve a great Divine plan which
in the course of the ages came to ripeness. And the thought brings
help to ourselves. We too have our desert journey, our duty and
hardship, with an outlook not merely personal. It is our privilege,
if we will take it so, to aid the Divine plan for the humanity that
is to be, the great brotherhood in which Christ shall see of the
travail of His soul and be satisfied. Like a prince of Judah, or a
humble nameless mother in Israel, each may find abiding dignity of
life in doing well some allotted part in the great enterprise.

The age of service fixed for the men of the tribes may yield
suggestions for our time. It is not of warlike service we have
to think, but of that which depends on spiritual influence and
intellectual power. And we may ask whether the limits on one side
and the other have any parallel for us. Young men and women, having
reached the age of bodily and mental vigour, are to hold themselves
enrolled in the ranks of the army of God. There is a time of
learning and preparation, when knowledge is to be acquired, when
the principles of life are to be grasped, and the soul is to find
its inspiration through personal faith. Then there should come that
self-consecration by which response is made to the claim of God.
Neither should that be premature, nor should it be deferred. When an
aimless, irresolute adolescence is followed by years of drifting and
experimenting without clear religious purpose, the best opportunity
of life is thrown away. And this far too frequently occurs among
those on whom parental influence and the finest Christian teaching
have been expended. The time arrives when such young men and
women should begin to serve the Church and the world; but they
are still unprepared because they have not considered the great
questions of duty, and seen that they have a part to play on the
field of endeavour. It is true, no time can be fixed. The public
service of Christ has been begun by some in very early youth; and
the results have justified their adventure. From the humble tasks
they first undertook they have gone on steadily to places of high
responsibility, never once looking back, learning while they taught,
gaining faith while they imparted it to others. Each for himself or
herself, in this matter of supreme importance, must seek the guidance
and realise the vocation of God. But delay is often indulged, and the
twentieth, even the thirtieth year, passes without a single effort in
the holy service. One could wish for a Divine conscription, a command
laid on every one in youth to be ready at a certain day and hour to
take the sword of the Spirit.

On the other side also many need to reconsider. No time was fixed for
the end of the services to which the Israelites were summoned. As long
as a man could carry arms he was to hold himself ready for the field.
Not the increasing cares of his family, not the disinclination which
comes with years, was to weigh against the ordinance of Jehovah. But
service now, however cheerfully it may be rendered in early manhood
and womanhood, is often renounced altogether when knowledge and power
are coming to ripeness with the experience of life. Doubtless there
are many excuses to be made for heads of households who are leaving
their young folk to represent them in religion, and pretty much in
everything outside the mere maintaining of existence or the enjoyment
of it. The demands of public service all round are sometimes quite out
of proportion to the available time and strength. Yet the Christian
duty never lapses; and it is a great evil when the balance is wanting
between old and young, tried and untried.


                          2. THE TRIBE OF LEVI

                            NUMBERS i. 47-54

The tribe of Levi is not numbered with the rest. No warlike service,
no half-shekel for the sanctuary, is to be exacted from the Levite.
His contribution to the general good is to be of another kind.
Pitching their tents about the tabernacle, the men of this tribe are
to guard the sanctuary from careless or rude intrusion, and minister
unto it, taking charge of its parts and furniture, dismantling it
when it is to be removed, setting it up again when another stage of
the march is over.

In this order it is implied that, although according to the ideal of
the Mosaic law Israel was to be a holy nation, yet the reality fell
very far short of it. "The Lord spake unto Moses, saying, Speak unto
all the congregation of the children of Israel, and say unto them,
Ye shall be holy: for I the Lord your God am holy" (Lev. xix. 1, 2).
Again and again this command of consecration is given. But neither in
the wilderness, nor throughout the pre-exilic history, nor after the
Babylonian affliction had purged the nation of idolatry, was Israel so
holy that access to the sanctuary could be allowed to the men of the
tribes. Rather, as time went by, did the need for special consecration
of those about the temple become more evident. Although by statute the
tribe of Levi was well provided for, it cannot be said that the life
of the Levite was at any time enviable from a worldly point of view;
at the best it was a kind of honourable poverty. Something else than
mere priest-craft upheld the system which separated the whole tribe;
something else made the Levites content with their position. There
was a real and imperative sense of need to guard the sanctities of
religion, a jealousy for the honour of God, which, originating with
Moses and the priesthood, was felt throughout the whole nation.

As we have seen, the scheme of Israel's religion required this array
of servants of the sanctuary. Under Christianity the ideal of the
life of faith and the manner of worship are entirely different.
A way into the holy place of the Divine presence is now open to
every believer, and each may have boldness to enter it. But even
under Christianity there is a general failure from holiness, from
the spiritual worship of God. And as among the Hebrews, so among
Christians, the need for a body of guardians of sacred truth and
pure religion has been widely acknowledged. Throughout the Church
generally down to the Reformation, and still in countries like Russia
and Spain, we may even say in England, the condition of things is
like that in Israel. A people conscious of ignorance and secularity,
feeling nevertheless the need of religion, willingly supports the
"priests," sometimes a great army, who conduct the worship of God.
There is nothing to wonder at here, in a sense; much, indeed, for
which to be thankful. Yet the system is not the New Testament one;
and those who endeavour to realise the ideal are not to be branded
and scorned as schismatics. They should be honoured for their noble
effort to reach and use the holy consecration of the Christian.


                              3. THE CAMP

                               NUMBERS ii

The second chapter is devoted to the arrangement of the camp and the
position of the various tribes on the march. The front is eastward,
and Judah has the post of honour in the van; at its head Nahshon son
of Amminadab. Issachar and Zebulun, closely associated with Judah in
the genealogy as descended from Leah, are the others in front of the
tabernacle. The right wing, to the south of the tabernacle, is composed
of Reuben, Simeon, and Gad, again connected by the hereditary tie,
Gad by descent from the "handmaid of Leah." The seniority of Reuben
is apparently acknowledged by the position of the tribe at the head
of the right wing, which would sustain the first attack of the desert
clans; for dignity and onerous duty go together. The rear is formed by
Ephraim, Manasseh, and Benjamin, connected with one another by descent
from Rachel. Northward, on the left of the advance, Dan, Asher, and
Naphtali have their position. Standards of divisions and ensigns of
families are not forgotten in the description of the camp; and Jewish
tradition has ventured to state what some of these were. Judah is said
to have been a lion (compare "the lion that is of the tribe of Judah,"
Rev. v. 5); Reuben, the image of a human head; Ephraim, an ox; and Dan
an eagle. If this tradition is accepted, it will connect the four main
ensigns of Israel with the vision of Ezekiel in which the same four
figures were united in each of the four living creatures that issued
from the fiery cloud.

The picture of the great organised camp and orderly march of Israel
is interesting; but it presents a contrast to the disorganised,
disorderly condition of human society in every land and every age.
While it may be said that there are nations leagued in creed, allied
by descent, which form the van; that others, similarly connected more
or less, constitute the right and left wings of the advancing host;
and the rest, straggling far behind, bring up the rear--this is but
a very imaginative representation of the fact. No people advances as
with one mind and one heart; no group of nations can be said to have a
single standard. Time and destiny urge on the host, and all is to be
won by steady resolute endeavour. Yet some are encamped, while others
are moving about restlessly or engaged in petty conflicts that have
nothing to do with moral gain. There should be unity; but one division
is embroiled with another, tribe crosses swords with tribe. The truth
is that as Israel came far short of real spiritual organisation and due
disposition of its forces to serve a common end, so it is still with
the human race. Nor do the schemes that are occasionally tried to some
extent promise a remedy for our disorder. For the symbol of our most
holy faith is not set in the midst by most of those who aim at social
organisation, nor do they dream of seeking a better country, that is, a
heavenly. The description of the camp of Israel has something to teach
us still. Without the Divine law there is no progress, without a Divine
rallying-point there is no unity. Faith must control, the standard of
Christianity must show the way; otherwise the nations will only wander
aimlessly, and fight and die in the desert.




                                  III

                         _PRIESTS AND LEVITES_


                           1. THE PRIESTHOOD

                           NUMBERS iii. 1-10

In the opening verse of this chapter, which relates to the designation
of the priesthood, Moses is named, for once, after his brother.
According to the genealogy of Exod. vi., Aaron was the elder; and this
may have led to the selection of his as the priestly house--which
again would give him priority in a passage relating to the hierarchy.
If Moses had chosen, his undoubted claims would have secured the
priestly office for his family. But he did not desire this; and indeed
the duties of administrative head of the people were sufficiently
heavy. Aaron was apparently fitted for the sacerdotal office, and
without peculiar qualifications for any other. He seems to have had no
originating power, but to have been ready to fall in with and direct
the routine of ceremonial worship. And we may assume that Moses knew
the surviving sons of Aaron to be of the stamp of their father, likely
to inaugurate a race of steady, devoted servants of the altar.

Yet all Aaron's sons had not been of this quiet disposition. Nadab
and Abihu, the two eldest, had sinned presumptuously, and brought on
themselves the doom of death. No fewer than five times is their fall
referred to in the books of Leviticus and Numbers. Whatever that
strange fire was which they put in their censers and used before the
Lord, the judgment that befell them was signal and impressive. And
here reference is made to the fact that they died without issue, as
if to mark the barrenness of the sacrilegious. Did it not appear that
inherent disqualification for the priesthood, the moral blindness or
self-will which was shown in their presumptuous act, had been foreseen
by God, who wrote them childless in His book? This race must not be
continued. Israel must not begin with priests who desecrate the altar.

Whether the death of those two sons of Aaron came by an unexpected
stroke, or was a doom inflicted after judgment in which their
father had to acquiesce, the terrible event left a most effectual
warning. The order appointed for the incense offering, and all
other sacred duties, would thenceforth be rigidly observed. And the
incident--revived continually for the priests when they studied the
Law--must have had especial significance through their knowledge of
the use and meaning of fire in idolatrous worship. The temptation
was often felt, against which the fate of Nadab and Abihu set every
priest on his guard, to mingle the supposed virtue of other religious
symbols with the sanctities of Jehovah. Who can doubt that priests
of Israel, secretly tempted by the rites of sun-worship, might have
gone the length of carrying the fire of Baal into Jehovah's temple,
if the memory of this doom had not held back the hand? Here also the
degradation of the burnt offering by taking flame from a common fire
was by implication forbidden. The source of that which is the symbol
of Divine purity must be sacredly pure.

Those who minister in holy things have still a corresponding danger,
and may find here a needed warning. The fervour shown in sacred
worship and work must have an origin that is purely religious. He who
pleads earnestly with God on behalf of men, or rises to impassioned
appeal in beseeching men to repent, appearing as an ambassador of
Christ urged by the love of souls, has to do not with symbols, but
with truths, ideas, Divine mysteries infinitely more sacred than the
incense and fire of Old Testament worship. For the Hebrew priest
outward and formal consecration sufficed. For the minister of the
New Testament, the purity must be of the heart and soul. Yet it is
possible for the heat of alien zeal, of mere self-love or official
ambition, to be carried into duties the most solemn that fall to the
lot of man; and if it is not in the Spirit of God a preacher speaks
or offers the sacrifice of thanksgiving, if some other inspiration
makes him eloquent and gives his voice its tremulous notes, sin like
that of Nadab and Abihu is committed, or rather a sin greater than
theirs. With profound sorrow it must be confessed that the "strange
fire" from idolatrous altars too often desecrates the service of
God. Excitement is sought by those who minister in order that the
temperament may be raised to the degree necessary for free and ardent
speech; and it is not always of a purely religious kind. Those who
hear may for a time be deceived by the pretence of unction, by
dramatic tones, by alien fire. But the difference is felt when it
cannot be defined; and on the spiritual life of the ministrant the
effect is simply fatal.

The surviving sons of Aaron, Eleazar and Ithamar, were anointed
and "consecrated to minister in the priest's office." The form of
designation is indicated by the expression, "whose hand he filled
to exercise priesthood." This has been explained as referring to a
portion of the ceremony described in Lev. viii. 26 f. "And out of
the basket of unleavened bread, that was before the Lord, he took
one unleavened cake, and one cake of oiled bread, and one wafer, and
placed them on the fat, and upon the right thigh: and he put the
whole upon the hands of Aaron, and upon the hands of his sons, and
waved them for a wave offering before the Lord." The explanation is
scarcely satisfactory. In the long ceremony of consecration this
incident was not the only one to which the expression "filling
the hand" was applied; and something simpler must be found as the
source of an idiomatic phrase. To fill the hand would naturally
mean to pay or hire, and we seem to be pointed to the time when
for the patriarchal priesthood there was substituted one that was
official, supported by the community. In Exod. xxviii. 41 and in
Lev. viii. 33, the expression in question is used in a general sense
incompatible with its reference to any particular portion of the
ceremony of consecration. It is also used in Judges xvii., where to
all appearance the consecration of Micah's Levite implied little else
than the first payment on account of a stipulated hire. The phrase,
then, appears to be a mark of history, and carries the mind back to
the simple origin of the priestly office.

Eleazar and Ithamar "ministered in the priest's office in the
presence of Aaron their father." So far as the narrative of the
Pentateuch gives information, there were originally, and during
the whole of the wilderness journey, no other priests than Aaron
and his sons. Nadab and Abihu having died, there remained but the
two besides their father. Phinehas the son of Eleazar appears in
the history, but is not called a priest, nor has he any priestly
functions. What he does is indeed quite apart from the holy office.
And this early restriction of the number is not only in favour of
the Pentateuchal history, but partly explains the fact that in
Deuteronomy the priests and Levites are apparently identified. Taking
at their very heaviest the duties specially laid on the priests, much
must have fallen to the share of their assistants, who had their
own consecration as ministers of the sanctuary. It is certain that
members of the Levitical families were in course of time admitted to
the full status of priests.

The direction is given in ver. 10, "Thou shalt appoint Aaron and his
sons, and they shall keep their priesthood; and the stranger that
cometh nigh shall be put to death." This is rigorously exclusive, and
seems to contrast with the statements of Deuteronomy, "At that time
the Lord separated the tribe of Levi to bear the ark of the covenant
of the Lord, to stand before the Lord to minister unto Him and to
_bless in His name_ unto this day" (x. 8); and again, "The priests
the Levites, even all the tribe of Levi, shall have no portion nor
inheritance with Israel; they shall eat the offerings of the Lord made
by fire, and His inheritance" (xviii. 1); and once more, "Moses wrote
the law and delivered it unto the priests, the sons of Levi, which
bore the ark of the covenant of the Lord, and unto all the elders of
Israel" (xxxi. 9). Throughout Deuteronomy the priests are never called
sons of Aaron, nor is Aaron called a priest. Whether the cause of this
apparent discrepancy is that Deuteronomy regarded the arrangements for
the priestly service in a different light, or that the distinction of
priests from Levites fell into abeyance and was afterwards revived,
the variation cannot be ignored. In the book of Joshua "the children
of Aaron the priest" appear on a few occasions, and certain of the
duties of high priest are ascribed to Eleazar. Yet even in Joshua the
importance attached to the Aaronic house is far less than in Exodus,
Leviticus, and Numbers; and the expression "the priests the Levites"
occurs twice. If we regard the origin of the Aaronic priesthood as
belonging to the Mosaic period, then the wars and disturbances of
the settlement in Canaan must have entirely disorganised the system
originally instituted. In the days of the judges there seems to have
been no orderly observance of those laws which gave the priesthood
importance. Scattered Levites had to do as they best could what was
possible in the way of sacrifice and purification. And this confusion
may have begun in the plain of Moab. The death of Aaron, the personal
insignificance of his sons, and still more the death of Moses himself,
would place the administration of religious as well as secular affairs
on an entirely different footing. Memoranda preserved in Leviticus
and Numbers may therefore be more ancient than those of Deuteronomy;
and Deuteronomy, describing the state of things before the passage of
Jordan, may in regard to the priesthood reflect the conditions of a new
development, the course of which did not blend with the original design
till after the captivity.

The tribe of Levi is, according to ver. 6 ff., appointed to minister
to Aaron, and to keep his charge and that of the congregation before
the "tent of meeting," to do the service of the tabernacle. For all
the necessary work connected with the sanctuary the Levites are
"wholly given unto Aaron on behalf of the children of Israel." It
was of course in accordance with the patriarchal idea that each clan
should have a hereditary chief. Here, however, an arbitrary rule
breaks in. For Aaron was not by primogeniture head of the tribe of
Levi. He belonged to a younger family of the tribe. The arrangements
made by Moses as the representative of God superseded the succession
by birthright. And this is by no means the only case in which a law
usually adhered to was broken through. According to the history the
high-priesthood did not invariably follow the line of Eleazar. At a
certain point a descendant of Ithamar was for some reason raised to
the dignity. Samuel, too, became virtually a priest, and rose higher
than any high-priest before the captivity, although he was not even
of the tribe of Levi. The law of spiritual endowment in his case set
the other aside. And is it not often so? The course of providence
brings forward the man who can guide affairs. While his work lasts he
is practically supreme. It is useless to question or rebel. Neither
in religion nor in government can the appeal to Divine right or to
constitutional order alter the fact. Korah need not revolt against
Moses; nor may Aaron imagine that he can push himself into the
front. And Aaron, as head of the tribe of Levi, and of the religious
administration, is safe in his own position so long only as his
office is well served. It is to responsibility he is called, rather
than to honour. Let him do his duty, otherwise he will surely become
merely a name or a figure.


                           2. THE FIRST-BORN

                       NUMBERS iii. 11-13, 40-51

These two passages supplement each other and may be taken together.
Jehovah claims the first-born in Israel. He hallowed them unto
Himself on the day when He smote all the first-born in the land of
Egypt. They are now numbered from a month old and upward. But instead
of their being appointed personally to holy service, the Levites are
substituted for them. The whole account supplies a scheme of the
origin of the sacerdotal tribe.

It has been questioned whether the number of the first-born, which
is 22,273, can in any way be made to agree with the total number
of the male Israelites, previously stated at 603,550. Wellhausen
is specially contemptuous of a tradition or calculation which, he
says, would give an average of forty children to each woman. But
the difficulty partly yields if it is kept in view that the Levites
were separated for the service of the sanctuary. Naturally it would
be the heir-apparent alone of each family group whose liability to
this kind of duty fell to be considered. The head of a household was,
according to the ancient reckoning, its priest. In Abraham's family
no one counted as a first-born but Isaac. Now that a generation of
Israelites is growing up sanctified by the covenant, it appears fit
that the presumptive priest should either be devoted to sacerdotal
duty, or relieved of it by a Levite as his substitute. Suppose each
family had five tents, and suppose further that the children born
before the exodus are not reckoned, the number will not be found at
all disproportionate. The absolute number remains a difficulty.

Dr. Robertson Smith argues from his own premises about the sanctity
of the first-born. He repudiates the notion that at one time the
Hebrews actually sacrificed all their first-born sons; yet he affirms
that "there must have been some point of attachment in ancient custom
for the belief that the Deity asked for such a sacrifice."[1] "I
apprehend," he proceeds, "that all the prerogatives of the first-born
among Semitic peoples are originally prerogatives of sanctity; the
sacred blood of the kin flows purest and strongest in him (Gen. xlix.
3). Neither in the case of children nor in that of cattle did the
congenital holiness of the first-born originally imply that they must
be sacrificed or given to the Deity on the altar, but only that if
sacrifice was to be made, they were the best and fittest because the
holiest victims." The passage in Numbers may be confidently declared
to be far from any such conception. The special fitness for sacrifice
of the first-born of an animal is assumed: the fitness of the heir
of a family, again, is plainly not to _become_ a sacrifice, but to
offer sacrifice. The first-born of the Egyptians died. But it is
the life, the holy activity of His own people, not their death, God
desires. And this holy activity, rising to its highest function in
the first-born, is according to our passage laid on the Levites to a
certain extent. Not entirely indeed. The whole congregation is still
consecrated and must be holy. All are bound by the covenant. The head
of each family group will still have to officiate as a priest in
celebrating the passover. Certain duties, however, are transferred
for the better protection of the sanctities of worship.

The first-born are found to exceed the number of the Levites by two
hundred and seventy-three; and for their redemption Moses takes "five
shekels apiece by the poll; after the shekel of the sanctuary." The
money thus collected is given unto Aaron and his sons.

The method of redemption here presented, purely arbitrary in respect of
the sum appointed for the ransom of each life, is fitly contrasted by
the Apostle Peter with that of the Christian dispensation. He adopts
the word _redeem_, taking it over from the old economy, but says,
"Ye were redeemed not with corruptible things, with silver or gold,
from your vain manner of life handed down from your fathers." And the
difference is not only that the Christian is redeemed with the precious
blood of Christ, but this also, that, while the first-born Israelite
was relieved of certain parts of the holy service which might have been
claimed of him by Jehovah, it is for sacred service, "to be a holy
priesthood to offer up spiritual sacrifices," Christians are redeemed.
In the one case exemption, in the other case consecration is the end.
The difference is indeed great, and shows how much the two covenants
are in contrast with each other. It is not to enable us to escape any
of the duties or obligations of life Christ has given Himself for us.
It is to make us fit for those duties, to bring us fully under those
obligations, to purify us that we may serve God with our bodies and
spirits which are His.

A passage in Exodus (xiii. 11 f.) must not be overlooked in
connection with that presently under consideration. The enactment
there is to the effect that when Israel is brought into the land of
the Canaanites every first-born of beasts shall be set apart unto
the Lord, the firstling of an ass shall be redeemed with a lamb
or killed, and all first-born children shall be redeemed. Here the
singular point is that the law is deferred, and does not come into
operation till the settlement in Canaan. Either this was set aside
for the provisions made in Numbers, or these are to be interpreted
by it. The difficulties of the former view are greatly increased by
the mention of the "shekel of the sanctuary," which seems to imply a
settled medium of exchange, hardly possible in the wilderness.

In Numb. viii. 18, 19, the subject of redemption is again touched,
and the additions are significant. Now the service of the Levites
"in the tent of meeting" is by way of atonement for the children of
Israel, "that there be no plague among the children of Israel when
the children of Israel come nigh unto the sanctuary." Atonement
is not with blood in this case, but by the service of the living
substitute. While the general scope of the Mosaic law requires the
shedding of blood in order that the claim of God may be met, this
exception must not be forgotten. And in a sense it is the chief
instance of atonement, far transcending in expressiveness those
in which animals were slaughtered for propitiation. The whole
congregation, threatened with plagues and disasters in approaching
God, has protection through the holy service of the Levitical tribe.
Here is substitution of a kind which makes a striking point in the
symbolism of the Old Testament in its relation to the New. The
principle may be seen in patriarchal history. The ten in Sodom, if
ten righteous men could have been found, would have saved it, would
have been its atonement in a sense, not by their death on its behalf
but by their life. And Moses himself, standing alone between God
and Israel, prevails by his pleading and saves the nation from its
doom. So our Lord says of His disciples, "Ye are the salt of the
earth." Their holy devotion preserves the mass from moral corruption
and spiritual death. Again, "for the elect's sake," the days of
tribulation shall be shortened (Matt. xxiv. 22).

The ceremonies appointed for the cleansing and consecration of the
Levites, described in viii. 5-26, may be noticed here. They differed
considerably from those enjoined for the consecration of priests.
Neither were the Levites anointed with sacred oil, for instance,
nor were they sprinkled with the blood of sacrifices; nor, again,
do they seem to have worn any special dress, even in the tabernacle
court. There was, however, an impressive ritual which would produce
in their minds a consciousness of separation and devotion to God. The
water of expiation, literally of _sin_, was first to be sprinkled
upon them, a baptism not signifying anything like regeneration, but
having reference to possible defilements of the flesh. A razor was
then to be made to pass over the whole body, and the clothes were
to be washed, also to remove actual as well as legal impurity. This
cleansing completed, the sacrifices followed. One bullock for a
burnt offering, with its accompanying meal offering, and one for a
sin offering were provided. The people being assembled towards the
door of the tent of meeting, the Levites were placed in front of
them to be presented to Jehovah. The princes probably laid their
hands on the Levites, so declaring them the representatives of all
for their special office. Then Aaron had to offer the sacrifices
for the Levites, and the Levites themselves as living sacrifices to
Jehovah. The Levites laid their hands on the bullocks, making them
their substitutes for the symbolic purpose. Aaron and his sons slew
the animals and offered them in the appointed way, burning the one
bullock upon the altar, around which its blood had been sprinkled,
of the other burning only certain portions called the fat. Then
the ceremony of waving was performed, or what was possible in the
circumstances, each Levite being passed through the hands of Aaron
or one of his sons. So set apart, they were, according to viii. 24,
required to wait upon the work of the tent of meeting, each from his
twenty-fifth to his fiftieth year. The service had been previously
ordered to begin at the thirtieth year (iv. 3). Afterwards the time
of ministry was still further extended (1 Chron. xxiii. 24-27).

Such is the account of the symbolic cleansing and the representative
ministry of the Levites; and we see both a parallel and a contrast to
what is demanded now for the Christian life of obedience and devotion
to God. Purification there must be from all defilement of flesh
and spirit. With the change which takes place when by repentance
and faith in Christ we enter into the free service of God there
must be a definite and earnest purging of the whole nature. "As ye
presented your members as servants to uncleanness and to iniquity
unto iniquity, even so now present your members as servants to
righteousness unto sanctification" (Rom. vi. 19). "Mortify therefore
your members which are upon the earth; fornication, uncleanness,
passion, evil desire, and covetousness, the which is idolatry, ...
put ye also away all these: anger, wrath, malice, railing, shameful
speaking out of your mouth: lie not one to another; seeing that
ye have put off the old man with his doings, and have put on the
new man" (Col. iii. 5, 8, 9). Thus the purity of heart and soul so
imperfectly represented by the cleansings of the Levites is set
forth as the indispensable preparation of the Christian. And the
contrast lies in this, that the purification required by the New
Testament law is for all, and is the same for each. Whether one is
to serve in the ministry of the Gospel or sweep a room as for God's
cause, the same profound purity is needful. All in the Kingdom of God
are to be holy, for He is holy.


                          3. LEVITICAL SERVICE

                         NUMBERS iii. 14-39; iv

The sacred service of the Levites is described in detail. There are
three divisions, the Gershonites, the Kohathites, the Merarites.
The Gershonites, from a month old and upward, number 7,500; the
Kohathites, 8,600; the Merarites, 6,200. Eleazar, son of Aaron, is
prince of the princes of the Levites.

The office of the Kohathites is of peculiar sanctity, next to that
of Aaron and his sons. They are not "cut off" or specially separated
from among the Levites (iv. 18); but they have duties that require
great care, and they must not venture to approach the most holy
things till preparation has been made by the priests. The manner of
that preparation is fully described. When order has been given for
the setting forward of the camp, Aaron and his sons cover the ark of
the covenant first with the veil of the screen, then with a covering
of sealskin, and lastly with a cloth of blue; they also insert in the
rings the long staves with which the ark is to be carried. Next the
table of shewbread is covered with a blue cloth; the dishes, spoons,
bowls, and cups are placed on the top, over them a scarlet cloth,
and above that a sealskin covering; the staves of the table are
also placed in readiness. The candlestick and its lamps and other
appurtenances are wrapped up in like manner and put on a frame. Then
the golden altar by itself, and the vessels used in the service of
the sanctuary by themselves are covered with blue cloth and sealskin
and made ready for carriage. Finally, the great altar is cleansed of
ashes, covered up with purple cloth and sealskin, and its staves set
in their rings. When all this is done the sons of Kohath may advance
to bear the holy things, never touching them lest they die.

The question arises, why so great care is considered necessary that
none but the priests should handle the furniture of the sanctuary.
We have learned to think that a real religion should avoid secrecy,
that everything connected with it should be done in the open light of
day. Why, then, is the shrine of Jehovah guarded with such elaborate
precaution? And the answer is that the idea of mystery appears here
as absolutely needful, in order to maintain the solemn feelings of
the people and their sense of the holiness of God. Not only because
the Israelites were rude and earthly, but also because the whole
system was symbolic, the holy things were kept from common sight. In
this respect the worship described in these books of Moses resembled
that of other nations of antiquity. The Egyptian temple had its
innermost shrine where the arks of the gods were placed; and into
that most holy place with its silver soil the priests alone went. But
even Egyptian worship, with all its mystery, did not always conceal
the arks and statues of the gods. When those gods were believed to
be favourable, the arks were carried in procession, the images so
far unveiled that they could be seen by the people. It was entirely
different in the case of the sacred symbols and instruments of
Hebrew worship, according to the ideal of the law. And the elaborate
precautions are to be regarded as indicating the highest tide-mark
of symbolised sanctity. Jehovah was not like Egyptian or Assyrian
or Phœnician gods. These might be represented by statues which the
people could see. But everything used in His worship must be kept
apart. The worship must be of faith; and the ark which was the great
symbol must remain always invisible. The effect of this on the
popular mind was complex, varying with the changing circumstances of
the nation; and to trace it would be an interesting piece of study.
It may be remembered that in the time of most ardent Judaism the want
of the ark made no difference to the veneration in which the temple
was held and the intense devotion of the people to their religion.
The ark was used as a talisman in Eli's time; in the temple erected
after the captivity there was no ark; its place in the holy of holies
was occupied by a stone.

The Gershonites had as their charge the screens and curtains of the
tabernacle, or most holy place, and the tent of meeting or holy
place, also the curtains of the court of the tabernacle. The boards,
bars, pillars, and sockets of the tabernacle and of the court were to
be entrusted to the Merarites.

In the whole careful ordering of the duties to be discharged by
these Levites we see a figure of the service to be rendered to God
and men in one aspect of it. Organisation, attention to details,
and subordination of those who carry out schemes to the appointed
officials, and of all, both inferior and superior, to law--these
ideas are here fully represented. Assuming the incapacity of many for
spontaneous effort, the principle that God is not a God of confusion
but of order in the churches of the saints may be held to point to
subordination of a similar kind even under Christianity. But the idea
carried to its full limit, implies an inequality between men which
the free spirit of Christianity will not admit. It is an honour for
men to be connected with any spiritual enterprise, even as bearers of
burdens. Those who take such a place may be spiritual men, thoughtful
men, as intelligent and earnest as their official superiors. But the
Levites, according to the law, were to be bearers of burdens, menials
of the sanctuary from generation to generation. Here the parallel
absolutely fails. No Christian, however cordially he may fill such a
place for a time, is bound to it in perpetuity. His way is open to
the highest duties and honours of a redeemed son of God. In a sense
Judaism even did not prevent the spiritual advancement of any Levite,
or any man. The priesthood was practically closed, but the office of
the prophet, really higher than that of the priest, was not. From the
routine work of the priesthood men like Jeremiah and Ezekiel were
called by the Spirit of God to speak in the name of the Highest.
The word of the Lord was put into their mouths. Elijah, who was
apparently of the tribe of Manasseh, Amos and Daniel, who belonged to
Judah, became prophets. The open door for the men of the tribes was
into this calling. Neither in Israel nor in Christendom is priesthood
the highest religious function. The great servants of God might well
refuse it or throw aside its shackles.

FOOTNOTE:

[1] "Religion of the Semites," p. 445.




                                   IV

                       _DEFILEMENT AND PURGATION_

                               NUMBERS v


The separation of Israel as a people belonging to Jehovah proceeded
on ideas of holiness which excluded from privilege many of the
Hebrews themselves. The law did not ordain that in cases of
defilement there might be immediate purification by washing or
sacrifice. So far as ceremonial uncleanness was concerned, we may
think this might have been provided for, and moral offences alone
might have involved the offender in continued defilement. But just
as idolatry, blasphemy, and murder caused pollution which could
not be removed by sacrifice, but only by the capital punishment of
the guilty, so certain bodily conditions and defects, and certain
diseases, chiefly leprosy and those akin to it, were held to cause
a defilement which could not be purged by any ceremony. A high
standard of bodily health and purity was required for the priesthood;
a lower standard was to be applied to the people. And the system
declaring the uncleanness of many animals, and of the person under
various conditions, touched at countless points the life of society.
An Israelite who was unclean for one or other of a hundred reasons
could not approach the sanctuary. He had his portion in God after a
sense; yet for a time, it might be for life, the peculiar blessings
of holy fellowship were denied him. He could celebrate no feast. He
had no share in the great atonement. The precautions and terms to be
observed were of such a nature that if the law had been at any time
stringently enforced a very large percentage of the people would have
been denied access to the altar.

It may appear a strange thing that the precept, "Ye shall be holy;
for I am holy," was affixed not only to moral duties but with almost
the same force to ceremonial duties. We can understand this, however,
when we trace the result of the priestly ordinances. They created
religious care and feeling; and the end was gained not so much by
directing attention, as we now do, to faults of conduct, defects
of will, sins of injustice, impurity, intemperance, and the like,
but by keeping up a scrupulous attention to matters not, properly
speaking, either moral or immoral, not ethical as we say, which were
yet declared to be of moment in religion. The moral law did its part.
But to make the enforcement of moral statutes, many of which bore
on desire and will, the only means of urging the fear of God, would
have resulted practically in a very bare and desultory cultus. Among
a comparatively rude people like the Israelites it would have been
absurd to institute a religion consisting of "morality touched by
emotion." For the mass of people still it is equally hopeless. There
must be ordinances of prayer, praise, sacrament, and the duties which
reach Godward through the Church. The value of the whole ceremonial
system of the Mosaic law is clear from this point of view; and we
need not wonder in the least at the nature of many provisions which,
without grasp of the principle, we might reckon irksome and useless.
The origin of some of the statutes is apparently hygienic; others
again reach back to customs and beliefs of a very primitive world.
But they are made part of the sacred law in order to enforce the
conviction that the judgment of God enters into the whole of life,
follows men wherever they go, decides as to their state with relation
to Him hour by hour, almost moment by moment. The ceremonial law was
a constant and strenuous lesson in regard to the omnipresence of God,
and the oversight of human affairs by Him. It created a conscience of
God's existence, His control, His superintendence of each life. And
for a certain stage of the education of Israel this could be achieved
in no other way. The moral and spiritual progress of a people,
depending on the recognition of the authority of One who is of purer
eyes than to behold iniquity, depends also, of necessity, on the
sense of His oversight of human life at every point.


                       1. EXCLUSION FROM THE CAMP

                             NUMBERS v. 1-4

The rigidness of the law which excluded lepers from the camp and
afterwards from the cities had its necessity in the presumed nature
of their disease. Leprosy was regarded as contagious, and practically
incurable by any medical appliances, requiring to be kept in check by
strenuous measures. Care for the general health meant hardship to the
lepers; but this could not be avoided. From friends and home they were
sent forth to live together as best they might, and spend what remained
of life in almost hopeless separation. The authority of Moses is
attached to the statute of exclusion, and there can be no doubt of its
great antiquity. In Leviticus there are detailed enactments regarding
the disease, some of which contemplate its decay and provide for the
restoration to privilege of those who had been cured. The ceremonies
were complicated, and among them were sacrifices to be offered by way
of "atonement." The leper was alienated from God, severed from the
congregation as one guilty in the eye of the law (Lev. xiv. 12); and
there can be no wonder that with this among other facts before him the
writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews speaks of the law as having a mere
"shadow of the good things to come."

And yet, in view of the malignant nature of the disease and the
peril it caused to the general health, we must admit the wisdom of
segregating those afflicted with leprosy. That Israel might be a
robust people capable of its destiny, a rule like this was needful.
It anticipated our modern laws made in harmony with advanced medical
science, which require segregation or isolation in cases of virulent
disease.

It has been affirmed that leprosy was from the first regarded as
symbolic of moral disease, and that the legislation was from this
point of view. There is, however, no evidence to support the theory.
Indeed the conception of moral evil would have been confused rather
than helped by any such idea. For although evil habits taint the mind
and vice ruins it as leprosy taints and destroys the body; although
the infectious nature of sin is fitly indicated by the insidious
spread of this disease--one point in which there is no resemblance
would make the symbol dangerously misleading. A few here and there
were attacked by leprosy, and these with their blotched disfigured
bodies were easily distinguished from the healthy. But this was in
contrast with the secret moral malady by which all were tainted. The
teaching that leprosy is a type of sin would make, not for morality,
but for hypocrisy. The symptoms of a bad nature, like the signs of
leprosy, would be looked for and found by every man in his neighbour,
not in his own heart. The hypocrite would be encouraged in his
self-satisfaction because he escaped the judgment of his fellow men.
But the disease of sin is endemic, universal. The whole congregation
was by reason of that excluded from the sanctuary of God.

According to the idea which underlies the priest law, leprosy did
not typify sin; it meant sin. In no single place, indeed, is this
directly affirmed. Yet the belief connecting bodily afflictions and
calamities with transgressions implied it, and the fact that guilt
offerings had to be made for the leper when he was cleansed. Again,
in the cases of Miriam, of Gehazi, and of Uzziah, the punishment
of sin was leprosy. Under the conditions of climate which often
prevailed, the germs of this disease might rapidly be developed by
excitement, especially by the excitement of immoral rashness. Here
we may find the connection which the law assumes between leprosy and
guilt, and the origin of the statute which made the intervention
of the priests necessary. In their poor dwellings beyond camp and
city wall the lepers lay under a double reproach. They were not only
tainted in body but appeared as sinners above others, men on whom
some divine judgment had fallen, as the very name of their disease
implied. And not till One came who did not fear to lay His hand on
the leprous flesh, whose touch brought healing and life, was the
pressure of the moral condemnation taken away. Of many cases of
leprosy He would have said, as of the blindness He cured: "Neither
did this man sin, nor his parents."

Now is the law to be charged with creating a class of social pariahs?
Is there any reason for saying that in some way the legislation
should have expressed pity rather than the rigour which appears
in the passage before us and other enactments regarding leprosy?
It would be easy to bring arguments which would seem to prove the
law defective here. But in matters of this kind civilization and
Christian culture could not be forestalled. What was possible,
what in the conditions that existed could be carried into effect,
this only was commanded. These old enactments sprang out of the
best wisdom and religion of the age. But they do not represent
the whole of the Divine will, the Divine mercy, even as they were
contemporaneously revealed. Add to the statutes regarding leprosy the
other, "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself," and those that
enjoined kindness to the poor and provision for their needs, and the
true tenor of the legislation will be understood. According to these
laws there were to be no pariahs in Israel. It was a sad necessity
if any were excluded from the congregation of God's people. The laws
of brotherhood would insure for the wretched colony outside the camp
every possible consideration. Denied access to God in festival and
sacrifice, the lepers appealed to the humane feelings of the people.
With their pathetic cry, "Unclean, unclean!" their loose hair and
rent clothes, they confessed a miserable state that touched every
heart. As time went on, the law of segregation was interpreted
liberally. Even in the synagogues a place was set apart for the
lepers. The kindly disposition promoted by the Mosaic institutions
was shown thus, and in many other ways.

The lepers banished outside the camp remind us of those who have for
no wrong-doing of their own to endure social reproach. Were sometimes
good men and women among the Hebrews, men with kind hearts, good
mothers and daughters, attacked by this disease and compelled to
betake themselves to the squalid tents of the lepers? That decree
of rigorous precaution is outdone by the strange fact that under
the providence of God, in His world, the best have often had to
undergo opprobrium and cruelty; that Jesus Himself was crucified as
a malefactor, bore the curse of him that "hangeth upon a tree." We
see great suffering which is not due to moral delinquency; and we
see the sting of it taken quite away. The stern ordinances of nature
have light thrown upon them from a higher world. "Himself took our
infirmities and bare our sicknesses." For our sakes He was the object
of brutal mockery, the sufferer, the sacrifice.

Besides the lepers and those who had an issue, every one who was
unclean by reason of touching a dead body was to be excluded from
the camp. This provision appears to rest on the idea that death
was no "debt of nature," but unnatural, the result of the curse of
God. Associated, however, in the statute before us with leprosy,
defilement from the dead may have been decreed to prevent the spread
of disease. Many maladies too well known to us have an infectious
character; and those who were present at a death would be most
exposed to their influence. Pathological explanations do not by
any means account for all the kinds and causes of defilement; but
exclusion from the camp is the special point here; and the cases
may be classed together as having a common origin. The notion that
some demon or fallen spirit was at work both in producing leprosy
and in causing death, was involved in the customs of some barbarous
tribes and entered into the beliefs of the Egyptians and Assyrians.
This explanation, however, is too remote and alien from Judaism to
be applied to these statutes regarding uncleanness, at least in the
form they have in the Mosaic books. The few hints surviving in them,
as where a bird was to be allowed to fly away when the leper was
pronounced clean, cannot be permitted to fix a charge of superstition
on the whole code.

A singular point in the statute regarding uncleanness "by the dead"
is that the word נֶפֶשׁ (_nephesh_) stands apparently for the
dead body. Of this some other explanation is needed than the free
transference of meanings in Hebrew. Here and elsewhere in the Book
of Numbers (vi. 11; ix. 6, 7, 10; xix. 13), as well as in various
passages in Leviticus, defilement is attributed to the _nephesh_.
Commonly the word means _soul_ or animal life-principle. When
connected with death it corresponds to our word "ghost," as in Job
xi. 20; Jer. xv. 9. Now the law was that not only those who touched
a dead body, but all present in a house when death took place in it,
were unclean. The question occurs whether the _nephesh_, or soul
escaping at death, was believed to defile. As if in doubt here a
rabbi said, "The body and the soul may plead successfully not guilty
by charging their sinful life each upon the other. The body may
say: 'Since that guilty soul parted with me, I have been lying in
the grave as harmless as a stone.' The soul may plead: 'Since that
depraved body separated from me, I flutter about in the air like an
innocent bird.'" Is it not possible that the _nephesh_ meant the
effluvium of the dead body, the active element which, springing from
corruption, diffused uncleanness through the whole house of death? It
seems quite in harmony with other uses of the word, and with the idea
of defilement, to interpret "was unclean by the _nephesh_," "sinned
by the _nephesh_," as technical expressions carrying this meaning.
The passage Numb. xix. 13 is peculiarly instructive--אֲשֶׁר־יָמוּת
הָאָדָם בְּנֶפֶשׁ בְּמֵת כָּל־הַנֹּגֵעַ--"Every one coming in
contact with the dead, with the _nephesh_ of a man who has died." To
translate, "with the corpse of a man who has died," would fix on the
language the fault of tautology. In Psalm xvii. 9 _nephesh_ has the
meaning of _deadly_, that is to say _breathing death_; and the idea
here points to the meaning suggested.

The reason given for the banishment of the unclean is the presence
of God in the congregation--"That they defile not their camp, in
the midst whereof I dwell." All that are unhealthy, and those who
have been in contact with death, which is the result of irremediable
disease or accident, must be withdrawn from the precincts that belong
to the Holy God. Human maladies are in contrast with the Divine
health, death is in contrast to the Divine life. Here the whole
scope of the legislation regarding defilement has its highest range
of suggestion. It was a part of moral education to realise that God
was separate from all distortion, wasting, and decay. In glad and
deathless power He reigned in the midst of Israel. From the living
God man received life which had to be kept pure and disciplined.
Among the Egyptians it was held to be sacrilege when the operator,
in the process preparatory to embalming, opened a human body. He who
made the incision was driven out of the room by his assistants with
abuse and violence. Quite different is the idea of the Mosaic law
which makes the holiness belong entirely to God, and requires of
men the preservation of the clean life He has given. Every statute
suggests that there is a tendency in the creature to fall away from
purity and become unfit for fellowship with the Most Holy.


                       2. ATONEMENT FOR TRESPASS

                            NUMBERS v. 5-10

The enactment of this passage refers to the sin of theft or any other
breach of the eighth commandment which involved trespass not only
against man, but also against God--"When a man or woman shall commit
any sin that men commit to do a trespass against the Lord, and that
soul be guilty; then shall they confess their sin which they have
done." The statute supplements one given in Lev. vi. 1-4, omitting
some details, but adding the provision that if the person defrauded
has died, restitution shall be made to the _goël_, and if there is no
surviving relation, to the priest. The cases specified in Leviticus
are those of false dealing in regard to a deposit or a bargain,
robbery, oppression,--probably in the way of withholding hire from a
labourer,--finding what was lost and denying it; but in each instance
false swearing is added to the offence and constitutes it a trespass
against the Lord. Restitution to man must be made by returning the
amount and one-fifth in addition; to God by bringing a ram without
blemish, with which the priest makes atonement.

In this statute the punishment does not seem severe. But the penalty
is imposed after confession when the offence has been for some time
undetected. The ordinary law required for the theft of an ox, if the
animal had not been slaughtered, double restitution; and if it had
been slaughtered or sold, fivefold restitution. In the case of a sheep
slaughtered or sold the restitution was to be fourfold. Confession of
the theft, according to the present statute, diminishes the penalty.

Noticeable particularly is the provision for atonement, which is
nowhere else admitted in connection with a serious breach of the
moral law. Any offence against the first four commandments was to be
punished with death; so also were murder, adultery, and certain other
crimes. It might have been expected that false swearing by any one in
regard to theft or valuables intrusted to him would add to his guilt.
Here, however, by means of the ram of atonement even that offence is
apparently expiated. Possibly the confession is held to mitigate the
crime. Still the nature of the statute is surprising and exceptional.


                        3. THE WATER OF JEALOUSY

                            NUMBERS v. 11-31

The long and remarkable statute regarding the water of jealousy seems
to have been interposed to prevent, by means of an ordeal, that cruel
practice of peremptory divorce which had been in vogue at some period
among the Hebrews. The position given to woman by the old customs
must have been exceedingly low. Under polygamy a wife was in constant
danger of suspicions and accusations she had no means of removing.
The whole scope of this enactment and the means used for deciding
between the husband and a suspected wife point to the frequency and
general groundlessness of charges made by men in the "hardness of
their hearts," or by other women in the hardness of theirs.

The ordeal to which the wife was to be subjected was twofold. One
point was the imprecation of the Divine curse upon herself if she had
been guilty. This oath was administered in terms and with ceremonies
fitted to produce the most profound impression. She is set "before the
Lord"--probably in the court of the sanctuary. Her hair is loose. She
has the offering of jealousy in her hand--the tenth part of an ephah
of barley-meal. The priest holds a basin of the "water of jealousy."
The terms of the curse with its frightful consequences are not only
repeated in her hearing, but written on a scroll which is dropped into
the water. The second thing is her drinking of the "water of jealousy,"
"holy water" mingled with dust from the floor of the sanctuary, and
with the terms of the curse. The nature of the ordeal was such that
few guilty persons would have braved it. The only thing which appears
wanting is a provision for the punishment of the man whose wife had
passed the terrible test. Since the punishment of this crime was death,
and he made the accusation without cause, his own judgment should
have followed. Here, however, deference had to be paid to the notions
of the time, as our Lord clearly indicates. The absolute right, the
just equality between husband and wife, could not be established. Nor
indeed, with all our progress, is it yet secured.

The ordeal of the water of jealousy must have saved many an innocent
life from wreck. In one sense it was part of a system designed to
maintain a high standard of morality, and in that system it had a
place which at the time could not be filled in any other way. The
main stress lies on the oath of purgation; and to the present day
in certain ecclesiastical courts this is in use for the purpose of
bringing to an end processes not otherwise capable of solution.
It must be noted that our marriage laws, lax as they are thought
to be, do not give to a husband anything like the power or allow
divorce with anything like the facility admitted by the Mosaic law
as some of the Rabbis interpreted it. And this ordeal was of such a
nature that if those in use throughout Europe only a century ago or
thereby, in the trial of witches for instance, be compared with it,
we can at once see its superiority. Those barbarous tests, not used
by the vulgar alone, but by religious men and Church authorities,
made escape from false accusation next to impossible. Here there
is absolutely nothing required which could in any sense injure or
imperil an innocent woman. She might take her oath, see it written,
and drink the water without the least fear or hesitation. The
beneficence of the law is strongly marked along with its wisdom. It
was a wonderful provision for the time.




                                   V

                  _NAZIRITISM: THE BLESSING OF AARON_

                               NUMBERS vi


1. The custom of Naziritism, which tended to form a semi-religious
caste, is obscure in its origin. The cases of Samson and Samuel imply
that before birth some were bound in terms of this vow by their
parents. In the passage before us nothing whatever is said as to the
reasons which the law recognised for the practice of Naziritism. We
may believe, however, that it was from the first, like many votive
customs, distinctly religious. One who had been delivered from some
danger or restored to health might adopt this method of showing his
thankfulness to God. It is impossible to connect Naziritism with any
sacerdotal duty. A man under the vow had no function, no privilege,
that in the least approached that of the priest. Nor can we trace any
parallel between the Nazirite rule and that of the fakirs of India
or the dervishes of Egypt and Arabia, whose poverty is their mark of
consecration. There is, however, some resemblance to the vow of the
Arab pilgrim, who, on his way to the holy place, must not cut or dress
his hair, and must abstain from bloodshed. The prophet Amos (ii. 11)
claims that God had raised up young men to be Nazirites, and he places
their influence almost on a level with that of the prophets as a means
of blessing to the people. We may believe, therefore, that they helped
both morality and religion; and the conditions of their vow seem to
have given them fine bodily health and personal appearance.

When the Nazirite vow was undertaken for a term, say thirty, sixty, or
a hundred days, the law assumed its religious character, prescribed the
conditions to be observed, the means of removing accidental defilement,
and the ceremonies to be performed when the period of separation
closed. Any man might devote himself without appealing to the priest or
going through any religious rite; and in general his own conscience was
depended on to make him rigidly attentive to his vow. There was to be
no monastic association of Nazirites, no formal watch kept over their
conduct. They mingled with others in ordinary life, and went about
their business as at other times. But the unshorn hair distinguished
them; they felt that the eye of God as well as the eyes of men were
upon them, and walked warily under the sense of their pledge. The
discharge which had to be given by the priest was a further check; it
would have been withheld if any charge of laxity had been made against
the Nazirite. The ceremonies of release were of a kind fitted to
attract general attention.

The modern pledge of abstinence bears in various points resemblance
to the Nazirite vow. We can easily believe that indulgence in strong
drink was one of the principal sins against which Naziritism testified.
And as in ancient Israel that body of abstainers from the fruit of the
vine, honourably known as a caste, acknowledged by the Divine law,
formed a constant check on intemperance, so the existence of a large
class among ourselves, bound to abstinence, aids most effectually
in restraining the drinking customs of the present age. When we add
to the approval of Naziritism which is before us here the fact that
priests in the discharge of their ministry were required to forego
the use of wine, the sanction of Hebrew legislation on its moral side
may certainly be claimed for the total abstinence pledge. No doubt
the circumstances differ greatly. Wine was the common beverage in
Palestine. It was in general so slightly intoxicating that the use of
it brought little temptation. But our distilled liquors and fermented
drinks are so strongly alcoholic, so dangerous to health and morals,
that the argument for abstinence is now immensely greater than it was
among the Hebrews. Not only as an example of self-restraint, but as a
safeguard against constant peril, the pledge of abstinence deservedly
enjoys the sanction of the Churches of Christ.

On the other hand, the pledge of the total abstainer, like the vow
of the Nazirite, carries with it a certain moral danger. One who,
having come voluntarily under such a pledge, allows himself to break
it, suffers a serious loss of spiritual power. The abstainer, like
the Nazirite, is his own witness, his own judge. But if his pledge
has been sacredly undertaken, solemnly made, any breach of it is an
offence to conscience, a denial of obligation to God which must react
on the will and life. It was not by using strong drink that Samson
broke his vow of Naziritism, but in a far less serious manner--by
allowing his hair to be cut off. Still his case is an instructive
parable. The Spirit of the Lord passed from him; he became weak as
other men, the prey of his enemies. The man who has come under the
bond of total abstinence, especially in a religious way, and breaks
it, becomes weaker than others. To confess his fault and resume his
resolution may not lift him up again. The will is less capable, the
sense of sacredness less imperative and potent.

It is hard to say why the peculiar defilement caused by touching a
dead body or being present at a death is that alone on which special
attention is fixed in the Nazirite law (vi. 9 ff.). One would have
expected the other offence of using wine to be dealt with rather than
mere accidents, so to speak. We can see that the law as it stands is
one of many that must have preceded the prophetic period. If Amos,
for example, had influenced the nature of the legislation regarding
Naziritism, it would have been in the direction of making drunkenness
rather than ceremonial uncleanness a special point in the statutes.
From beginning to end of his prophecy he makes no distinct reference
to ceremonial defilement. But injustice, intemperance, disaffection to
Jehovah, are constantly and vehemently denounced. Hosea, again, does
refer to unclean food, the necessity of eating which would be part
of Israel's punishment in exile. But he too, unless in this casual
reference, is a moralist--cares nothing, so far as his language goes,
for the contact with dead bodies or any other ceremonial defilement.
Judging a Nazirite, he would certainly have regarded sobriety and
purity of life as the tests of consecration--drunkenness and neglect
of God as the sins that deserved punishment. Hosea's condemnation of
Israel is: "They have left off to take heed to Jehovah. Whoredom and
wine and new wine take away the understanding." In Ezekiel, whose
schemes of worship and of priestly work are declared to have been the
origin of the Priests' Code, the same tendency is to be found. He
has a passage regarding unclean foods, which assumes the existence of
statutes on the subject. But as a legislator he is not concerned with
ceremonial transgressions, the defilement caused by dead bodies, and
the like. Take into account the whole of his prophecy, and it will be
seen that the new heart and the right spirit are for Ezekiel the main
things, and the worship of the temple he describes is to be that of a
people not ceremonially consecrated, but spiritually pure, and so in
moral unity with God. He adopts the old forms of worship along with the
priesthood, but his desire is to give the ritual an ethical basis and
aim.

The statute which applies to the discharge of the Nazirite from his
rule (vi. 13-21) is exceedingly detailed, and contains provisions
which on the whole seem fitted to deter rather than encourage the
vow. The Nazirite could not escape from obligation as he had entered
upon it, without priestly intervention and mediation. He had to offer
an oblation,--one he-lamb of the first year for a burnt offering;
one ewe-lamb of the first year for a sin offering; and for peace
offerings a ram, with a basket of unleavened bread, cakes of fine
flour mingled with oil, unleavened wafers anointed with oil; and
meal offerings and drink offerings. These had to be presented by the
priest in the prescribed manner. In addition to the possible cost
of repeated cleansings which might be needful during the period of
separation, the expense of those offerings must have been to many in
a humble station almost prohibitory. We cannot help concluding that
under this law, at whatever time it prevailed, Naziritism became
the privilege of the more wealthy. Those who took the vow under the
appointed conditions must have formed a kind of puritan aristocracy.

The final ceremonies included burning of the hair, which was
carefully removed at the door of the tent of meeting. It was to
be consumed in the fire under the peace offering, the idea being
that the obligation of the vow and perhaps its sanctity had been
identified with the flowing locks. The last rite of all was similar
to that used in the consecration of priests. The sodden shoulder
of the ram, an unleavened cake, and an unleavened wafer were to be
placed on the hands of the Nazirite, and waved for a wave offering
before the Lord--thereafter, with other parts of the sacrifice,
falling to the priest. After that the man might drink wine, perhaps
in a formal way at the close of the ceremonies.

To explain this elaborate ritual of discharge it has been affirmed
that the idea of the vow "culminated in the sacrificial festival
which terminated the consecration, and in this attained to its
fullest manifestation." If this were so, ritualism was indeed
predominant. To make such the underlying thought is to declare that
the abstinence of the Nazirite from strong drink and dainties, to
which a moralist would attach most importance, was in the eye of
the law nothing compared to the symbolic feasting with God and the
sacerdotal functions of the final ceremony. Far more readily would we
assume that the ritual of the discharge was superfluously added to
the ancient law at a time when the hierarchy was in the zenith of its
power. But, as we have already seen, the final rites were of a kind
fitted to direct public attention to the vow, and may have had their
use chiefly in preventing any careless profession of Naziritism,
tending to bring it into contempt.

One other question still demands consideration: What was meant by the
"sin offering" which had to be presented by the Nazirite when he had
unintentionally incurred uncleanness, and the sin offering which had to
be offered at the time of his discharge--what, in short, was the idea
of sin to which this oblation corresponded? The case of the Nazirite
is peculiarly instructive, for the point to be considered is seen here
entirely free from complications. The Nazirite does not undertake
the obligation of his vow as an acknowledgment of wrong he has done,
nor does he place himself under any moral disadvantage by assuming
it. There is no reason why in becoming a Nazirite or ceasing to be a
Nazirite he should appear as a transgressor; rather is he honouring
God by what he does. Suppose he has been present at a death which has
unexpectedly taken place--that involves no moral fault by which a man's
conscience should be burdened. Deliberately to touch a dead body might,
under the law, have brought the sense of wrongdoing; but to be casually
in a defiled house could not. Yet an atonement was necessary (vi. 11).
It is expressly said that a sin offering and a burnt offering must be
presented to "make atonement for him, for that he sinned by reason of
the dead." And again, when he has kept the terms of his vow to the
last, honouring Jehovah by his devotion, commending morality by his
abstinence, maintaining more rigidly than other Israelites the idea
of consecration to Jehovah, he cannot be released from his obligation
till a sin offering is made for him. There is no moral offence to be
expiated. Rather, to judge in an ordinary human way, he has carried
obedience farther than his fellow-Israelites.

The whole circumstances show that the sin offering has no reference
to moral pollution. The idea is not that of removing a shadow from
the conscience, but taking away a taint of the flesh, or, in certain
cases, of the mind which has become aware of some occult injury. A
clear division was made between the moral and the immoral; and it was
assumed that all Israelites were keeping the moral commandments of
the law. Then moral persons were divided into those who were clean
and those who were unclean; and the ceremonial law alone determined
the conditions of undefiled and acceptable life. If the law declared
that a sin offering was necessary, it meant not that there had been
immorality, but that some specified or unspecified taint lay upon a
man. No doubt there were principles according to which the law was
framed. But they might not be apparent; and no man could claim to
have them explained. Now with regard to Naziritism, the idea was that
of a vivid and pure form of life to which a man might attain if he
would discipline himself. And it seems to have been understood that
in returning from this to the common life of the race an apology, so
to speak, had to be made to Jehovah and to religion. The higher range
of life during the term of separation was peculiarly sensitive to
invasions of earthly circumstance, and especially of the defilement
caused by death; and for anything of this sort there was needed
more than apology, more than trespass-offering. The Nazirite going
back to ordinary life was regarded in more senses than one as a
sinner. The conditions of his vow had been difficult to keep, and,
presumably, had been broken. He was all the more under the suspicion
of defilement that he had undertaken special obligations of purity.
A peculiar form of mysticism is involved here, an effort of humanity
to reach transcendental holiness. And the law seemed to give up
each experiment with a sigh. In the story of Samson we have only the
popular pictorial elements of Naziritism. The statutes convey hints
of deeper thought and feeling.

Generally speaking the whole system of purification enjoined by
the ceremonial law, the constant succession of cleansings and
sacrifices, must have appeared to be arbitrary. But it would be a
mistake to suppose that there was no esoteric meaning, no purpose
beyond that of keeping up the sense of religious duty and the
need of mediation. Some intangible defilement seems to have been
associated with everything mundane, everything human. The aim was to
represent sanctity of a transcendent kind, the nature of which no
words could express, for which the shedding of blood alone supplied a
sufficiently impressive symbol.


2. The blessing which the priests were commissioned to pronounce on
the people (vi. 24-26) was in the following terms:--

      "Jehovah bless thee, and keep thee:
       Jehovah make His face to shine upon thee, and be gracious unto
            thee:
       Jehovah lift up His countenance upon thee, and give thee peace."

By means of this threefold benediction the name of Jehovah was to be
put upon the children of Israel--that is to say, their consecration
to Him as His accepted flock and their enjoyment of His covenant
grace were to be signified. In a sense the invocation of this
blessing was the highest function of the priest: he became the
channel of spiritual endowment in which the whole nation shared.

It is a striking fact that the distinctive ideas conveyed in the three
portions of the blessing--Preservation, Enlightenment, Peace--bear a
relation, by no means fanciful, to the work of the Father, the Son, and
the Holy Spirit. First are invoked the providential care and favour of
God, as Ruler of the universe, Arbiter among the nations, Source of
creaturely life, Upholder of human existence. Israel as a whole, and
each individual Israelite as a member of the sacred community, should
in terms of the covenant enjoy the guardianship of the Almighty. The
idea is expanded in Psalm cxxi.:--

      "Jehovah is thy keeper:
       Jehovah is thy shade upon thy right hand.
       The sun shall not smite thee by day,
       Nor the moon by night.
       Jehovah shall keep thee from all evil;
       He shall keep thy soul.
       Jehovah shall keep thy going out and thy coming in,
       From this time forth and for evermore."

And in almost every Psalm the theme of Divine preservation is touched
on either in thanksgiving, prayer, or exultant hope.

      "For God will save Zion, and build the cities of Judah;
       And they shall abide there, and have it in possession.
       The seed also of His servants shall inherit it;
       And they that love His name shall dwell therein."

Often sorely pressed by the nations around, their land made the
battle-field of empires, the Hebrews could comfort themselves with
the assurance that Jehovah of Hosts was with them, that the God of
Jacob was their refuge. And each son of Abraham had his own portion
in the blessing.

      "I will say of Jehovah, He is my refuge and my fortress,
       My God in whom I trust."

The keynote of joyful confidence in the unseen King was struck in the
benediction which, pronounced by Aaron and by the high-priests after
him, associated Israel's safety with obedience to all the laws and
forms of religion.

The second member of the blessing indicates under the figure of the
shining of Jehovah's face the revelation of enlightening truth. Here
are implied the unfolding of God's character, the kindly disclosure
of His will in promise and prophecy, the opening to the minds of men
of those high and abiding laws that govern their destiny. There is a
forth-shining of the Divine countenance which troubles and dismays
the human heart: "The face of the Lord is against them that do evil."
But here is denoted that gracious radiance which came to its fulness
in Christ. And of this Divine shining Jacob Boehme writes: "As the
sun in the visible world ruleth over evil and good, and with its
light and power and all whatsoever itself is, is present everywhere,
and penetrates every being, and yet in its image-like [symbolic] form
doth not withdraw again to itself with its efflux, but wholly giveth
itself into every being, and yet ever remaineth whole, and nothing
of its being goeth away therewith: thus also it is to be understood
concerning Christ's power and office which ruleth in the inward
spiritual world visibly, and in the outward world invisibly, and
throughly penetrateth the faithful man's soul, spirit, and heart....
And as the sun worketh through and through an herb so that the herb
becometh solar (or filled with the virtue of the sun, and as it were
so converted by the sun that it becometh wholly of the nature of the
sun): so Christ ruleth in the resigned will in soul and body over all
evil inclinations, over Satan's introduced lust, and generateth the
man to be a new heavenly creature and wholly floweth into him."[2]

For the Hebrew people that shining of the face of God became
spiritual and potent for salvation less through the law, the
priesthood, and the ritual, than through psalm and prophecy. Of the
revelation of the law Paul says, "The ministration of death written
and engraven on stones came with glory, so that the children of
Israel could not look steadfastly upon the face of Moses, for the
glory of his face." With such holy and awful brightness did God
appear in the law, that Moses had to cover his face from which the
splendour was reflected. But the psalmist, pressing towards the
light with fine spiritual boldness and humility, could say, "When
Thou saidst, Seek ye My face; my heart said unto Thee, Thy face,
Lord, will I seek" (Psalm xxvii. 8); and again, "Turn us again, O
God of hosts, and cause Thy face to shine; and we shall be saved"
(Psalm lxxx. 7). And in an oracle of Isaiah (liv. 8), Jehovah says,
"In overflowing wrath I hid My face from thee for a moment; but with
everlasting kindness shall I have mercy on thee."

In the third clause of the benediction the peace of God, that calm of
mind, conscience, and life which accompanies salvation, is invoked.
From the trouble and sorrow and tumult of existence, from the fear
of hostile power, from evil influences seen and unseen, the Divine
hand will give salvation. It seems indeed to be the meaning that the
gracious regard of God is enough. Are His people in affliction and
anxiety? Jehovah's look will deliver them. They will feel calmly safe
as if a shield were interposed between them and the keen arrows
of jealousy and hatred. "In covert of Thy presence shalt Thou hide
them from the plottings of man: Thou shalt keep them secretly in a
pavilion from the strife of tongues." Their tranquillity is described
by Isaiah: "In righteousness shalt thou be established: thou shalt
be far from oppression, for thou shalt not fear; and from terror,
for it shall not come near thee ... no weapon that is formed against
thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in
judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of
the Lord, and their righteousness which is of Me, saith the Lord."

The peace of the human soul is not, however, entirely provided for by
the assurance of Divine protection from hostile force. A man is not
in perfect tranquillity because he belongs to a nation or a church
defended by omnipotence. His own troubles and fears are the main
causes of unrest. And the Spirit of God, who cleanses and renews the
soul, is the true Peace-giver. "To win true peace a man needs to
feel himself directed, pardoned, and sustained by a supreme power,
to feel himself in the right road, at the point where God would have
him to be--in order with God and the universe." In his heart the note
of harmony must be struck deep and true, in profound reconciliation
and unity with God. With this in view the oracles of Ezekiel connect
renewal and peace. "I will put My Spirit in you, and ye shall live
... I will make a covenant of peace with them; it shall be an
everlasting covenant with them ... and I will set My sanctuary in the
midst of them for evermore."

The protection of God the Father, the grace and truth of the Son,
the comfort and peace of the Spirit--were these, then, implied
in Israel's religion and included in this blessing of Aaron?
Germinally, at least, they were. The strain of unity running through
the Old and New Testaments is heard here and in the innumerable
passages that may be grouped along with the threefold benediction.
The work of Christ, as Revealer and Saviour, did not begin when He
appeared in the flesh. As the Divine Word He spoke by every prophet
and through the priest to the silent congregations age after age.
Nor did the dispensation of the Spirit arise on the world like a new
light on that day of Pentecost when the disciples of Christ were
gathered in their upper chamber and the tongues of fire were seen.
There were those even in the old Hebrew days on whom the Spirit was
poured from on high, with whom "judgment dwelt in the wilderness, and
righteousness in the fruitful field: and the work of righteousness
was peace, and the effect of righteousness quietness and assurance
for ever." He who is our peace came in the appointed time to fill
with eternal meaning the old benedictions, and set our assurance on
the immovable rock of His own sacrifice and power.

FOOTNOTE:

[2] "Concerning the Holy Baptism," chap. i.




                                   VI

                        _SANCTUARY AND PASSOVER_


                    1. THE OFFERINGS OF THE PRINCES

                              NUMBERS vii

The opening verses of the chapter seem to imply that immediately after
the erection of the tabernacle the gifts of the princes were brought
by way of thank offering. The note of time, "on the day that Moses had
made an end of setting up the tabernacle," appears very precise. It
has been made a difficulty that, according to the narrative of Exodus,
a considerable time had elapsed since the work was finished. But this
account of the oblations of the princes, like a good many other ancient
records incorporated in the present book, has a place given it from the
desire to include everything that seemed to belong to the time of the
wilderness. All incidents could not be arranged in consecutive order,
because, let us suppose, the Book of Exodus to which this and others
properly belonged was already complete. Numbers is the more fragmentary
book. The expression, "on the day," must apparently be taken in a
general sense as in Gen. ii. 4: "These are the generations of the
heavens and of the earth in the day that the Lord God made earth and
heaven." In Numb. ix. 15 the same note of time, "on the day that the
tabernacle was reared up," marks the beginning of another reminiscence
or tradition. The setting up of the tabernacle and consecration of the
altar gave occasion presumably for this manifestation of generosity.
But the offerings described could not be provided immediately; they
must have taken time to prepare. Golden spoons of ten shekels' weight
were not to be found ready-made in the camp; nor were the oil and fine
flour to be had at a day's notice. Of course the gifts might have been
prepared in anticipation.

The account of the bringing of the offerings by the princes on twelve
successive days, one Sabbath at least included, gives the impression
of a festival display. The narrator dwells with some pride on the
exhibition of religious zeal and liberality, a fine example set to the
people by men in high position. The gifts had not been asked by Moses;
they were purely voluntary. Considering the value of precious metals
at the time, and the poverty of the Israelites, they were handsome,
though not extravagant. It is estimated that the gold and silver of
each prince would equal in value about seven hundred and thirty of our
shillings, and so the whole amount contributed, without regarding the
changed value of the metals, would be equivalent to some four hundred
and thirty-eight pounds sterling. In addition there were the fine flour
and oil, and the bullocks, rams, lambs, and kids for sacrifice.

It is an obvious remark here that spontaneous liberality has in the
very form of the narrative the very highest commendation. Nothing
could be more fitted to create in the minds of the people respect for
the sanctuary and the worship associated with it than this hearty
dedication of their wealth by the heads of the tribes. As the people
saw the slow processions moving day by day from the different parts of
the camp, and joined in raising their hallelujahs of joy and praise, a
spirit of generous devotion would be kindled in many hearts. It appears
a singular agreement that each prince of a tribe gave precisely the
same as his neighbour. But by this arrangement one was not put to shame
by the greater liberality of another. Often, as we know, there is in
giving, quite as much of human rivalry as of holy generosity. One must
not be outdone by his neighbour, would rather surpass his neighbour.
Here all appears to be done in the brotherly spirit.

Does the author of Numbers present an ideal for us to keep in view
in our dedication of riches to the service of the Gospel? It was in
full accord with the symbolic nature of Hebrew religion that believers
should enrich the tabernacle and give its services an air of splendour.
Almost the only way for the Israelites to honour God in harmony
with their separation from others as His people, was that of making
glorious the house in which He set His name, the whole arrangements
for sacrifice and festival and priestly ministration. In the temple of
Solomon that idea culminated which on this occasion fixed the value and
use of the princes' gifts. But under Christianity the service of God is
the service of mankind. When the thought and labour of the disciples
of Christ are devoted to the needs of men there is a tribute to the
glory of God. "It has been said--it is true--that a better and more
honourable offering is made to our Master in ministry to the poor, in
extending the knowledge of His name, in the practice of the virtues
by which that name is hallowed, than in material gifts to His temple.
Assuredly it is so: woe to all who think that any other kind or manner
of offering may in any way take the place of these."[3] The decoration
of the house used for worship, its stateliness and charm, are secondary
to the upbuilding of that temple of which believing men and women are
the eternal stones, for basement, pillar, and wall. In the development
of Judaism the temple with its costly sacrifices and ministries
swallowed up the means and enthusiasm of the people. Israel recognised
no duty to the outside world. Even its prophets, because they were not
identified with the temple worship, were in the main neglected and left
to penury. It is a mistaken use of the teaching of the Old Testament
to take across its love of splendour in sanctuary and worship, while
the spread of Christian truth abroad and among the poor is scantily
provided for.

But the liberality of the leaders of the tribes, and of all who in
the times of the old covenant gave freely to the support of religion,
stands before us to-day as a noble example. In greater gratitude for
a purer faith, a larger hope, we should be more generous. Devoting
ourselves first as living sacrifices, holy and acceptable to God, we
should count it an honour to give in proportion to our ability. One
after another, every prince, every father of a family, every servant
of the Lord, to the poorest widow, should bring a becoming gift.

       *       *       *       *       *

The chapter closes with a verse apparently quite detached from
the narrative as well as from what follows, which, however, has a
singular importance as embodying the law of the oracle. "And when
Moses went into the tent of meeting to speak with Him, then he heard
the Voice speaking unto him from above the mercy-seat that was upon
the ark of the testimony, from between the two cherubim: and he
spake unto Him." At first this may seem exceedingly anthropomorphic.
It is a human voice that is heard by Moses speaking in response to
his inquiries. One is there, in the darkness behind the veil, who
converses with the prophet as friend communicates with friend. Yet,
on reflection, it will be felt that the statement is marked by a
grave idealism and has an air of mystery befitting the circumstances.
There is no form or visible manifestation, no angel or being in human
likeness, representing God. It is only a Voice that is heard. And
that Voice, as proceeding from above the mercy-seat which covered the
law, is a revelation of what is in harmony with the righteousness and
truth, as well as the compassion, of the Unseen God. The separateness
of Jehovah is very strikingly suggested. Here only, in this tent
of meeting, apart from the common life of humanity, can the one
prophet-mediator receive the sacred oracles. And the veil still
separates even Moses from the mystic Voice. Yet God is so akin to men
that He can use their words, make His message intelligible through
Moses to those who are not holy enough to hear for themselves, but
are capable of responding in obedient faith.

Whatever is elsewhere said in regard to the Divine communications
that were given through Moses must be interpreted by this general
statement. The revelations to Israel came in the silence and mystery
of this place of audience, when the leader of the people had
withdrawn from the bustle and strain of his common tasks. He must
be in the exalted mood this highest of all offices requires. With
patient, earnest soul he must wait for the Word of God. There is
nothing sudden, no violent flash of light on the ecstatic mind. All
is calm and grave.


                           2. THE CANDELABRUM

                           NUMBERS viii. 1-4

The seven-branched candlestick with its lamps stood in the outer
chamber of the tabernacle into which the priests had frequently to
go. When the curtain at the entrance of the tent was drawn aside
during the day there was abundance of light in the Holy Place, and
then the lamps were not required. It may indeed appear from Exod.
xxvii. 20, that one lamp of the seven fixed on the candelabrum was to
be kept burning by day as well as by night. Doubt, however, is thrown
on this by the command, repeated in Lev. xxiv. 1-4, that Aaron shall
order it "from evening to morning;" and Rabbi Kimchi's statement that
the "western lamp" was always found burning cannot be accepted as
conclusive. In the wilderness, at all events, no lamp could be kept
always alight; and from 1 Sam. iii. 3 we learn that the Divine voice
was heard by the child-prophet when Eli was laid down in his place,
"and the lamp of God was not yet gone out" in the temple where the
ark of God was. The candelabrum therefore seems to have been designed
not specially as a symbol, but for use. And here direction is given,
"When thou lightest the lamps, the seven lamps shall give light in
front of the candlestick." All were to be so placed upon the supports
that they might shine across the Holy Place, and illuminate the altar
of incense and the table of shewbread.

The text goes on to state that the candlestick was all of beaten work
of gold; "unto the base thereof and unto the flowers thereof, it
was beaten work," and the pattern was that which Jehovah had showed
Moses. The material, the workmanship, and the form, not particularly
important in themselves, are anew referred to because of the special
sacredness belonging to all the furniture of the tabernacle.

The attempt to fasten typical meanings to the seven lights of the
candelabrum, to the ornaments and position, and especially to project
those meanings into the Christian Church, has little warrant even
from the Book of Revelation, where Christ speaks as "He that walketh
in the midst of the seven golden candlesticks." There can be no
doubt, however, that symbolic references may be found, illustrating
in various ways the subjects of revelation and the Christian life.

The "tent of meeting" may represent to us that chamber or temple of
reverent inquiry where the voice of the Eternal is heard, and His
glory and holiness are realised by the seeker after God. It is a
chamber silent, solemn, and dark, curtained in such gloom, indeed,
that some have maintained there is no revelation to be had, no
glimpse of Divine life or love. But as the morning sunshine flowed
into the Holy Place when the hangings were drawn aside, so from the
natural world light may enter the chamber in which fellowship with
God is sought. "The invisible things of Him since the creation of
the world are clearly seen, being perceived through the things that
are made, even His everlasting power and divinity." The world is not
God, its forces are not in the true sense elemental--do not belong to
the being of the Supreme. But it bears witness to the infinite mind,
the omnipotent will it cannot fitly represent. In the silence of the
tent of meeting, when the light of nature shines through the door
that opens to the sunrise, we realise that the inner mystery must
be in profound accord with the outer revelation--that He who makes
the light of the natural world must be in Himself the light of the
spiritual world; that He who maintains order in the great movements
and cycles of the material universe, maintains a like order in the
changes and evolutions of the immaterial creation.

Yet the light of the natural world shining thus into the sacred
chamber, while it aids the seeker after God in no small degree,
fails at a certain point. It is too hard and glaring for the hour
of most intimate communion. By night, as it were, when the world is
veiled and silent, when the soul is shut alone in earnest desire and
thought, then it is that the highest possibilities of intercourse
with the unseen life are realised. And then, as the seven-branched
candlestick with its lamps illuminated the Holy Place, a radiance
which belongs to the sanctuary of life must supply the soul's need.
On the curtained walls, on the altar, on the veil whose heavy folds
guard the most holy mysteries, this light must shine. Nature does not
reveal the life of the Ever-Living, the love of the All-Loving, the
will of the All-Holy. In the conscious life and love of the soul,
created anew after the plan and likeness of God in Christ,--here is
the light. The unseen God is the Father of our spirits. The lamps of
purified reason, Christ-born faith and love, holy aspiration, are
those which dispel the darkness on our side the veil. The Word and
the Spirit give the oil by which those lamps are fed.

Must we say that with the Father, Christ also, who once lived on
earth, is in the inner chamber which our gaze cannot penetrate?
Even so. A thick curtain is interposed between the earthly and the
heavenly. Yet while by the light which shines in his own soul the
seeker after God regards the outer chamber--its altar, its shewbread,
its walls, and canopy--his thought passes beyond the veil. The altar
is fashioned according to a pattern and used according to a law
which God has given. It points to prayer, thanksgiving, devotion,
that have their place in human life because facts exist out of which
they arise--the beneficence, the care, the claims of God. The table
of shewbread represents the spiritual provision made for the soul
which cannot live but by every word that cometh out of the mouth of
God. The continuity of the outer chamber with the inner suggests the
close union there is between the living soul and the living God--and
the veil itself, though it separates, is no jealous and impenetrable
wall of division. Every sound on this side can be heard within; and
the Voice from the mercy seat, declaring the will of the Father
through the enthroned Word, easily reaches the waiting worshipper
to guide, comfort, and instruct. By the light of the lamps kindled
in our spiritual nature the things of God are seen; and the lamps
themselves are witnesses to God. They burn and shine by laws He
has ordained, in virtue of powers that are not fortuitous nor of
the earth. The illumination they give on this side the veil proves
clearly that within it the Parent Light, glorious, never-fading,
shines--transcendent reason, pure and almighty will, unchanging
love--the life which animates the universe.

Again, the symbolism of the candlestick has an application suggested
by Rev. i. 20. Now, the outer chamber of the tabernacle in which the
lamps shine represents the whole world of human life. The temple
is vast; it is the temple of the universe. Still the veil exists;
it separates the life of men on earth from the life in heaven, with
God. Isaiah in his oracles of redemption spoke of a coming revolution
which should open the world to Divine light. "He will destroy in
this mountain the face of the covering that is cast over all people,
and the veil that is spread over all nations." And the light itself,
still as proceeding from a Hebrew centre, is described in the
second book of the Isaian prophecies: "For Zion's sake will I not
hold my peace, and for Jerusalem's sake I will not rest, until her
righteousness go forth as brightness and her salvation as a lamp that
burneth. And the nations shall see thy righteousness and all kings
thy glory." But the prediction was not fulfilled until the Hebrew
merged in the human and He came who, as the Son of Man, is the true
light which lighteth every man coming into the world.

Dark was the outer chamber of the great temple when the Light of life
first shone, and the darkness comprehended it not. When the Church
was organised, and the apostles of our Lord, bearing the gospel of
Divine grace, went through the lands, they addressed a world still
under the veil of which Isaiah spoke. But the spiritual enlightenment
of mankind proceeded; the lamps of the candlestick, set in their
places, showed the new altar, the new table of heavenly bread, a
feast spread for all nations, and made the ignorant and earthly
aware that they stood within a temple consecrated by the offering of
Christ. St. John saw in Asia, amid the gross darkness of its seven
great cities, seven lamp-stands with their lights, some increasing,
some waning in brightness. The sacred flame was carried from country
to country, and in every centre of population a lamp was kindled.
There was no seven-branched candelabrum merely, but one of a hundred,
of a thousand arms. And all drew their oil from the one sacred
source, cast more or less bravely the same Divine illumination on the
dark eye of earth.

True, the world had its philosophy and poetry, using, often with no
little power, the themes of natural religion. In the outer chamber
of the temple the light of nature gleamed on the altar, on the
shewbread, on the veil. But interpretation failed, faith in the
unseen was mixed with dreams, no real knowledge was gained of what
the folds of the curtain hid--the mercy-seat, the holy law that
called for pure worship and love of one Living and True God. And
then the darkness that fell when the Saviour hung on the cross, the
darkness of universal sin and condemnation, was made so deeply felt
that in the shadow of it the true light might be seen, and the lamp
of every church might glow, a beacon of Divine mercy shining across
the troubled life of man. And the world has responded, will respond,
with greater comprehension and joy, as the Gospel is proclaimed with
finer spirit, embodied with greater zeal in lives of faith and love.
Christ in the truth, Christ in the sacraments, Christ in the words
and deeds of those who compose His Church--this is the light. The
candlestick of every life, of every body of believers, should be as
of beaten gold, no base metal mixed with that which is precious. He
who fashions his character as a Christian is to have the Divine idea
before him and re-think it; those who build the Church are to seek
its purity, strength, and grace. But still the light must come from
God, not from man, the light that burned on the altar of the Divine
sacrifice and shines from the glorious personality of the risen Lord.


                            3. THE PASSOVER

                          NUMBERS ix. 1-14[4]

The day fixed by statute for the feast which commemorated the
deliverance from Egypt was the fourteenth of the first month--the year
beginning with the month of the exodus. Chap. ix. opens by reiterating
this statute, already recorded in Exod. xii. and Lev. xxiii., and
proceeds to narrate the observance of the Passover in the second year.
A supplementary provision follows which met the case of those excluded
from the feast through ceremonial uncleanness. In one passage it is
assumed that the statutes and ordinances of the celebration are already
known. The feast proper, ordered to be kept between the two evenings of
the fourteenth day, is, however, alone spoken of; there is no mention
of the week of unleavened bread (Exod. xii. 15; Lev. xxiii. 6), nor
of the holy convocations with which that week was to open and close.
It is almost impossible to avoid the conclusion that the Passover in
the wilderness was a simple family festival at which every head of a
household officiated in a priestly capacity. The supplementary Passover
of this chapter was, according to the rabbis, distinguished from the
great feast by the rites lasting only one day instead of seven, and
by other variations. There is, however, no trace of such a difference
between the one observance and the other. What was done by the
congregation on the fourteenth of Abib was apparently to be done at the
"Little Passover" of the following month.

On every male Israelite old enough to understand the meaning of the
Passover, the observance of it was imperative. Lest the supplementary
feast should be made an excuse for failure to keep the fourteenth
day of the first month, it is enacted (ix. 13) that he who wilfully
neglects shall be "cut off from his people." For strangers who
sojourn among the Israelites provision is made that if they wish
to keep the feast they may do so under the regulations applied to
the Hebrews; these, of course, including the indispensable rite of
circumcision, which had to precede any observance of a feast in
honour of God. Noticeable are the terms with which this statute
concludes: "Ye shall have one statute, both for the stranger and for
him that is born in the land." The settlement in Canaan is assumed.

Regarding the Passover in the wilderness, difficulties have been
raised on the ground that a sufficient number of lambs, males of
the first year, could scarcely have been provided, and that the
sacrificing of the lambs by Aaron and his two sons within the
prescribed time would have been impossible. The second point of
difficulty disappears if this Passover was, as we have seen reason
to believe, a family festival like that observed on the occasion
of the exodus. Again, the number of yearling male lambs required
would depend on the number who partook of the feast. Calculations
made on the basis that one lamb sufficed for about fifteen, and that
men alone ate the Passover, leave the matter in apparent doubt.
Some fifty thousand lambs would still be needed. Keeping by the
enumeration of the Israelites given in the muster-roll of Numbers,
some writers explain that the desert tribes might supply large
numbers of lambs, and that kids also were available. The difficulty,
however, remains, and it is one of those which point to the
conclusion that the numbers given have somehow been increased in the
transcription of the ancient records century after century.

The case of certain men who could not partake of the Passover in
the first month, because they were unclean through the dead, was
brought before Moses and Aaron. The men felt it to be a great loss
of privilege, especially as the march was about to begin, and they
might not have another opportunity of observing the feast. Who indeed
could tell whether in the first conflict it might not be his lot
to fall by the sword? "We are unclean by the _nephesh_ of a man,"
they said: "wherefore are we kept back, that we may not offer the
oblation of the Lord in its appointed season among the children of
Israel?" The result of the appeal was the new law providing that two
disabilities, and two only, should be acknowledged. The supplementary
Passover of the second month was appointed for those unclean by the
dead, and those on a journey who found themselves too far off to
reach in time the precincts of the sanctuary. Those unclean would be
in a month presumably free from defilement; those on a journey would
probably have returned. The concession is a note of the gracious
reasonableness that in many ways distinguished the Hebrew religion;
and the Passover observances of Jews at the present day are based on
the conviction that what is practicable is accepted by God, though
statute and form cannot be kept.

The question presents itself, why keeping of the Passover should be
necessary to covenant union with Jehovah. And the reply bears on
Christian duty with regard to the analogous sacrament of the Lord's
Supper, for it rests on the historical sanction and continuity of
faith. If God was to be trusted as a Saviour by the Hebrew, certain
facts in the nation's history had to be known, believed, and kept
in clear remembrance; otherwise no reality could be found in the
covenant. And under the new covenant the same holds good. The
historical fact of Christ's crucifixion must be kept in view, and
constantly revived by the Lord's Supper. In either case redemption is
the main idea presented by the commemorative ordinance. The Hebrew
festival is not to be held on the anniversary of the giving of the
law; it recalls the great deliverance connected with the death of
the first-born in Egypt. So the Christian festival points to the
deliverance of humanity through the death of Christ.

Remarkable is the congruity between the view of the law presented by
Paul and the fact that the great commemorative feast of Hebraism is
attached, not to the legislation of Sinai, but to the rescue from
Egyptian bondage. The law kept the Hebrew nation in ward (Gal. iii.
23); "it was added because of transgressions, till the seed should
come to whom the promise had been made" (Gal. iii. 19); it "came in
beside, that the trespass might abound" (Rom. v. 20). The Hebrews were
not required to commemorate that ordinance which laid on them a heavy
burden and was found, as time went on, to be "unto death" (Rom. vii.
10). And, in like manner, the feast of Christianity does not recall
the nativity of our Lord, nor that agony in the garden which showed
Him in the depths of human sorrow, but that triumphant act of His soul
which carried Him, and humanity with Him, through the shadow of death
into the free life of spiritual energy and peace. The Sacrament of
the Lord's Supper is the commemoration of a victory by which we are
enfranchised. Partaking of it in faith, we realise our rescue from the
Egypt of slavery and fear, our unity with Christ and with one another
as "an elect race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for
God's own possession." The wilderness journey lies before us still; but
in liberty we press on as the ransomed of the Lord.

Mr. Morley has said, not without reason, that "the modern argument in
favour of the supernatural origin of the Christian religion, drawn
from its suitableness to our needs and its Divine response to our
aspirations," is insufficient to prove it the absolute religion. "The
argument," he says, "can never carry us beyond the relativity of
religious truth."[5] Christians may not assume that "their aspirations
are the absolute measure of those of humanity in every stage." To
dispense with faith in the historical facts of the life of Christ, His
claims, and the significance of His cross, to leave these in the haze
of the past as doubtful, incapable of satisfactory proof, and to rest
all on the subjective experience which any one may reckon sufficient,
is to obliterate the covenant and destroy the unity of the Church.
Hence, as the Hebrews had their Passover, and the observance of it
gave them coherence as a people and as a religious body, so we have
the Supper. No local centre, indeed, is appointed at which alone our
symbolic feast can be observed. Wherever a few renew their covenant
with God in proclaiming the Lord's death till He come, there the souls
of the faithful are nourished and inspired through fellowship with Him
who brought spiritual life and liberty to our world.

FOOTNOTES:

[3] Ruskin, "Seven Lamps of Architecture."

[4] For chap. viii. 5-26 see p. 39.

[5] "Voltaire," by John Morley, ed. 1891, pp. 254, 255.




                                  VII

                       _THE CLOUD AND THE MARCH_


                          1. THE GUIDING CLOUD

                           NUMBERS ix. 15-23

The pillar of cloud, the ensign of Jehovah's royalty among the
Hebrews, and for us one of the most ancient symbols of His grace,
is first mentioned in the account of the departure from Egypt.
"Jehovah went before them by day in a pillar of cloud, to lead them
the way; and by night in a pillar of fire, to give them light." At
the passage of the Red Sea this murky cloud removed and came between
the host of Israel and their pursuers. In the morning watch "Jehovah
looked unto the host of the Egyptians through the pillar of fire
and of the cloud, and troubled the host of the Egyptians." On that
occasion it followed or represented "the angel of God." There is
nowhere any attempt to give a complete account of the symbol. We read
of its glory filling the inner shrine and even the holy place. At
other times it only hovers above the western end of the tabernacle,
marking the situation of the ark. Now and again it moves from that
position, and covers the door of the tent of meeting into which Moses
has entered. The targums use the term _Shechinah_ to indicate what
it was conceived to be--a luminous cloud, the visible manifestation
of the Divine presence; and Philo speaks of the fiery appearance of
the Deity shining forth from a cloud. But these are glosses on the
original descriptions and cannot be altogether harmonised. In one
passage only (Isa. iv. 5) do we find a reference which appears to
throw any light on the real nature of the symbol. Evidently recalling
it, the prophet says, "Jehovah will create over the whole habitation
of Mount Zion, and over her assemblies, a cloud and smoke by day,
and the shining of a flaming fire by night." To him the cloud is
one of smoke rising from a fire which at night sends up tongues of
flame; and the reflection of the bright fire on the overhanging cloud
resembles a canopy of glory.

Ewald's view is that the smoke of the altar which went up in a thick
column, visible at a great distance by day, ruddy with flame by
night, was the origin of the conception. There are various objections
to this theory, which the author of it himself finds difficult to
reconcile with many of the statements. At the same time the pillar
of cloud does not need to be thought of as in any respect a more
Divine symbol than others which were associated with the tabernacle.
Certainly the ark of the covenant which Bezaleel made according to
the instructions of Moses was, far beyond anything else, the sacred
centre around which the whole of the worship gathered, the mysterious
emblem of Jehovah's character, the guarantee of His presence with
Israel. It was from the space above the mercy-seat, as we have seen,
that the Voice proceeded, not from the pillar of cloud. The sanctity
of the ark was so great that it was never exposed to the view of the
people, nor even of the Levites who were set apart to carry it. The
cloud, on the other hand, was seen by all, and had its principal
function in showing where the ark was in the camp or on the march.

Now assuming, in harmony with the reference in Isaiah, that the cloud
was one of smoke, some may be disposed to think that, like the ark of
the covenant, the holiest symbol of all, this was produced by human
intervention, yet in a way not incompatible with its sacredness,
its mystery, and value as a sign of Jehovah's presence. Where Moses
was as leader, lawgiver, prophet, mediator, there God was for this
people: what Moses did in the spirit of Divine zeal and wisdom was
done for Israel by God. Through his inspiration the ritual and its
elaborate symbolism had their origin. And is it not possible that after
the manner of the emblem of Jehovah which appeared in the desert of
Horeb the fire and cloud were now realised? While some may adopt this
explanation, others again will steadily believe that the appearance and
movements of the cloud were quite apart from human device or agency.

Scarcely any difficulty greater than that connected with the pillar of
cloud presents itself to thoughtful modern readers of the Pentateuch.
The traditional view, apparently involved in the narrative, is that
in this cloud and in this alone Jehovah revealed Himself in the
interval between His appearance to Jacob and, long afterwards, to
Joshua in angelic form. Many will maintain that unless the cloud was
of supernatural origin the whole relation of the Israelites to their
Divine King must fall into shadow. Was not this one of the miracles
which made Hebrew history different in kind from that of every other
nation? Is it not one of the revelations of the Unseen God on which we
must build if we are to have sure faith in the Old Testament economy,
and indeed in Christianity itself, as of superhuman revelation? If
we are not to interpret literally what is said in Exodus--"The Lord
went before them by day in a pillar of cloud, to lead them the way;
and by night in a pillar of fire, to give them light"--shall we not
practically abandon the whole Divine element in the history of Israel's
deliverance and education? Thus the difficulty stands.

Yet, it may be argued, since we have now the revelation of God in the
human life of Christ and the gospel of salvation through the ministry
of men, what need is there to doubt that, for the guidance of a
people from place to place in the wilderness, the wisdom, foresight,
and faithfulness of an inspired man were the appointed means? It is
admitted that in many things Moses acted for Jehovah, that his mind
received in idea, and his intellectual skill expressed in verbal
form, the laws and statutes which were to maintain Israel's relation
to God as a covenant people. We follow our Lord Himself in saying
that Moses gave Israel the law. But the legislation of the Decalogue
was far more of the nature of a disclosure of God, and had far higher
aims and issues than could be involved in the guidance through the
desert. The law was for the spiritual nature of the Hebrews. It
brought them into relation with God as just, pure, true, the sole
source of moral life and progress. As the nucleus of the covenant it
was symbolic in a sense that fire could never be. It may be asked,
then, What need is there to doubt that Moses had his part in this
symbol which has so long appeared, more than the other, important as
a nexus between heaven and earth? To interpret the words "whenever
the cloud was taken up from over the tent," as meaning that it was
self-moved, would imply that Moses, though he is called the leader,
did not lead but was led like the rest. And this would reduce his
office to a point to which no prophet's work is reduced throughout
the entire Old Testament. Was he unable to direct the march from
Moseroth to Bene-jaakan? An inspired man, on whom, according to the
will of God, lay the whole responsibility for Israel's national
development, was he unable to determine when the pastures in one
region were exhausted and others had to be sought? Then indeed the
mediation of his genius would be so minimised that our whole idea
of him must be changed. Especially would we have to set aside that
prediction applied to Christ: "A prophet shall the Lord raise up unto
you, from your brethren, like unto me."

And further, it may be said, the pillar of cloud and fire retains
the whole of its value as a symbol when the intervention of Moses is
admitted; and this may be proved by the analogy of other emblems.
Almost parallel to the cloud, for instance, is the serpent of brass,
which became a sign of Jehovah's healing power, and conveyed new
life to those who looked towards it in faith. The fact that this
rude image of a serpent was made by human hands did not in the least
impair its value as an instrument of deliverance, and the efficacy of
that particular symbol was selected by Christ as an illustration of
His own redeeming energy which was to be gained through the cross:
"As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the
Son of man be lifted up." For certain occasions and needs of a people
one symbol avails; in other circumstances there must be other signs.
The smoke-cloud was not enough when the serpents terrified the host.
Elijah in this same desert saw a flashing fire; but Jehovah was not
in the fire. Natural symbols, however impressive, do not avail by
themselves; and when God by His prophet says, "This cloud, this fire,
symbolise My presence," and the people believe, is it not sufficient?
The Divine Friend is assuredly there. The symbol is not God; it
represents a fact, impresses a fact which altogether apart from the
symbol would still hold good.

In the course of the passage (ix. 17-23) the manner of the guidance
given by means of the cloud is carefully detailed. Sometimes the
tribes remained encamped for many days, sometimes only from evening
to morning. "Whether it were two days, or a month, or a year, that
the cloud tarried on the tabernacle, abiding thereon, the children of
Israel remained encamped, and journeyed not: but when it was taken up,
they journeyed." Here is emphasised the authority which lay in "the
commandment of the Lord _by the hand of Moses_" (ver. 23). For Israel,
as for every nation that is not lost in the desert of the centuries,
and every society that is not on the way to confusion, there must be
wise guidance and cordial submission thereto. We are not, however,
saved now, as the Israelites were, by a great movement of society,
or even of the Church. Individually we must see the signal of the
Divine will, and march where it points the way. And in a sense there
are no rests of many days. Each morning the cloud moves forward; each
morning we must strike our tents. Our march is in the way of thought,
of moral and spiritual progress; and if we live in any real sense, we
shall press on along that way. The indication of duty, the guidance
in thought which we are to follow, impose a Divine obligation none
the less that they are communicated through the instrumentality of
men. For every group of travellers, associated in worship, duty,
and aim, there is some spiritual authority pointing the direction
to be followed. As individuals we have our separate calling, our
responsibility to Christ, with which nothing is to interfere. But the
unity of Christians in the faith and work of the kingdom of God must be
kept; and for this one like Moses is needed, or at least a consensus of
judgment, a clear expression of the corporate wisdom. The standard must
be carried forward, and where it moves on to quiet pasturage or grim
conflict the faithful are to advance.

      "Ye armies of the living God,
         His sacramental host,
       Where hallowed footsteps never trod
         Take your appointed post.

      "Follow the cross; the ark of peace
         Accompany your path."

Thus, we may say, the general direction runs; and in the changing
circumstances of the Church submission is given by its members to
those who hold command at once from the Lord Himself and from His
people. But in the details of duty each must follow the guidance of a
cloud that marks his own path to his own eye.


                         2. THE SILVER TRUMPETS

                            NUMBERS x. 1-10

An air of antique simplicity is felt in the legislation regarding
the two trumpets of silver, yet we are not in any way hindered from
connecting the statute with the idea of claiming human art for
Divine service. Instrumental music was of course rudimentary in the
wilderness; but, such as it was, Jehovah was to control the use
of it through the priests; and the developed idea is found in the
account of the dedication of the temple of Solomon, as recorded in
2 Chron. v., where we are told that besides the Levites, who had
cymbals, psalteries, and harps, a hundred and twenty priests sounding
with trumpets took part in the music.

There is no need to question the early use of these instruments;
nevertheless, the legislation in our passage assumes the settlement
in Canaan, and times when defensive war became necessary and the
observance of the sacred feasts fell into a fixed order. The statute
is instructive as to the meaning of the formula "The Lord spake unto
Moses," and not less as to the gradual accretion of particulars
around an ancient nucleus. We cannot set aside the sincere record,
though it may seem to make Jehovah speak on matters of small
importance. But interpretation must spring from a right understanding
of the purpose suggested to the mind of Moses. Uses found for the
trumpets in the course of years are simply extensions of the germinal
idea of reserving for sacred use those instruments and the art
they represented. It was well that whatever fear or exhilaration
the sounding of them caused should be controlled by those who were
responsible to God for the moral inspiration of the people.

According to the statute, the two trumpets, which were of very simple
make, and capable of only a few notes, had their use first in calling
assemblies. A long peal blown on one trumpet summoned the princes
who were the heads of the thousands of Israel: a long peal on both
trumpets called the whole congregation to the "tent of meeting."
There were occasions when these assemblies were required not for
deliberation, but to hear in detail the instructions and orders
of the leader. At other times the convocations were for prayer or
thanksgiving; or, again, the people had to hear solemn reproofs and
sentences of punishment. We may imagine that with varying sound,
joyful or mournful, the trumpets were made to convey some indication
of the purpose for which the assembly was called.

A sacred obligation lay on the Israelites to obey the summons, whether
for joy or sorrow. They heard in the trumpet-blast the very voice of
God. And upon us, bound to His service by a more solemn and gracious
covenant, rests an obligation even more commanding. The unity of the
tribes of Israel, and their fellowship in the obedience and worship
of Jehovah, could never be of half so much importance as the unity of
Christians in declaring their faith and fulfilling their vocation. To
come together at the call of recurring opportunity, that we may confess
Christ and hear His word anew, is essential to our spiritual life.
Those who hear the call should know its urgency and promptly respond,
lest in the midst of the holiest light there come to be a shadow of
deep darkness, the midnight gloom of paganism and death.

Again, in the wilderness, the trumpets gave the signal for striking
the camp and setting out on a new stage of the journey. Blown sharply
by way of alarm, the peals conveyed now to one, now to another part of
the host the order to advance. The movement of the pillar of cloud, we
may assume, could not be seen everywhere, and this was another means of
direction, not only of a general kind, but with some detail.

Taking vv. 5, 6, along with the passage beginning at ver. 14, we have
an ideal picture of the order of movement. One peal, sharply rung out
from the trumpets, would signify that the eastern camp, embracing
the tribes of Judah, Issachar, and Zebulun, should advance. Then the
tabernacle was to be taken down, and the Levites of the families of
Gershon and Merari were to set forward with the various parts of
the tent and its enclosure. Next two alarms gave the signal to the
southern camp, that of Reuben, Simeon, and Gad. The Levites of the
family of Kohath followed, bearing the ark, the altar of incense,
the great altar, the table of shewbread, and other furniture of the
sanctuary. The third and fourth camps, of which Ephraim and Benjamin
were the heads, brought up the rear. In these movements the trumpets
would be of much use. But it is quite clear that the real difficulty
was not to set the divisions in motion each at a fit time. The camps
were not composed only of men under military discipline. The women
and children, the old and feeble, had to be cared for. The flocks and
herds also had to be kept in hand. We cannot suppose that there was
any orderly procession; rather was each camp a straggling multitude,
with its own delays and interruptions.

And so it is in the case of every social and religious movement.
Clear enough may be the command to advance, the trumpet of
Providence, the clarion of the Gospel. But men and women are
undisciplined in obedience and faith. They have many burdens of a
personal kind to bear, many private differences and quarrels. How
very seldom can the great Leader find prompt response to His will,
though the terms of it are distinctly conveyed and the demand is
urgent! God makes a plan for us, opens our way, shows us our need,
proclaims the fit hours; but our unbelief and fear and incapacity
impede the march. Nevertheless, through the grace of His providence,
as Israel slowly made its way across the desert and reached Canaan at
last, the Church moves, and will continue to move, towards the holy
future, the millennial age.

Turning now to the uses of the silver trumpets after the settlement
in Canaan, there is first that connected with war. The people
are presumed to be living peaceably in their country; but some
neighbouring power has attacked them. The sounding of the trumpets
then is to be of the nature of a prayer to the Divine Protector of
the nation. The cry of the dependent tribes will be gathered up, as
it were, into the shrill blast which carries the alarm to the throne
of the Lord of Hosts. To the army and to the nation assurance is
given that the old promise of Jehovah's favour remains in force, and
that the promise, claimed by the priests according to the covenant,
will be fulfilled. And this will make the trumpet-blast exhilarating,
a presage of victory. The claim and hope of the nation rise
heavenward. The men of war stand together in faith, and put to flight
the armies of the aliens.

For the battles we have to fight, the conflicts of faith with
unbelief, and righteousness with aggressive iniquity, an inspiration
is needed like that conveyed to Israel in the peal of the silver
trumpets. Have we any means of assurance resembling that which was
to animate the Hebrews when the enemy came upon them? Even the need
is often unrecognised. Many take for granted that religion is safe,
that the truth requires no valour of theirs in maintaining it, and
the Gospel of Christ no spirited defence. The trumpet is not heard
because the duty to which all Christians are called as helpers of the
Gospel is never considered. Messages are accepted as oracles of God
only when they tell the trustful of safety and confirm them in easy
enjoyment of spiritual privilege and hope. One kind of trumpet peal
alone is liked--that which sounds an alarm to the unconverted, and
bids them prepare for the coming of the Judge.

But there are for all Christians frequent calls to a service in
which they need the courage of faith and every hope the covenant
can give. At the present time no greater mistake is possible than
to sit in comfort under the shadow of ancient forms and creeds.
We cannot realise the value of the promise given to genuine faith
unless we abandon the crumbling walls and meet our assailants in
the open ground, where we can see them face to face, and know the
spirit with which they fight, the ensigns of their war. There is no
brave thinking now in those old shelters, no room to use the armour
of light. Christianity is one of the free forces of human life. Its
true inspiration is found only when those who stand by it are bent on
securing and extending the liberties of men. The trumpets that lift
to heaven the prayers of the faithful and fill the soldiers of the
Cross with the hope of victory can never be in the hands of those who
claim exclusive spiritual authority, nor will they ever again sound
the old Hebrew note. They inspire those who are generous, who feel
that the more they give the more they are blessed, who would impart
to others their own life that God's love to the world may be known.
They call us not to defend our own privileges, but to keep the way
of salvation open to all, to prevent the Pharisee and the unbeliever
from closing against men the door of heavenly grace.

Once more; in the days of gladness and solemn feasting the trumpets
were to be blown over the burnt offerings and peace offerings. The
joy of the Passover, the hope of the new-moon festival, especially
in the beginning of the seventh month, were to be sent up to heaven
with the sound of these instruments, not as if Jehovah had forgotten
His people and His covenant, but for the assurance and comfort of the
worshippers. He was a Friend before whom they could rejoice, a King
whose forgiveness was abundant, who showed mercy unto the thousands
who loved Him and kept His commandments. The music, loud, and clear,
and bold, was to carry to all who heard it the conviction that God
had been sought in the way of His holy law, and would cause blessing
to descend upon Israel.

We claim with gentler sounds, those of lowly prayer and pleading,
the help of the Most High. Even in the secret chamber when the door
is shut we can address our Father, knowing that our claim will be
answered for the sake of Christ. Yet there are times when the loud
and clear hallelujahs, borne heavenward by human voices and pealing
organ, seem alone to express our exultation. Then the instruments and
methods of modern art may be said to bind the old Hebrew times, the
ancient faith of the wilderness and of Zion, to our own. We carry out
ideas that lie at the heart of the race; we realise that human skill,
human discovery, find their highest use and delight when they make
beautiful and inspiring the service of God.


                         3. THE ORDER OF MARCH

                            NUMBERS x. 11-28

The difficulties connected with the order of march prescribed in
this passage have been often and fully rehearsed. According to the
enumeration given in chap. ii., the van of the host formed by the
division of Judah, men, women, and children, must have reached some
six hundred thousand at least. The second division, headed by Reuben,
would number five hundred thousand. The Levites, with their wives
and children, according to the same computation would be altogether
about seventy thousand. Then came the two remaining camps, about nine
hundred thousand souls. At the first signal six hundred thousand
would have to get into marching order and move off across the desert.
There could be no absolute separation of the fighting men from their
families and flocks, and even if there were no narrow passes to
confine the vast multitude, it would occupy miles of road. We must
not put a day's journey at more than ten miles. The foremost groups
would therefore have reached the camping ground, let us say, when
the last ranks of the second division were only beginning to move;
and the rear would still be on its way when night had long fallen
upon the desert. Whatever obstacles were removed for the Israelites,
the actual distance to be traversed could not be made less; and the
journey is always represented as a stern and serious discipline.
When we take into account the innumerable hindrances which so vast
a company would certainly have to contend with, it seems impossible
that the order of march as detailed in this passage could have been
followed for two days together.

Suppose we receive the explanation that the numbers have been
accidentally increased in the transcription of records. This would
relieve the narrative, not only here but at many points, of a burden
it can hardly carry. And we remember that according to the Book of
Nehemiah less than fifty thousand Jews, returning from Babylon at the
close of the captivity, reconstructed the nation, so that it soon
showed considerable spirit and energy. If the numbers as they stand
in the Pentateuch were reduced, divided by ten, as some propose, the
desert journey would appear less of a mere marvel. It would remain
one of the most striking and important migrations known to history;
it would lose none of its religious significance. No religious
idea is affected by the numbers who receive it; nor do the great
purposes of God depend on multitudes for their fulfilment. We can
view with composure the criticism which touches the record on its
numerical side, because we know the prophetic work of Moses and the
providential education of Israel to be incontrovertible facts.

It has been suggested that the order of march as described did not
continue to be kept throughout the whole of the wilderness journey;
that in point of fact it may have been followed only so far as Kadesh.
Whether this was so or not it must be taken into account that for the
greater part of the forty years there was absolutely no travelling;
the tribes were settled in the wilderness of Paran. The proofs are
incidental but conclusive. From a central point, where the cloud rested
(Numb. x. 12), the people spread themselves, we may suppose, in various
directions, seeking grass for their cattle, and living for the most
part like the other inhabitants of the district. Even if there were but
three years of travelling in all, before and after the sojourn in the
neighbourhood of Kadesh, there would be ample time for the movement
from one place to another mentioned in the records.




                                  VIII

                           _HOBAB THE KENITE_

                            NUMBERS x. 29-36


The Kenites, an Arab tribe belonging to the region of Midian, and
sometimes called Midianites, sometimes Amalekites, were already in
close and friendly relation with Israel. Moses, when he went first
to Midian, had married a daughter of their chief Jethro, and, as we
learn from Exod. xviii., this patriarch, with his daughter Zipporah
and the two sons she had borne to Moses, came to the camp of Israel
at the mount of God. The meeting was an occasion of great rejoicing;
and Jethro, as priest of his tribe, having congratulated the Hebrews
on the deliverance Jehovah had wrought for them, "took a burnt
offering and sacrifices for God," and was joined by Moses, Aaron, and
all the elders of Israel in the sacrificial feast. A union was thus
established between Kenites and Israelites of the most solemn and
binding kind. The peoples were sworn to continual friendship.

While Jethro remained in the camp his counsel was given in regard to
the manner of administering justice. In accordance with it rulers
of thousands, hundreds, fifties, and tens were chosen, "able men,
such as feared God, men of truth, hating covetousness"; and to them
matters of minor importance were referred for judgment, the hard
causes only being brought before Moses. The sagacity of one long
experienced in the details of government came in to supplement the
intellectual power and the inspiration of the Hebrew leader.

It does not appear that any attempt was made to attach Jethro and the
whole of his tribe to the fortunes of Israel. The small company of the
Kenites could travel far more swiftly than a great host, and, if they
desired, could easily overtake the march. Moses, we are told, let his
father-in-law depart, and he went to his own place. But now that the
long stay of the Israelites at Sinai is over and they are about to
advance to Canaan, the visit of a portion of the Kenite tribe is made
the occasion of an appeal to their leader to cast in his lot with the
people of God. There is some confusion in regard to the relationship of
Hobab with Jethro or Raguel. Whether Hobab was a son or grandson of the
chief cannot be made out. The word translated father-in-law (Numb. x.
29), means a relation by marriage. Whatever was the tie between Hobab
and Moses, it was at all events so close, and the Kenite had so much
sympathy with Israel, that it was natural to make the appeal to him:
"Come thou with us, and we will do thee good." Himself assured of the
result of the enterprise, anticipating with enthusiasm the high destiny
of the tribes of Israel, Moses endeavours to persuade these children of
the desert to take the way to Canaan.

There was a fascination in the movement of that people who, rescued
from bondage by their Heavenly Friend, were on their journey to the
land of His promise. This fascination Hobab and his followers appear
to have felt; and Moses counted upon it. The Kenites, used to the
wandering life, accustomed to strike their tents any day as occasion
required, no doubt recoiled from the thought of settling even in a
fertile country, still more from dwelling in any walled town. But the
south of Canaan was practically a wilderness, and there, keeping to a
great extent their ancestral habits, they might have had the liberty
they loved, yet kept in touch with their friends of Israel. Some
aversion from the Hebrews, who still bore certain marks of slavery,
would have to be overcome. Yet, with the bond already established,
there needed only some understanding of the law of Jehovah, and some
hope in His promise to bring the company of Hobab to decision.

And Moses had right in saying, "Come with us, and we will do thee
good; for Jehovah hath spoken good concerning Israel." The outlook
to a future was something which the Kenites as a people had not,
never could have in their desultory life. Unprogressive, out of
the way of the great movements of humanity, gaining nothing as
generations went by, but simply reproducing the habits and treasuring
the beliefs of their fathers, the Arab tribe might maintain itself,
might occasionally strike for righteousness in some conflict, but
otherwise had no prospect, could have no enthusiasm. They would live
their hard life, they would enjoy freedom, they would die--such would
be their history. Compared with that poor outlook, how good it would
be to share the noble task of establishing on the soil of Canaan a
nation devoted to truth and righteousness, in league with the living
God, destined to extend His kingdom and make His faith the means
of blessing to all. It was the great opportunity of these nomads.
As yet, indeed, there was no courage of religion, no brightness
of enthusiasm among the Israelites. But there was the ark of the
covenant, there were the sacrifices, the law; and Jehovah Himself,
always present with His people, was revealing His will and His glory
by oracle, by discipline and deliverance.

Now these Kenites may be taken as representing a class, in the
present day to a certain extent attracted, even fascinated, by the
Church, who standing irresolute are appealed to in terms like those
addressed by Moses to Hobab. They feel a certain charm, for in the
wide organisation and vast activity of the Christian Church, quite
apart from the creed on which it is based, there are signs of vigour
and purpose which contrast favourably with endeavours directed to
mere material gain. In idea and in much of its effort the Church is
splendidly humane, and it provides interests, enjoyments, both of an
intellectual and artistic kind, in which all can share. Not so much
its universality nor its mission of converting the world, nor its
spiritual worship, but rather the social advantages and the culture
it offers draw towards it those minds and lives. And to them it
extends, too often without avail, the invitation to join its march.

Is it asked why many, partly fascinated, remain proof against its
appeals? why an increasing number prefer, like Hobab, the liberty of
the desert, their own unattached, desultory, hopeless way of life?
The answer must partly be that, as it is, the Church does not fully
commend itself by its temper, its enthusiasm, its sincerity and
Christianity. It attracts but is unable to command, because with all
its culture of art it does not appear beautiful, with all its claims
of spirituality it is not unworldly; because, professing to exist for
the redemption of society, its methods and standards are too often
human rather than Divine. It is not that the outsider shrinks from the
religiousness of the Church as overdone; rather does he detect a lack
of that very quality. He could believe in the Divine calling and join
the enterprise of the Church if he saw it journeying steadily towards
a better country, that is a heavenly. Its earnestness would then
command him; faith would compel faith. But social status and temporal
aims are not subordinated by the members of the Church, nor even by
its leaders. And whatever is done in the way of providing attractions
for the pleasure-loving, and schemes of a social kind, these, so far
from gaining the undecided, rather make them less disposed to believe.
More exciting enjoyments can be found elsewhere. The Church offering
pleasures and social reconstruction is attempting to catch those
outside by what, from their point of view, must appear to be chaff.

It is a question which every body of Christians has need to ask
itself--Can we honestly say to those without, Come with us, and we
will do you good? In order that there may be certainty on this point,
should not every member of the Church be able to testify that the
faith he has gives joy and peace, that his fellowship with God is
making life pure and strong and free? Should there not be a clear
movement of the whole body, year by year, towards finer spirituality,
broader and more generous love? The gates of membership are in some
cases opened to such only as make very clear and ample profession.
It does not, however, appear that those already within have always
the Christian spirit corresponding to that high profession. And
yet as Moses could invite Hobab and his company without misgiving
because Jehovah was the Friend and Guide of Israel and had spoken
good concerning her, so because Christ is the Head of the Church,
and Captain of her salvation, those outside may well be urged to
join her fellowship. If all depended on the earnestness of our faith
and the steadfastness of our virtue we should not dare to invite
others to join the march. But it is with Christ we ask them to unite.
Imperfect in many ways, the Church is His, exists to show His death,
to proclaim His Gospel and extend His power. In the whole range of
human knowledge and experience there is but one life that is free,
pure, hopeful, energetic in every noble sense, and at the same time
calm. In the whole range of human existence there is but one region
in which the mind and the soul find satisfaction and enlargement, in
which men of all sorts and conditions find true harmony. That life
and that region of existence are revealed by Christ; into them He
only is the Way. The Church, maintaining this, demonstrating this, is
to invite all who stand aloof. They who join Christ and follow Him
will come to a good land, a heavenly heritage.

The first invitation given to Hobab was set aside. "Nay," he said,
"I will not go; but I will depart to my own land and to my kindred."
The old ties of country and people were strong for him. The true
Arab loves his country passionately. The desert is his home, the
mountains are his friends. His hard life is a life of liberty. He
is strongly attached to his tribe, which has its own traditions,
its own glories. There have been feuds, the memory of which must be
cherished. There are heirlooms that give dignity to those who possess
them. The people of the clan are brothers and sisters. Very little
of the commercial mingles with the life of the desert; so perhaps
family feeling has the more power. These influences Hobab felt, and
this besides deterred him, that if he joined the Israelites he would
be under the command of Moses. Hobab was prospective head of his
tribe, already in partial authority at least. To obey the word of
command instead of giving it was a thing he could not brook. No doubt
the leader of Israel had proved himself brave, resolute, wise. He was
a man of ardent soul and fitted for royal power. But Hobab preferred
the chieftainship of his own small clan to service under Moses; and,
brought to the point of deciding, he would not agree.

Freedom, habit, the hopes that have become part of life--these in
like manner interpose between many and a call which is known to be
from God. There is restraint within the circle of faith; old ideas,
traditional conceptions of life, and many personal ambitions have to
be relinquished by those who enter it. Accustomed to that Midian where
every man does according to the bent of his own will, where life is
hard but uncontrolled, where all they have learned to care for and
desire may be found, many are unwilling to choose the way of religion,
subjection to the law of Christ, the life of spiritual conflict and
trial, however much may be gained at once and in the eternal future.
Yet the liberty of their Midian is illusory. It is simply freedom to
spend strength in vain, to roam from place to place where all alike
are barren, to climb mountains lightning-riven, swept by interminable
storms. And the true liberty is with Christ, who opens the prospect
of the soul, and redeems the life from evil, vanity, and fear. The
heavenward march appears to involve privation and conflict, which
men do not care to face. But is the worldly life free from enemies,
hardships, disappointments? The choice is, for many, between a bare
life over which death triumphs, and a life moving on over obstacles,
through tribulations, to victory and glory. The attractions of land
and people, set against those of Christian hope, have no claim. "Every
one," says the Lord, "that hath left houses, or brethren, or sisters,
or father, or mother, or children, or lands, for My sake, shall receive
a hundredfold, and shall inherit eternal life."

Passing on, the narrative informs us that Moses used another plea:
"Leave us not, I pray thee; forasmuch as thou knowest how we are to
encamp in the wilderness, and thou shalt be to us instead of eyes."
Hobab did not respond to the promise of advantage to himself; he might
be moved by the hope of being useful. Knowing that he had to deal with
a man who was proud, and in his way magnanimous, Moses wisely used this
appeal. And he used it frankly, without pretence. Hobab might do real
and valuable service to the tribes on their march to Canaan. Accustomed
to the desert, over which he had often travelled, acquainted with the
best methods of disposing a camp in any given position, with the quick
eye and habit of observation which the Arab life gives, Hobab would be
the very adjutant to whom Moses might commit many details. If he joins
the tribes on this footing it will be without pretence. He professes no
greater faith either in Israel's destiny or in Jehovah's sole Godhead
than he really feels. Wishing Israel well, interested in the great
experiment, yet not bound up in it, he may give his counsel and service
heartily so far as they avail.

We are here introduced to another phase of the relation between
the Church and those who do not altogether accept its creed, or
acknowledge its mission to be supernatural, Divine. Confessing
unwillingness to receive the Christian system as a whole, perhaps
openly expressing doubts of the miraculous, for example, many in
our day have still so much sympathy with the ethics and culture of
Christianity that they would willingly associate themselves with the
Church, and render it all the service in their power. Their tastes
have led them to subjects of study and modes of self-development
not in the proper sense religious. Some are scientific, some have
literary talent, some artistic, some financial. The question may
be, whether the Church should invite these to join her ranks in
any capacity, whether room may be made for them, tasks assigned to
them. On the one hand, would it be dangerous to Christian faith? on
the other hand, would it involve them in self-deception? Let it be
assumed that they are men of honour and integrity, men who aim at a
high moral standard and have some belief in the spiritual dignity man
may attain. On this footing may their help be sought and cordially
accepted by the Church?

We cannot say that the example of Moses should be taken as a rule
for Christians. It was one thing to invite the co-operation with
Israel for a certain specified purpose of an Arab chief who differed
somewhat in respect of faith; it would be quite another thing to
invite one whose faith, if he has any, is only a vague theism, to
give his support to Christianity. Yet the cases are so far parallel
that the one illustrates the other. And one point appears to be this,
that the Church may show itself at least as sympathetic as Israel. Is
there but a single note of unison between a soul and Christianity?
Let that be recognised, struck again and again till it is clearly
heard. Our Lord rewarded the faith of a Syrophœnician woman, of
a Roman centurion. His religion cannot be injured by generosity.
Attachment to Himself personally, disposition to hear His words
and accept His morality, should be hailed as the possible dawn of
faith, not frowned upon as a splendid sin. Every one who helps sound
knowledge helps the Church. The enthusiast for true liberty has a
point of contact with Him whose truth gives freedom. The Church
is a spiritual city with gates that stand wide open day and night
towards every region and condition of human life, towards the north
and south, the east and west. If the wealthy are disposed to help,
let them bring their treasures; if the learned devote themselves
reverently and patiently to her literature, let their toil be
acknowledged. Science has a tribute that should be highly valued, for
it is gathered from the works of God; and art of every kind--of the
poet, the musician, the sculptor, the painter--may assist the cause
of Divine religion. The powers men have are given by Him who claims
all as His own. The vision of Isaiah in which he saw Tarshish and the
isles, Sheba and Seba offering gifts to the temple of God, did not
assume that the tribute was in all cases that of covenant love. And
the Church of Christ has broader human sympathy and better right to
the service of the world than Isaiah knew. For the Church's good, and
for the good of those who may be willing in any way to aid her work
and development, all gifts should be gladly received, and those who
stand hesitating should be invited to serve.

But the analogy of the invitation to Hobab involves another point
which must always be kept in view. It is this, that the Church is
not to slacken her march not divert her march in any degree because
men not fully in sympathy with her join the company and contribute
their service. The Kenite may cast in his lot with the Israelites
and aid them with his experience. But Moses will not cease to lead
the tribes towards Canaan, will not delay their progress a single
day for Hobab's sake. Nor will he less earnestly claim sole Godhead
for Jehovah, and insist that every sacrifice shall be made to Him
and every life kept holy in His way, for His service. Perhaps the
Kenite faith differed little in its elements from that which the
Israelites inherited. It may have been monotheistic; and we know that
part of the worship was by way of sacrifice not unlike that appointed
by the Mosaic law. But it had neither the wide ethical basis nor
the spiritual aim and intensity which Moses had been the means of
imparting to Israel's religion. And from the ideas revealed to him
and embodied in the moral and ceremonial law he could not for the
sake of Hobab resile in the least. There should be no adjustment of
creed or ritual to meet the views of the new ally. Onward to Canaan,
onward also along the lines of religious duty and development, the
tribes would hold their way as before.

In modern alliances with the Church a danger is involved,
sufficiently apparent to all who regard the state of religion.
History is full of instances in which, to one company of helpers
and another, too much has been conceded; and the march of spiritual
Christianity is still greatly impeded by the same thing. Money
contributed, by whomsoever, is held to give the donors a right to
take their place in councils of the Church, or at least to sway
decision now in one direction, now in another. Prestige is offered
with the tacit understanding that it shall be repaid with deference.
The artist uses his skill, but not in subordination to the ideas of
spiritual religion. He assumes the right to give them his own colour,
and may even, while professing to serve Christianity, sensualise
its teaching. Scholarship offers help, but is not content to submit
to Christ. Having been allowed to join itself with the Church, it
proceeds, not infrequently, to play the traitor's part, assailing
the faith it was invoked to serve. Those who care more for pleasure
than for religion may within a certain range find gratification in
Christian worship; they are apt to claim more and still more of the
element that meets their taste. And those who are bent on social
reconstruction would often, without any thought of doing wrong,
divert the Church entirely from its spiritual mission. When all these
influences are taken into account, it will be seen that Christianity
has to go its way amid perils. It must not be unsympathetic. But
those to whom its camp is opened, instead of helping the advance, may
neutralise the whole enterprise.

Every Church has great need at present to consider whether that clear
spiritual aim which ought to be the constant guide is not forgotten,
at least occasionally, for the sake of this or that alliance supposed
to be advantageous. It is difficult to find the mean, difficult to
say who serve the Church, who hinder its success. More difficult
still is it to distinguish those who are heartily with Christianity
from those who are only so in appearance, having some nostrum of
their own to promote. Hobab may decide to go with Israel; but the
invitation he accepts, perhaps with an air of superiority, of one
conferring a favour, is really extended to him for his good, for the
saving of his life. Let there be no blowing of the silver trumpets
to announce that a prince of the Kenites henceforth journeys with
Israel; they were not made for that! Let there be no flaunting of
a gay ensign over his tent. We shall find that a day comes when
the men who stand by true religion have--perhaps through Kenite
influence--the whole congregation to face. So it is in Churches.
On the other hand, Pharisaism is a great danger, equally tending
to destroy the value of religion; and Providence ever mingles the
elements that enter into the counsels of Christianity, challenging
the highest wisdom, courage, and charity of the faithful.

       *       *       *       *       *

The closing verses of chap. x. (33-6), belonging, like the passage just
considered, to the prophetic narrative, affirm that the ark was borne
from Sinai three days' journey before the host to find a halting-place.
The reconciliation between this statement and the order which places
the ark in the centre of the march, may be that the ideal plan was
at the outset not observed, for some sufficient reason. The absolute
sincerity of the compilers of the Book of Numbers is shown in their
placing almost side by side the two statements without any attempt to
harmonise. Both were found in the ancient documents, and both were set
down in good faith. The scribes into whose hands the old records came
did not assume the _rôle_ of critics.

At the beginning of every march Moses is reported to have used the
chant: "Rise up, O Jehovah, and let Thine enemies be scattered; and
let them that hate Thee flee before Thee." When the ark rested he
said: "Return, O Jehovah, unto the ten thousands of the thousands
of Israel." The former is the opening strain of Psalm lxviii., and
its magnificent strophes move towards the idea of that rest which
Israel finds in the protection of her God. Part of the ode returns
upon the desert journey, adding some features and incidents omitted
in the narrations of the Pentateuch--such as the plentiful rain
which refreshed the weary tribes, the publishing by women of some
Divine oracle. But on the whole the psalm agrees with the history,
making Sinai the scene of the great revelation of God, and indicating
the guidance He gave through the wilderness by means of the cloudy
pillar. The chants of Moses would be echoed by the people, and would
help to maintain the sense of constant relation between the tribes
and their unseen Defender.

Through the wilderness Israel went, not knowing from what quarter the
sudden raid of a desert people might be made. Swiftly, silently, as if
springing out of the very sand, the Arab raiders might bear down upon
the travellers. They were assured of the guardianship of Him whose eye
never slumbered, when they kept His way and held themselves at His
command. Here the resemblance to our case in the journey of life is
clear; and we are reminded of our need of defence and the only terms
on which we may expect it. We may look for protection against those
who are the enemies of God. But we have no warrant for assuming that
on whatever errand we are bound we have but to invoke the Divine arm
in order to be secure. The dreams of those who think their personal
claim on God may always be urged have no countenance in the prayer,
"Rise up, O Jehovah, and let Thine enemies be scattered." And as Israel
settling to rest after some weary march could enjoy the sense of
Jehovah's presence only if the duties of the day had been patiently
done, and the thought of God's will had made peace in every tribe, and
His promise had given courage and hope--so for us, each day will close
with the Divine benediction when we have "fought a good fight and kept
the faith." Fidelity there must be; or, if it has failed, the deep
repentance that subdues wandering desire and rebellious will, bringing
the whole of life anew into the way of lowly service.




                                   IX

                   _THE STRAIN OF THE DESERT JOURNEY_

                               NUMBERS xi


The narrative has accompanied the march of Israel but a short way from
the mount of God to some spot marked for an encampment by the ark
of the covenant, and already complaining has to be told of, and the
swift judgment of those who complained. The Israelites have made a
reservation in their covenant with God, that though obedience and trust
are solemnly promised, yet leave shall be taken to murmur against His
providence. They will have God for their Protector, they will worship
Him; but let Him make their life smooth. Much has had to be borne which
they did not anticipate; and they grumble and speak evil.

Generally men do not realise that their murmuring is against God.
They have no intention to accuse His providence. It is of other men
they complain, who come in their way; of accidents, so called, for
which no one seems to be responsible; of regulations, well enough
meant, which at some point prove vexatious; the obtuseness and
carelessness of those who undertake but do not perform. And there
does seem to be a great difference between displeasure with human
agents whose follies and failures provoke us, and discontent with our
own lot and its trials. At the same time, this has to be kept in
view, that while we carefully refrain from criticising Providence,
there may be, underlying our complaints, a tacit opinion that the
world is not well made nor well ordered. To a certain extent the
persons who irritate us are responsible for their mistakes; but just
among those who are prone to err our discipline has been appointed.
To gird at them is as much a revolt against the Creator as to
complain of the heat of summer or the winter cold. With our knowledge
of what the world is, of what our fellow-creatures are, should go the
perception that God rules everywhere and stands against us when we
resent what, in His world, we have to do or to suffer. He is against
those who fail in duty also. Yet it is not for us to be angry. Our
due will not be withheld. Even when we suffer most it is still
offered, still given. While we endeavour to remedy the evils we feel,
it must be without a thought that the order appointed by the Great
King fails us at any point.

The punishment of those who complained is spoken of as swift and
terrible. "The fire of the Lord burnt among them, and devoured in the
uttermost part of the camp." This judgment falls under a principle
assumed throughout the whole book, that disaster must overtake
transgressors, and conversely that death by pestilence, earthquake,
or lightning is invariably a result of sin. For the Israelites this
was one of the convictions that maintained a sense of moral duty and
of the danger of offending God. Again and again in the wilderness,
where thunderstorms were common and plagues spread rapidly, the
impression was strongly confirmed that the Most High observed
everything that was done against His will. The journey to Canaan
brought in this way a new experience of God to those who had been
accustomed to the equable conditions of climate and the comparative
health enjoyed in Egypt. The moral education of the people advanced
by the quickening of conscience in regard to all that befell Israel.

From the disaster at Taberah the narrative passes to another phase of
complaint in which the whole camp was involved. The dissatisfaction
began amongst the "mixed multitude"--that somewhat lawless crowd of
low-caste Egyptians and people of the Delta and the wilderness who
attached themselves to the host. Among them first, because they had
absolutely no interest in Israel's hope, a disposition to quarrel
with their circumstances would naturally arise. But the spirit of
dissatisfaction grew apace, and the burden of the new complaint was:
"We have nought but this manna to look to." The part of the desert
into which the travellers had now penetrated was even more sterile
than Midian. Hitherto the food had been varied somewhat by occasional
fruits and the abundant milk of kine and goats. But pasturage for the
cattle was scanty in the wilderness of Paran, and there were no trees
of any kind. Appetite found nothing that was refreshing. Their soul
was dried away.

It was a common belief in our Lord's time that the manna, falling
from heaven, very food of the angels, had been so satisfying, so
delicious, that no people could have been more favoured than those
who ate of it. When Christ spoke of the meat which endureth unto
eternal life, the thought of His hearers immediately turned to the
manna as the special gift of God to their fathers, and they conceived
an expectation that Jesus would give them that bread of heaven, and
so prove Himself worthy of their faith. But He replied, "Moses gave
you not that bread out of heaven, but My Father giveth you the true
bread out of heaven. I am the Bread of Life."

In the course of time the manna had been, so to speak, glorified.
It appeared to the later generations one of the most wonderful and
impressive things recorded in the whole history of their nation,
this provision made for the wandering host. There was the water from
the rock, and there was the manna. What a benignant Providence had
watched over the tribes! How bountiful God had been to the people in
the old days! They longed for a sign of the same kind. To enjoy it
would restore their faith and put them again in the high position
which had been denied for ages.

But these notions are not borne out by the history as we have it in
the passage under notice. Nothing is said about angels' food--that is
a poetical expression which a psalmist used in his fervour. Here we
read, as to the coming of the manna, that when the dew fell upon the
camp at night the manna fell upon it, or with it. And so far from the
people being satisfied, they complained that instead of the fish and
onions, cucumbers and melons of Egypt, they had nothing but manna to
eat. The taste of it is described as like that of fresh oil. In Exodus
it is said to have resembled wafers mixed with honey. It was not the
privilege of the Israelites in the wilderness but their necessity
to live on this somewhat cloying food. In no sense can it be called
ideal. Nevertheless, complaining about it, they were in serious fault,
betraying the foolish expectation that on the way to liberty they
should have no privations. And their discontent with the manna soon
became alarming to Moses. A sort of hysteria spread through the camp.
Not the women only, but the men at the doors of their tents bewailed
their hard lot. There was a tempest of tears and cries.

God, through His providence, determining for men, carrying out His
own designs for their good, does not allow them to keep in the region
of the usual and of mere comfort. Something is brought into their
life which stirs the soul. In new hope they begin an enterprise
the course and end of which they cannot foresee. The conventional,
the pleasant, the peace and abundance of Egypt, can be no longer
enjoyed if the soul is to have its own. By Moses Jehovah summoned
the Israelites from the land of plenty to fulfil a high mission; and
when they responded, it was so far a proof that there was in them
spirit enough for an uncommon destiny. But for the accomplishment
of it they had to be nerved and braced by trial. Their ordeal was
that mortifying of the flesh and of sensuous desire which must be
undergone if the hopes through which the mind becomes conscious of
the will of God are to be fulfilled.

In our personal history God, reaching us by His word, enlightening us
with regard to the true ends of our being, calls us to begin a journey
which has no earthly terminus and promises no earthly reward. We may
be quite sure that we have not yet responded to His call if there is
nothing of the wilderness in our life, no hardship, no adventure, no
giving up of what is good in a temporal sense for what is good in a
spiritual sense. The very essence of the design of God concerning a man
is that he leave the lower and seek the higher, that he deny himself
that which according to the popular view is his life, in order to seek
a remote and lofty goal. There will be duty that calls for faith, that
needs hope and courage. In doing it he will have recurring trials
of his spirit, necessities of self-discipline, stern difficulties of
choice and action. Every one of these he must face.

What is wrong with many lives is that they have no strain in them
as of a desert journey towards a heavenly Canaan, the realisation
of spiritual life. Adventure, when it is undertaken, is often for
the sake of getting fish and melons and cucumbers by-and-by in
greater abundance and of better kinds. Many live hardly just now,
not because they are on the way to spiritual freedom and the high
destiny of life in God, but because they believe themselves to be on
the way to better social position, to wealth or honour. But take the
life that has begun its high enterprise at the urgency of a Divine
vocation, and that life will find hardness, deprivations, perils, of
its own. It is not given to us to be absolutely certain in decision
and endeavour. Out in the wilderness, even when manna is provided,
and the pillar of cloud seems to show the way, the people of God
are in danger of doubting whether they have done wisely, whether
they have not taken too much upon themselves or laid too much upon
the Lord. The Israelites might have said, We have obeyed God: why,
then, should the sun smite us with burning heat, and the dust-storms
sweep down upon our march, and the night fall with so bitter a
chill? Interminable toil, in travelling, in attending to cattle and
domestic duties, in pitching tents and striking them, gathering
fuel, searching far and wide through the camp for food, helping the
children, carrying the sick and aged, toil that did not cease till
far into the night and had to be resumed with early morning--such,
no doubt, were the things that made life in the wilderness irksome.
And although many now have a lighter burden, yet our social life,
adding new difficulties with every improvement, our domestic affairs,
the continual struggle necessary in labour and business, furnish not
a few causes of irritation and of bitterness. God does not remove
annoyances out of the way even of His devoted servants. We remember
how Paul was vexed and burdened while carrying the world's thought
on into a new day. We remember what a weight the infirmities and
treacheries of men laid upon the heart of Christ.

Let us thank God if we feel sometimes across the wilderness a breeze
from the hills of the heavenly Canaan, and now and then catch
glimpses of them far away. But the manna may seem flat and tasteless,
nevertheless; the road may seem long; the sun may scorch. Tempted to
despond, we need afresh to assure ourselves that God is faithful who
has given us His promise. And although we seem to be led not towards
the heavenly frontier, but often aside through close defiles into
some region more barren and dismal than we have yet crossed, doubt is
not for us. He knoweth the way that we take; when He has tried us, we
shall come forth where He appoints.

From the people we turn to Moses and the strain he had to bear as
leader. Partly it was due to his sense of the wrath of God against
Israel. To a certain extent he was responsible for those he led, for
nothing he had done was apart from his own will. The enterprise was
laid on him as a duty certainly; yet he undertook it freely. Such as
the Israelites were, with that mixed multitude among them, a dangerous
element enough, Moses had personally accepted the leadership of them.
And now the murmuring, the lusting, the childish weeping, fall upon
him. He feels that he must stand between the people and Jehovah. The
behaviour of the multitude vexes him to the soul; yet he must take
their part, and avert, if possible, their condemnation.

The position is one in which a leader of men often finds himself.
Things are done which affront him personally, yet he cannot turn
against the wayward and unbelieving, for, if he did, the cause would
be lost. The Divine judgment of the transgressors falls on him all
the more because they themselves are unaware of it. The burden such
an one has to sustain points directly to the sin-bearing of Christ.
Wounded to the soul by the wrong-doing of men, He had to interpose
between them and the stroke of the law, the judgment of God. And
may not Moses be said to be a type of Christ? The parallel may well
be drawn; yet the imperfect mediation of Moses fell far short of
the perfect mediation of our Lord. The narrative here reflects that
partial knowledge of the Divine character which made the mediation of
Moses human and erring for all its greatness.

For one thing Moses exaggerated his own responsibility. He asked
of God: "Why hast Thou evil entreated Thy servant? Why dost Thou
lay the burden of all this people upon me? Am I their father? Am I
to carry the whole multitude as a father carries his young child
in his bosom?" These are ignorant words, foolish words. Moses is
responsible, but not to that extent. It is fit that he should be
grieved when the Israelites do wrong, but not proper that he should
charge God with laying on him the duty of keeping and carrying them
like children. He speaks unadvisedly with his lips.

Responsibility of those who endeavour to lead others has its limits;
and the range of duty is bounded in two ways--on the one hand by
the responsibility of men for themselves, on the other hand by God's
responsibility for them, God's care of them. Moses should see that no
law or ordinance makes him chargeable with the childish lamentations
of those who know they should not complain, who ought to be manly
and endure with stout hearts. If persons who can go on their own
feet want to be carried, no one is responsible for carrying them.
It is their own fault when they are left behind. If those who can
think and discover duty for themselves, desire constantly to have
it pointed out to them, crave daily encouragement in doing their
duty, and complain because they are not sufficiently considered, the
leader, like Moses, is not responsible. Every man must bear his own
burden--that is, must bear the burden of duty, of thought, of effort,
so far as his ability goes.

Then, on the other side, the power of God is beneath all, His care
extends over all. Moses ought not for a moment to doubt Jehovah's
mindfulness of His people. Men who hold office in society or the
Church are never to think that their effort is commensurate with
God's. Proud indeed he would be who said: "The care of all these
souls lies on me: if they are to be saved, I must save them; if they
perish, I shall be chargeable with their blood." Speaking ignorantly
and in haste, Moses went almost that length; but his error is not to
be repeated. The charge of the Church and of the world is God's; and
He never fails to do for all and for each what is right. The teacher
of men, the leader of affairs, with full sympathy and indefatigable
love, is to do all he can, yet never trench on the responsibility of
men for their own life, or assume to himself the part of Providence.

Moses made one mistake and went on to another. He was on the whole
a man of rare patience and meekness; yet on this occasion he spoke
to Jehovah in terms of daring resentment. His cry was to get rid of
the whole enterprise: "If Thou deal thus with me, kill me, I pray
Thee, out of hand, and let me not see my wretchedness." He seemed to
himself to have this work to do and no other, apparently imagining
that if he was not competent for this, he could be of no use in the
world. But even if he had failed as a leader, highest in office,
he might have been fit enough for a secondary place, under Joshua
or some other whom God might inspire: this he failed to see. And
although he was bound up in Israel's well-being, so that if the
expedition did not prosper he had no wish to live, and was so far
sincerely patriotic, yet what good end could his death serve? The
desire to die shows wounded pride. Better live on and turn shepherd
again. No man is to despise his life, whatever it is, however it may
seem to come short of the high ambition he has cherished as a servant
of God and men. Discovering that in one line of endeavour he cannot
do all he would, let him make trial of others, not pray for death.

The narrative represents God as dealing graciously with his erring
servant. Help was provided for him by the appointment of seventy
elders, who were to share the task of guiding and controlling
the tribes. These seventy were to have a portion of the leader's
spirit--zeal and enthusiasm like his own. Their influence in the
camp would prevent the faithlessness and dejection which threatened
to wreck the Hebrew enterprise. Further, the murmuring of the people
was to be effectually silenced. Flesh was to be given them till
they loathed it. They should learn that the satisfaction of ignorant
desire meant punishment rather than pleasure.

The promise of flesh was speedily fulfilled by an extraordinary
flight of quails, brought up, according to the seventy-eighth Psalm,
by a wind which blew from the south and east--that is, from the
Elanitic Gulf. These quails cannot sustain themselves long on the
wing, and after crossing the desert some thirty or forty miles they
would scarcely be able to fly. The enormous numbers of them which
fluttered around the camp are not beyond ordinary possibility. Fowls
of this kind migrate at certain seasons in such enormous multitudes
that in the small island of Capri, near Naples, one hundred and sixty
thousand have been netted in one season. When exhausted, they would
easily be taken as they flew at a height of about two cubits above
the ground. The whole camp was engaged in capturing quails from one
morning to the evening of the following day; and the quantity was
so great that he who gathered least had ten homers, probably a heap
estimated to be of that measure. To keep them for further use the
birds were prepared and spread on the ground to dry in the sun.

When the epidemic of weeping broke out through the camp, the doubt
occurred to Moses whether there was any spiritual quality in the
people, any fitness for duty or destiny of a religious kind. They
seemed to be all unbelievers on whom the goodness of God and the
sacred instruction had been wasted. They were earthly and sensual.
How could they ever trust God enough to reach Canaan?--or if they
reached it, how would their occupation of it be justified? They would
but form another heathen nation, all the worse that they had once
known the true God and had abandoned Him. But a different view of
things was presented to Moses when the chosen elders, men of worth,
were gathered at the tent of meeting, and on a sudden impulse of the
Spirit began to prophesy. As these men in loud and ecstatic language
proclaimed their faith, Moses found his confidence in Jehovah's power
and in the destiny of Israel re-established. His mind was relieved at
once of the burden of responsibility and the dread of an extinction
of the heavenly light he had been the means of kindling among the
tribes. If there were seventy men capable of receiving the Spirit
of God, there might be hundreds, even thousands. A spring of new
enthusiasm is opened, and Israel's future is again possible.

Now there were two men, Eldad and Medad, who were of the seventy,
but had not come to the tent of meeting, where the prophetic spirit
fell upon the rest. They had not heard the summons, we may suppose.
Unaware of what was taking place at the tabernacle, yet realising the
honour conferred upon them, they were perhaps engaged in ordinary
duties, or, having found some need for their interference, they may
have been rebuking murmurers and endeavouring to restore order among
the unruly. And suddenly they also, under the same influence as the
other sixty-eight, began to prophesy. The spirit of earnestness
caught them. With the same ecstasy they declared their faith and
praised the God of Israel.

There was in one sense a limitation of the spirit of prophecy,
whatever it was. Of all the host only the seventy received it. Other
good men and true in Israel that day might have seemed as capable of
the heavenly endowment as those who prophesied. It was, however, in
harmony with a known principle that the men designated to special
office alone received the gift. The sense of a choice felt to be that
of God does unquestionably exalt the mind and spirit of those chosen.
They realise that they stand higher and must do more for God and men
than others, that they are inspired to say what otherwise they could
not dare to say. The limitation of the Spirit in this sense is not
invariable, is not strict. At no time in the world's history has the
call to office been indispensable to prophetic fervour and courage.
Yet the sequence is sufficiently common to be called a law.

But while in a sense there is restriction of the spiritual influence,
in another sense there is no restraint. The Divine afflatus is not
confined to those who have gathered at the tabernacle. It is not
place or occasion that makes the prophets; it is the Spirit, the
power from on high entering into life; and out in the camp the two
have their portion of the new energy and zeal. Spiritual influence,
then, is not confined to any particular place. Neither was the
neighbourhood of the tabernacle so holy that there alone the elders
could receive their gift; nor is any place of meeting, any church,
capable of such consecration and singular identification with the
service of God that there alone the power of the Divine Spirit can be
manifested or received. Let there be a man chosen of God, ready for
the duties of a holy calling, and on that man the Spirit will come,
wherever he is, in whatever he is engaged. He may be employed in
common work, but in doing it he will be moved to earnest service and
testimony. He may be labouring, under great difficulties, to restore
the justice that has been impaired by social errors and political
chicanery--and his words will be prophetic; he will be a witness for
God to those who are without faith, without holy fear.

While Eldad and Medad prophesied in the camp, a young man who
heard them ran officiously to inform Moses. To this young man as
to others--for no doubt there were many who loved and revered the
Usual--the two elders were presumptuous fools. The camp was, as we
say, secular: was it not? People in the camp looked after ordinary
affairs, tended their cattle, chaffered and bargained, quarrelled
about trifles, murmured against Moses and against God. Was it right
to prophesy there, carrying religious words and ideas into the midst
of common life? If Eldad and Medad could prophesy, let them go to the
tabernacle. And besides, what right had they to speak for Jehovah, in
Jehovah's name? Was not Moses the prophet, the only prophet? Israel
was accustomed to think him so, would keep to that opinion. It would
be confusing if at any one's tent door a prophet might begin to
speak without warning. So the young man thought it his duty to run
and tell Moses what was taking place. And Joshua, when he heard, was
alarmed, and desired Moses to put an end to the irregular ministry.
"My lord Moses, forbid them," he said. He was jealous not for himself
and the other elders, but for Moses' sake. So far the leader alone
held communication with Jehovah and spoke in His name; and there was
perhaps some reason for the alarm of Joshua, more than was apparent
at the time. To have one central authority was better and safer than
to have many persons using the right to speak in any sense for God.
Who could be sure that these new voices would agree with Moses in
every respect? Even if they did, might there not be divisions in the
camp, new priesthoods as well as new oracles? Prophets might not be
always wise, always truly inspired. And there might be false prophets
by-and-by, even if Eldad and Medad were not false.

In like manner it might be argued now that there is danger when one
here and another there assume authority as revealers of the truth of
things. Some, full of their own wisdom, take high ground as critics
and teachers of religion. Others imagine that with the right to
wear a certain dress there has come to them the full equipment of
the prophet. And others still, remembering how Elijah and John the
Baptist arrayed themselves in coarse cloth and leathern girdle,
assume that garb, or what corresponds to it, and claim to have the
prophetic gift because they express the voice of the people. So in
our days there is a question whether Eldad or Medad, prophesying in
the camp, ought to be trusted or even allowed to speak. But who is to
decide? Who is to take upon him to silence the voices? The old way
was rough and ready. All who were in office in a certain Church were
commissioned to interpret Divine mysteries; the rest were ordered to
be silent on pain of imprisonment. Those who did not teach as the
Church taught, under her direction, were made offenders against the
public well-being. That way, however, has been found wanting, and
"liberty of prophesying" is fully allowed. With the freedom there
have come difficulties and dangers enough. Yet to "try the spirits
whether they are of God" is our discipline on the way to life.

The reply of Moses to Joshua's request anticipates, in no small
degree, the doctrine of liberty. "Art thou jealous for my sake? Would
God that all the Lord's people were prophets, and that the Lord
would put His Spirit upon them." His answer is that of a broad and
magnanimous toleration. Moses cannot indeed have believed that great
religious truths were in the reach of every man, and that any earnest
soul might receive and communicate those truths. But his conception
of a people of God is like that in the prophecy of Joel, where he
speaks of all flesh being endued with the Spirit, the old men and
young men, the sons and daughters, alike made able to testify of what
they have seen and heard. The truly great man entertains no jealousy
of others. He delights to see in other eyes the flash of heavenly
intelligence, to find other souls made channels of Divine revelation.
He would have no monopoly in knowledge and sacred prophecy. Moses had
instituted an exclusive priesthood; but here he sets the gate of the
prophetical office wide open. All whom God endows are declared free
in Israel to use that office.

We can only wonder that still any order of men should try in the name
of the Church to shut the mouths of those who approve themselves
reverent students of the Divine Word. At the same time let it not be
forgotten that the power of prophesying is no chance gift, no easy
faculty. He who is to speak on God's behalf must indeed know the mind
of God. How can one claim the right to instruct others who has never
opened his mind to the Divine voice, who has not reverently compared
Scripture with Providence and all the phases of revelation that are
unfolded in conscience and human life? Men who draw a narrow circle
and keep their thoughts within it can never become prophets.

The closing verses of the chapter tell of the plague that fell on
the lustful, and the burial of those who died of it, in a place
thence called Kibroth-hattaavah. The people had their desire, and
it brought judgment upon them. Here in Israel's history a needful
warning is written; but how many read without understanding! And so,
every day the same plague is claiming its victims, and "graves of
lust" are dug. The preacher still finds in this portion of Scripture
a subject that never ceases to claim treatment, let social conditions
be what they may.




                                   X

                   _THE JEALOUSY OF MIRIAM AND AARON_

                              NUMBERS xii


It may be confidently said that no representative writer of the
post-exilic age would have invented or even cared to revive the
episode of this chapter. From the point of view of Ezra and his
fellow-reformers, it would certainly appear a blot on the character
of Moses that he passed by the women of his own people and took a
Cushite or Ethiopian wife. The idea of the "holy seed," on which
the zealous leaders of new Judaism insisted after the return from
Babylon, was exclusive. It appeared an abomination for Israelites
to intermarry either with the original inhabitants of Canaan, or
even with Moabites, Ammonites, and Egyptians. At an earlier date
any disposition to seek alliance with Egypt or hold intercourse
with it was denounced as profane. Isaiah and Jeremiah alike declare
that Israel, whom Jehovah led forth from Egypt, should never think
of returning to drink of its waters or trust in its shadow. As the
necessity of separateness from other peoples became strongly felt,
revulsion from Ethiopia would be greater than from Egypt itself.
Jeremiah's inquiry, "Can the Ethiopian change his skin?" made the
dark colour of that race a symbol of moral taint.

To be sure, the prophets did not all adopt this view. Amos,
especially, in one of his striking passages, claims for the
Ethiopians the same relation to God as Israel had: "Are ye not as
the children of the Ethiopians unto Me, O children of Israel, saith
the Lord?" No reproach to the Israelites is intended; they are only
reminded that all nations have the same origin and are under the same
Divine providence. And the Psalms in their evangelical anticipations
look once and again to that dark land in the remote south: "Princes
shall come out of Egypt; Ethiopia shall soon stretch out her hands
unto God"; "I will make mention of Rahab and Babylon to them that
know Me: behold Philistia, and Tyre, with Ethiopia; this man was
born there." The zeal of the period immediately after the captivity
carried separateness far beyond that of any earlier time, surpassing
the letter of the statute in Exod. xxxiv. 11 and Deut. vii. 2. And we
may safely assert that if the Pentateuch did not come into existence
till after the new ideas of exclusion were established, and if it
was written then for the purpose of exalting Moses and his law, the
reference to his Cushite wife would certainly have been suppressed.

All the more may this be maintained when we take into account the
likelihood that it was not entirely without reason Aaron and Miriam
felt some jealousy of the woman. The story is usually taken to mean
that there was no cause whatever for the feeling entertained; and if
Miriam alone had been involved, we might have regarded the matter as
without significance. But Aaron had hitherto acted cordially with
the brother to whom he owed his high position. Not a single disloyal
word or deed had as yet separated him in the least, personally, from
Moses. They wrought together in the promulgation of law, they were
together in transgression and judgment. Aaron had every reason for
remaining faithful; and if he was now moved to a feeling that the
character and reputation of the lawgiver were imperilled, it must
have been because he saw reason. He could approach Moses quietly
on this subject without any thought of challenging his authority
as leader. We see that while he accompanied Miriam he kept in the
background, unwilling, himself, to appear as an accuser, though
persuaded that the unpleasant duty must be done.

So far as Moses is concerned these thoughts, which naturally arise,
go to support the genuineness of the history. And in like manner the
condemnation of Aaron bears out the view that the episode is not
of legendary growth. If priestly influence had determined to any
extent the form of the narrative, the fault of Aaron would have been
suppressed. He agrees with Miriam in making a claim the rejection
of which involves him and the priesthood in shame. And yet, again,
the theory that here we have prophetic narrative, critical of the
priesthood, will not stand; for Miriam is a prophetess, and language
is used which seems to deny to all but Moses a clear and intimate
knowledge of the Divine will.

Miriam was the spokeswoman. She it was, as the Hebrew implies,
who "spake against Moses because of the Cushite woman whom he had
married." It would seem that hitherto in right of her prophetical
gift she was to some extent an adviser of her brother, or had
otherwise a measure of influence. It appeared to her not only a bad
thing for Moses himself but absolutely wrong that a woman of alien
race, who probably came out of Egypt with the tribes, one among the
mixed multitude, should have anything to say to him in private, or
should be in his confidence. Miriam maintained, apparently, that her
brother had committed a serious mistake in marrying this wife, and
still more in denying to Aaron and to herself that right of advising
which they had hitherto used. Was not Moses forgetting that Miriam
had her share in the zeal and inspiration which had made the guidance
of the tribes so far successful? If Moses stands aloof, consults only
with his alien wife, will he not forfeit position and authority and
be deprived of help with which he has no right to dispense?

Miriam's is an instance, the first instance we may say, of the
woman's claim to take her place side by side with the man in the
direction of affairs. It would be absurd to say that the modern
desire has its origin in a spirit of jealousy like that which Miriam
showed; yet, parallel to her demand, "Hath the Lord indeed spoken
only by Moses? Hath he not also spoken by us?" is the recent cry,
"Has man a monopoly either of wisdom or of the moral qualities? Are
not women at least equally endowed with ethical insight and sagacity
in counsel?" Long excluded from affairs by custom and law, women have
become weary of using their influence in an unrecognised, indirect
way, and many would now claim an absolute parity with men, convinced
that if in any respect they are weak as yet they will soon become
capable. The claim is to a certain extent based on the Christian
doctrine of equality between male and female, but also on the
acknowledged success of women who, engaging in public duties side by
side with men, have proved their aptitude and won high distinction.

At the same time, those who have had experience of the world and
the many phases of human life must always have a position which the
inexperienced may not claim; and women, as compared with men, must
continue to be at a certain disadvantage for this reason. It may be
supposed that intuition can be placed against experience, that the
woman's quick insight may serve her better than the man's slowly
acquired knowledge. And most will allow this, but only to a certain
point. The woman's intuition is a fact of her nature--to be trusted
often and along many ways. It is, indeed, her experience, gained
half unconsciously. But the modern claim is assuming far more than
this. We are told that the moral sense of the race comes down through
women. They conserve the moral sense. This is no Christian claim,
or Christian only in outdoing Romanism and setting Mary far above
her Son. Seriously put forward by women, this will throw back their
whole claim into the middle ages again. That a finer moral sense
often forms part of their intuition is admitted: that as a sex they
lead the race must be proved where, as yet, they do not prove it.
Nevertheless, the world is advancing by the advance of women. There
is no need any longer for that jealous intriguing which has often
wrecked governments and homes. Christianity, ruling the questions
of sex, means a very stable form of society, a continuous and calm
development, the principle of charity and mutual service.

Miriam claimed the position of a prophet or _nabi_ for herself, and
endeavoured to make her gift and Aaron's as revealers of truth appear
equal to that of Moses. At the Red Sea she led the chorus "Sing ye to
the Lord, for He hath triumphed gloriously. The horse and his rider
hath He thrown into the sea." That, so far as we know, was her title
to count herself a prophetess. As for Aaron, we often find his name
associated with his brother's in the formula, "The Lord spake unto
Moses and Aaron." He had also been the _nabi_ of Moses when the two
went to Pharaoh with their demand on behalf of Israel. But the claim
of equality with Moses was vain. Poor Miriam had her one flash of
high enthusiasm, and may have now and again risen to some courage
and zeal in professing her faith. But she does not seem to have had
the ability to distinguish between her fitful glimpses of truth and
Moses' Divine intelligence. Aaron, again, must have been half ashamed
when he was placed beside his brother. He had no genius, none of the
elevation of soul that betokens an inspired man. He obeyed well,
served the sanctuary well; he was a good priest, but no prophet.

The little knowledge, the small gifts, appear great to those who have
them, so great as often to eclipse those of nobler men. We magnify what
we have,--our power of vision, though we cannot see far; our spiritual
intelligence, though we have learned the first principles only of
Divine faith. In the religious controversies of to-day, as in those
of the past, men whose claims are of the slightest have pushed to the
front with the demand, Hath not the Lord spoken by us? But there is
no Moses to be challenged. The age of the revealers is gone. He who
seems to be a great prophet may be taken for one because he stands on
the past and invokes voluminous authority for all he says and does. In
truth, our disputations are between the modern Eliphaz, Bildad, and
Job--all of them to-day men of limited view and meagre inspiration,
who repeat old hearsays with wearisome pertinacity, or inveigh against
the old interpretations with infinite assurance. Jehovah speaks from
the storm; but there is no heed paid to His voice. By some the Word is
declared unintelligible; others deny it to be His.

While Moses kept silence, ruling his spirit in the meekness of a man of
God, suddenly the command was given, "Come out, ye three, unto the tent
of meeting." Possibly the interview had been at Moses' own tent in the
near portion of the camp. Now judgment was to be solemnly given; and
the circumstances were made the more impressive by the removal of the
cloud-pillar from above the tabernacle to the door of the tent, where
it seems to have intervened between Moses on the one side and Miriam
and Aaron on the other; then the Voice spoke, requiring these two to
approach, and the oracle was heard. The subject of it was the position
of Moses as the interpreter of Jehovah's will. He was distinguished
from any other prophet of the time.

We are here at a point where more knowledge is needful to a full
understanding of the revelation: we can only conjecture. Not long
is it since the seventy elders belonging to different tribes were
endowed with the spirit of prophecy. Already there may have been some
abuse of their new power; for though God bestows His gifts on men,
they have practical liberty, and may not always be wise or humble in
exercising the gifts. So the need of a distinction between Moses and
the others would be clear. As to Miriam and Aaron, their jealousy
may have been not only of Moses, but also of the seventy. Miriam
and Aaron were prophets of older standing, and would be disposed to
claim that the Lord spoke by them rather in the way He spoke by Moses
than after the manner of His communications through the seventy.
Were members of the sacred family to be on a level henceforth with
any persons who spoke ecstatically in praise of Jehovah? Thus claim
asserted itself over claim. The seventy had to be informed as to the
limits of their office, prevented from taking a place higher than
they had been assigned: Miriam and Aaron also had to be instructed
that their position differed entirely from their brother's, that they
must be content so far as prophecy was concerned to stand with the
rest whose inspiration they may have despised. With this view the
general terms of the deliverance appear to correspond.

The Voice from the tent of meeting was heard through the cloud; and
on the one hand the function of the prophet or _nabi_ was defined, on
the other the high honour and prerogative of Moses were announced.
The prophet, said the Voice, shall have Jehovah made known to him
"in vision, or in dream,"--in his waking hours, when the mind is on
the alert, receiving impressions from nature and the events of life;
when memory is occupied with the past and hope with the future, the
vision shall be given. Or again, in sleep, when the mind is withdrawn
from external objects and appears entirely passive, a dream shall
open glimpses of the great work of Providence, the purposes of
judgment or of grace. In these ways the prophet shall receive his
knowledge; and of necessity the revelation will be to some extent
shadowed, difficult to interpret. Now the name prophet, _nabi_, is
continually applied throughout the Old Testament, not only to the
seventy and others who like them spoke in ecstatic language, and
those who afterwards used musical instruments to help the rapture
with which the Divine utterance came, but also to men like Amos and
Isaiah. And it has been made a question whether the inspiration of
these prophets is to come under the general law of the oracle we
are considering. The answer in one sense is clear. So far as the
word _nabi_ designates all, they are all of one order. But it is
equally certain, as Kuenen has pointed out, that the later prophets
were not always in a state of ecstasy when they gave their oracles,
nor simply reproducing thoughts of which they first became conscious
in that state. They had an exalting consciousness of the presence
and enlightening Spirit of Jehovah bestowed on them, or the burden
of Jehovah laid on them. The visions were often flashes of thought;
at other times the prophet seemed to look on a new earth and heaven
filled with moving symbols and powers. But the whole development of
national faith and knowledge affected their flashes of thought and
visions, lifting prophetic energy into a higher range.

Now, returning to the oracle, we find that Moses is not a prophet
or _nabi_ in this sense. The words that relate to him carefully
distinguish between his illumination and that of the _nabi_. "My
servant Moses is not so; he is faithful in all Mine house: with him
will I speak mouth to mouth, even manifestly, and not in dark speeches;
and the form of Jehovah shall he behold." Every word here is chosen
to exclude the idea of ecstasy, the idea, of vision or dream, which
leaves some shadow of uncertainty upon the mind, and the idea of
any intermediate influence between the human intelligence and the
disclosure of God's will. And when we try to interpret this in terms of
our own mental operations, and our consciousness of the way in which
truth reaches our minds, we recognise for one thing an impression
made distinctly word by word of the message to be conveyed. There is
given to Moses not only a general idea of the truth or principle to
be embodied in his words, but he receives the very terms. They come
to him in concrete form. He has but to repeat or write what Jehovah
communicates. Along with this there is given to Moses a power of
apprehending the form or similitude of God. His mind is made capable of
singular precision in receiving and transmitting the oracle or statute.
There is complete calmness and what we may call self-possession when he
is in the tent of meeting face to face with the Eternal. And yet he has
this spiritual, transcendent symbol of the Divine Majesty before him.
He is no poet, but he enjoys some revelation higher and more exalting
to mind and soul than poet ever had.

The paradox is not inconceivable. There is a way to this converse
with God "mouth to mouth" along which the patient, earnest soul can
partly travel. Without rhapsody, with full effort of the mind that
has gathered from every source and is ready for the Divine synthesis
of ideas, the Divine illumination, the Divine dictation, if we may so
speak, the humble intelligence may arrive where, for the guidance of
the personal life at least, the very words of God are to be heard.
Beyond, along the same way, lies the chamber of audience which Moses
knew. We think it an amazing thing to be sure of God and of His
will to the very words. Our state is so often that of doubt, or of
self-absorption, or of entanglement with the affairs of others, that
we are generally incapable of receiving the direct message. Yet of
whom should we be sure if not of God? Of what words should we be more
certain than those pure, clear words that come from His mouth? Moses
heard on great themes, national and moral--he heard for the ages, for
the world: there lay his unique dignity. We may hear only for our
own guidance in the next duty that is to be done. But the Spirit of
God directs those who trust Him. It is ours to seek and to receive
the very truth.

With regard to the _similitude_ of Jehovah which Moses saw, we notice
that there is no suggestion of human form; rather would this seem
to be carefully avoided. The statement does not take us back to the
appearance of the angel Jehovah to Abraham, nor does it point to any
manifestation like that of which we read in the history of Joshua or
of Gideon. Nothing is here said of an angel. We are led to think of
an exaltation of the spiritual perception of Moses, so that he knew
the reality of the Divine life, and was made sure of an originative
wisdom, a transcendent source of ideas and moral energy. He with
whom Moses holds communion is One whose might and holiness and glory
are seen with the spiritual eye, whose will is made known by a voice
entering into the soul. And the distinction intended between Moses
and all other prophets corresponds to a fact which the history of
Israel's religion brings to light. The account of the way in which
Jehovah communicated with Moses remains subject to the condition
that the expressions used, such as "mouth to mouth," are still only
symbols of the truth. They mean that in the very highest sense
possible to man Moses entered into the purposes of God regarding
His people. Now Isaiah certainly approached this intimate knowledge
of the Divine counsel when long afterwards he said in Jehovah's
name: "Behold My Servant, whom I uphold; Mine Elect, in whom My soul
delighteth; I have put My Spirit upon Him: He shall bring forth
judgment unto the Gentiles. He shall not cry, nor lift up, nor cause
His voice to be heard in the street." Yet between Moses and Isaiah
there is a difference. For Moses is the means of giving to Israel
pure morality and true religion. By the inspiration of God he brings
into existence that which is not. Isaiah foresees; Moses, in a sense,
creates. And the one parallel with Moses, according to Scripture, is
to be found in Christ, who is the creator of the new humanity.

When the oracle had spoken, there was a movement of the cloud from the
door of the tent of meeting, and apparently from the tabernacle--a
sign of the displeasure of God. Following the idea that the cloud was
connected with the altar, this withdrawal has been interpreted by
Lange as a rebuke to Aaron. "He was inwardly crushed; the fire on his
altar went out; the pillar of smoke no longer mounted up as a token of
grace; the cultus was for a moment at a standstill, and it was as if
an interdict of Jehovah lay on the cultus of the sanctuary." But the
cloud-pillar is not, as this interpretation would imply, associated
with Aaron personally; it is always the symbol of the Divine will "by
the hand of Moses." We must suppose therefore that the movement of the
cloud conveyed in some new and unexpected way a sense of the Divine
support which Moses enjoyed. He was justified in all he had done:
condemnation was brought home to his accusers.

And Miriam, who had offended most, was punished with more than a
rebuke. Suddenly she was found to be covered with leprosy. Aaron,
looking upon her, saw that morbid pallor which was regarded as the
invariable sign of the disease. It was seen as a proof of her sin
and of the anger of Jehovah. Himself trembling as one who had barely
escaped, Aaron could not but confess his share in the transgression.
Addressing Moses with the deepest reverence, he said, "Oh my lord,
lay not, I pray thee, sin upon us, for that we have done foolishly,
and for that we have sinned." The leprosy is the mark of sin. Let it
not be stamped on her indelibly, nor on me. Let not the disease run
its course to the horrible end. With no small presumption the two had
ventured to challenge their brother's conduct and position. They knew
indeed, yet from their intimacy with him did not rightly apprehend,
the "divinity that hedged" him. Now for the first time its terror
is disclosed to themselves; and they shrink before the man of God,
pleading with him as if he were omnipotent.

Moses needs no second appeal to his compassion. He is a truly
inspired man, and can forgive. He has seen the great God merciful
and gracious, longsuffering, slow to anger, and he has caught
something of the Divine magnanimity. This temper was not always
shown throughout Israel's history by those who had the position
of prophets. And we find that men who claim to be religious, even
to be interpreters of the Divine will, are not invariably above
retaliation. They are seen to hate those who criticise them, who
throw doubt upon their arguments. A man's claim to fellowship with
God, his professed knowledge of the Divine truth and religion, may be
tested by his conduct when he is under challenge. If he cannot plead
with God on behalf of those who have assailed him, he has not the
Spirit; he is as "sounding brass, or a clanging cymbal."

Even in response to the prayer of Moses, Miriam could not be cured at
once. She must go aside bearing her reproach. Shame for her offence,
apart from the taint of leprosy, would make it fitting that she should
withdraw seven days from camp and sanctuary. A personal indignity,
not affecting her character in the least, would have been felt to
that extent. Her transgression is to be realised and brooded over for
her spiritual good. The law is one that needs to be kept in mind. To
escape detection and leave adverse judgment behind is all that some
offenders against moral law seem to desire. They dread the shame and
nothing besides. Let that be avoided, or, after continuing for a time,
let the sense of it pass, and they feel themselves free. But true shame
is towards God; and from the mind sincerely penitent that does not
quickly pass away. Those only who are ignorant of the nature of sin can
soon overcome the consciousness of God's displeasure. As for men, no
doubt they should forgive; but their forgiveness is often too lightly
granted, too complacently assumed, and we see the easy self-recovery
of one who should be sitting in sackcloth and ashes. God forgives
with infinite depth of tenderness and grace of pardon. But His very
generosity will affect the truly contrite with poignant sorrow when His
name has by their act been brought into dishonour.

The offence of Miriam was only jealousy and presumption. She may
scarcely seem so great a sinner that an attack of leprosy should
have been her punishment, though it lasted for no more than seven
days. We make so much of bodily maladies, so little of diseases of
the soul, that we would think it strange if any one for his pride
should be struck with paralysis, or for envy should be laid down with
fever. Yet beside the spiritual disorder that of the body is of small
moment. Why do we think so little of the moral taint, the falsehood,
malice, impurity, and so much of the ills our flesh is heir to? The
bad heart is the great disease.

Miriam's exclusion from the camp becomes a lesson to all the people.
They do not journey while she is separated as unclean. There may have
been other lepers in the outlying tents; but her sin has been of such
a kind that the public conscience is especially directed to it. And
the lesson had particular point with reference to those who had the
prophetic gift.

Modern society, making much of sanitation and all kinds of
improvements and precautions intended to prevent the spread of
epidemics and mitigate their effects, has also some thought of moral
disease. Persons guilty of certain crimes are confined in prisons
or "cut off from the people." But of the greater number of moral
maladies no account is taken. And there is no widespread gloom over
the nation, no arrest of affairs, when some hideous case of social
immorality or business depravity has come to light. It is but a few
who pray for those who have the evil heart, and wait sympathetically
for their cleansing. Ought not the reorganisation of society to be
on a moral rather than an economic basis? We should be nearer the
general well-being if it were reckoned a disaster when any employer
oppressed those under him, or workmen were found indifferent to their
brothers, or a grave crime disclosed a low state of morality in some
class or circle. It is the defeat of armies and navies, the overthrow
of measures and governments, that occupy our attention as a people,
and seem often to obscure every moral and religious thought. Or if
injustice is the topic, we find the point of it in this: that one
class is rich while another is poor; that money, not character, is
lost in shameful contention.




                                   XI

                      _THE SPIES AND THEIR REPORT_

                        NUMBERS xiii.; xiv. 1-10


Two narratives at least appear to be united in the thirteenth and
fourteenth chapters. From xiii. 17, 22, 23, we learn that the spies
were despatched by way of the south, and that they went to Hebron and
a little beyond, as far as the valley of Eshcol. But ver. 21 states
that they spied out the land from the wilderness of Zin, south of the
Dead Sea, to the entering in of Hamath. The latter statement implies
that they traversed what were afterwards called Judæa, Samaria, and
Galilee, and penetrated as far as the valley of the Leontes, between
the southern ranges of Libanus and Antilibanus. The one account taken
by itself would make the journey of the spies northward about a
hundred miles; the other, three times as long.

A further difference is this: According to one of the narratives
Caleb alone encourages the people (xiii. 30; xiv. 24). But according
to the other (xiii. 8, 16; xiv. 6, 7), Joshua, as well as Caleb, is
among the twelve, and reports favourably as to the possibility of
conquering and possessing Canaan.

Without deciding on the critical points involved, we may find a way
of harmonising the apparent differences. It is quite possible, for
instance, that while some of the twelve were instructed to keep in
the south of Canaan, others were sent to the middle district and a
third company to the north. Caleb might be among those who explored
the south; while Joshua, having gone to the far north, might return
somewhat later and join his testimony to that which Caleb had given.
There is no inconsistency between the portions ascribed to the one
narrative and those referred to the other; and the account, as we
have it, may give what was the gist of several co-ordinate documents.
As to any variance in the reports of the spies, we can easily
understand how those who looked for smiling valleys and fruitful
fields would find them, while others saw only the difficulties and
dangers that would have to be faced.

The questions occur, why and at whose instance the survey was
undertaken. From Deuteronomy we learn that a demand for it arose
among the people. Moses says (i. 22): "Ye came near unto me every one
of you, and said, Let us send men before us, that they may search
the land for us, and bring us word again of the way by which we must
go up, and the cities unto which we shall come." In Numbers the
expedition is undertaken at the order of Jehovah conveyed through
Moses. The opposition here is only on the surface. The people might
desire, but decision did not lie with them. It was quite natural when
the tribes had at length approached the frontier of Canaan that they
should seek information as to the state of the country. And the wish
was one which could be sanctioned, which had even been anticipated.
The land of Canaan was already known to the children of Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob, and the praise of it as a land flowing with milk
and honey mingled with their traditions. In one sense there was no
need to send spies, either to report on the fertility of the land
or on the peoples dwelling in it. Yet Divine Providence, on which
men are to rely, does not supersede their prudence and the duty that
rests with them of considering the way they go. The destiny of a life
or of a nation is to be wrought out in faith; still we are to use
all available means in order to ensure success. So personality grows
through providence, and God raises men for Himself.

To the band of pioneers each tribe contributes a man, and all the
twelve are headmen, whose intelligence and good faith may presumably be
trusted. They know the strength of Israel; they should also be able to
count upon the great source of courage and power--the unseen Friend of
the nation. Remembering what Egypt is, they know also the ways of the
desert; and they have seen war. If they possess enthusiasm and hope,
they will not be dismayed by the sight of a few walled towns or even of
some Anakim. They will say, "The Lord of hosts is with us, the God of
Jacob is our refuge." Yet there is danger that old doubts and new fears
may colour their report. God appoints men to duty; but their personal
character and tendencies remain. And the very best men Israel can
choose for a task like this will need all their faithfulness and more
than all their faith to do it well.

The spies were to climb the heights visible in the north, and look
forth towards the Great Sea and away to Moriah and Carmel. They were
also to make their way cautiously into the land itself and examine
it. Moses anticipates that all he has said in praise of Canaan will
be made good by the report, and the people will be encouraged to
enter at once on the final struggle. When the desert was around them,
unfruitful, seemingly interminable, the Israelites might have been
disposed to fear that journeying from Egypt they were leaving the
fertility of the world farther and farther behind. Some may have
thought that the Divine promise had misled and deceived them, and
that Canaan was a dream. Even although they had now overpassed that
dreary region covered with coarse gravel, black flints, and drifting
sand, "the great and terrible wilderness," what hope was there that
northward they should reach a land of olives, vineyards, and flowing
streams? The report of the spies would answer this question.

Now in like manner the future state of existence may seem dim and
unreal, scarcely credible, to many. Our life is like a series
of marches hither and thither through the desert. Neither as
individuals nor as communities do we seem to approach any state
of blessedness and rest. Rather, as years go by, does the region
become more inhospitable. Hopes once cherished are one after another
disappointed. The stern mountains that overhung the track by which
our forefathers went still frown upon us. It seems impossible to get
beyond their shadow. And in a kind of despair some may be ready to
say: There is no promised land. This waste, with its sere grass, its
burning sand, its rugged hills, makes the whole of life. We shall
die here in the wilderness like those who have been before us; and
when our graves are dug and our bodies laid in them, our existence
will have an end. But it is a thoughtless habit to doubt that of
which we have no full experience. Here we have but begun to learn the
possibilities of life and find a clue to its Divine mysteries. And
even as to the Israelites in the wilderness there were not wanting
signs that pointed to the fruitful and pleasant country beyond, so
for us, even now, there are previsions of the higher world. Some
shrubs and straggling vines grew in sheltered hollows among the
hills. Here and there a scanty crop of maize was reared, and in the
rainy season streams flowed down the wastes. From what was known the
Israelites might reason hopefully to that which as yet was beyond
their sight. And are there not fore-signs for the soul, springs
opened to the seekers after God in the desert, some verdure of
righteousness, some strength and peace in believing?

Science and business and the cares of life absorb many and bewilder
them. Immersed in the work of their world, men are apt to forget
that deeper draughts of life may be drunk than they obtain in
the laboratory or the counting-house. But he who knows what love
and worship are, who finds in all things the food of religious
thought and devotion, makes no such mistake. To him a future in the
spiritual world is far more within the range of hopeful anticipation
than Canaan was to one who remembered Egypt and had bathed in the
waters of the Nile. Is the heavenly future real? It is: as thought
and faith and love are real, as the fellowship of souls and the
joy of communion with God are realities. Those who are in doubt
as to immortality may find the cause of that doubt in their own
earthliness. Let them be less occupied with the material, care more
for the spiritual possessions, truth, righteousness, religion, and
they will begin to feel an end of doubt. Heaven is no fable. Even now
we have our foretaste of its refreshing waters and the fruits that
are for the healing of the nations.

The spies were to climb the hills which commanded a view of the
promised land. And there are heights which must be scaled if we are
to have previsions of the heavenly life. Men undertake to forecast
the future of the human race who have never sought those heights.
They may have gone out from camp a few miles or even some days'
journey, but they have kept in the plain. One is devoted to science,
and he sees as the land of promise a region in which science shall
achieve triumphs hitherto only dreamt of, when the ultimate atoms
shall disclose their secrets and the subtle principle of life shall
be no longer a mystery. The social reformer sees his own schemes in
operation, some new adjustment of human relations, some new economy
or system of government, the establishment of an order that shall
make the affairs of the world run smoothly, and banish want and care
and possibly disease from the earth. But these and similar previsions
are not from the heights. We have to climb quite above the earthly
and temporal, above economics and scientific theories. Where the way
of faith rises, where the love of men becomes perfect in the love of
God, not in theory but in the practical endeavour of earnest life,
there we ascend, we advance. We shall see the coming kingdom of God
only if we are heartily with God in the ardour of the redeemed soul,
if we follow in the footsteps of Christ to the summits of Sacrifice.

The spies went forth from among tribes which had so far made a good
journey under the Divine guidance. So well had the expedition sped that
a few days' march would have brought the travellers into Canaan. But
Israel was not a hopeful people nor a united people. The thoughts of
many turned back; all were not faithful to God nor loyal to Moses. And
as the people were, so were the spies. Some may have professed to be
enthusiastic who had their doubts regarding Canaan and the possibility
of conquering it. Others may have even wished to find difficulties
that would furnish an excuse for returning even to Egypt. Most were
ready to be disenchanted at least and to find cause for alarm. In the
south of Canaan a pastoral district, rocky and uninviting towards the
shore of the Dead Sea, was found to be sparsely occupied by wandering
companies of Amalekites, Bedawin of the time, probably with a look
of poverty and hardship that gave little promise for any who should
attempt to settle where they roamed. Towards Hebron the aspect of
the country improved; but the ancient city, or at all events its
stronghold, was in the hands of a class of bandits whose names inspired
terror throughout the district--Ahiman, Sheshai, and Talmai, sons of
Anak. The great stature of these men, exaggerated by common report,
together with stories of their ferocity, seem to have impressed the
timid Hebrews beyond measure. And round Hebron the Amorites, a hardy
highland race, were found in occupation. The report agreed on was that
the people were men of great stature; that the land was one which ate
up its inhabitants--that is to say, yielded but a precarious existence.
Just beyond Hebron vineyards and olive-groves were found; and from the
valley of Eshcol one fine cluster of grapes was brought, hung upon a
rod to preserve the fruit from injury, an evidence of capabilities that
might be developed. Still the report was an evil one on the whole.

Those who went farther north had to tell of strong peoples--the
Jebusites and Amorites of the central region, the Hittites of the
north, the Canaanites of the seaboard, where afterwards Sisera had
his headquarters. The cities, too, were great and walled. These
spies had nothing to say of the fruitful plains of Esdraelon and
Jezreel, nothing to tell of the flowery meadows, the "murmuring of
innumerable bees," the terraced vineyards, the herds of cattle and
flocks of sheep and goats. They had seen the strong, resolute holders
of the soil, the fortresses, the difficulties; and of these they
brought back an account which caused abundant alarm. Joshua and Caleb
alone had the confidence of faith, and were assured that Jehovah, if
He delighted in His people, would give them Canaan as an inheritance.

The report of the majority of the spies was one of exaggeration and
a certain untruthfulness. They must have spoken altogether without
knowledge, or else allowed themselves to magnify what they saw, when
they said of the children of Anak, "We were in our own sight as
grasshoppers, and so we were in their sight." Possibly the Hebrews
were at this time somewhat ill-developed as a race, bearing the mark
of their slavery. But we can hardly suppose that the Amorites, much
less the Hittites, were of overpassing stature. Nor could many cities
have been so large and strongly fortified as was represented, though
Lachish, Hebron, Shalim, and a few others were formidable. On the
other hand, the picture had none of the attractiveness it should
have borne. These exaggerations and defects, however, are the common
faults of misbelieving and therefore ignorant representation. Are
any disposed to leave the wilderness of the world and possess the
better country? A hundred voices of the baser kind will be heard
giving warning and presage. Nothing is said about its spiritual
fruit, its joy, hope, and peace. But its hardships are detailed, the
renunciations, the obligations, the conflicts necessary before it can
be possessed. Who would enter on the hopeless task of trying to cast
out the strong man armed, who sits entrenched--of holding at bay the
thousand forces that oppose the Christian life? Each position must
be taken after a sore struggle and kept by constant watchfulness.
Little know they who think of becoming religious how hard it is to be
Christians. It is a life of gloom, of constant penitence for failures
that cannot be helped, a life of continual trembling and terror. So
the reports go that profess to be those of experience and knowledge,
of men and women who understand life.

Observe also that the account given by those who reconnoitred the
land of promise sprang from an error which has its parallel now. The
spies went supposing that the Israelites were to conquer Canaan and
dwell there purely for their own sake, for their own happiness and
comfort. Had not the wilderness journey been undertaken for that
end? It did not enter into the consideration either of the people as
a whole or of their representatives that they were bound for Canaan
in order to fulfil the Divine purpose of making Israel a means of
blessing to the world. Here, indeed, a spirituality of view was
needful which the spies could not be expected to have. Breadth of
foresight, too, would have been required which in the circumstances
scarcely lay within human power. If any of them had taken account of
Israel's spiritual destiny as a witness for Jehovah in the midst of
the heathen, could they have told whether this land of Syria or some
other would be a fit theatre for the fulfilment of that high destiny?

And in ignorance like theirs lies the source of mistakes often made
in judging the circumstances of life, in deciding what will be wisest
and best to undertake. We, too, look at things from the point of view
of our own happiness and comfort, and, in a higher range, of our
religious enjoyment. If we see that these are to be had in a certain
sphere, by a certain movement or change, we decide on that change, we
choose that sphere. But if neither temporal well-being nor enjoyment
of religious privilege appears to be certain, our common practice is
to turn in another direction. Yet the truth is that we are not here,
and we shall never be anywhere, either in this world or another,
simply to enjoy, to have the milk and honey of a smiling land, to
fulfil our own desires and live to ourselves. The question regarding
the fit place or state for us depends for its answer on what God
means to do through us for our fellow-men, for the truth, for His
kingdom and glory. The future which we with greater or less success
attempt to conquer and secure will, as the Divine hand leads us on,
prove different from our dream in proportion as our lives are capable
of high endeavour and spiritual service. We shall have our hope, but
not as we painted it.

Who are the Calebs and Joshuas of our time? Not those who, forecasting
the movements of society, see what they think shall be for their
people a region of comfort and earthly prosperity, to be maintained by
shutting out as far as possible the agitation of other lands; but those
who realise that a nation, especially a Christian nation, has a duty
under God to the whole human race. Those are our true guides and come
with inspiration who bid us not be afraid in undertaking the world-wide
task of commending truth, establishing righteousness, seeking the
enfranchisement and Christianisation of all lands.

Notwithstanding the efforts of Caleb and afterwards of Joshua to
controvert the disheartening reports spread by their companions, the
people were filled with dismay; and night fell upon a weeping camp.
The pictures of those Anakim and of the tall Amorites, rendered
more terrible by imagination, appear to have had most to do with the
panic. But it was the general impression also that Canaan offered no
attractions as a home. There was murmuring against Moses and Aaron.
Disaffection spread rapidly, and issued in the proposal to take
another leader and return to Egypt. Why had Jehovah brought them
across the desert to put them under the sword at last? The tumult
increased, and the danger of a revolt became so great that Moses and
Aaron fell on their faces before the assembly.

Always and everywhere _faithless_ means foolish, _faithless_ means
cowardly. By this is explained the dejection and panic into which the
Israelites fell, into which men often fall. Our life and history are
not confided to the Divine care; our hope is not in God. Nothing can
save a man or a nation from vacillation, despondency, and defeat but
the conviction that Providence opens the way and never fails those
who press on. No doubt there are considerations which might have made
Israel doubtful whether the conquest of Canaan lay in the way of duty.
Some modern moralists would call it a great crime--would say that
the tribes could look for no success in endeavouring to dispossess
the inhabitants of Canaan, or even to find a place among them. But
this thought did not enter into the question. Panic fell on the host,
because doubt of Jehovah and His purpose overcame the partial faith
which had as yet been maintained with no small difficulty.

Now it was by the mouth of Moses Israel had been assured of the
promise of God. Broadly speaking, faith in Jehovah was faith in
Moses, who was their moralist, their prophet, their guide. Men
here and there, the seventy who prophesied for instance, had their
personal consciousness of the Divine power; but the great mass of
the people had the covenant, and trusted it through the mediation
of Moses. Had Moses then, as the Israelites could judge, a right
to command, unquestionable authority as a revealer of the will of
the unseen God? Take away from the history every incident, every
feature, that may appear doubtful, and there remains a personality, a
man of distinguished unselfishness, of admirable patience, of great
sagacity, who certainly was a patriot, and as certainly had greater
conceptions, higher enthusiasms, than any other man of Israel. It
was perhaps difficult for those who were gross in nature and very
ignorant to realise that Moses was indeed in communication with an
unseen, omnipotent Friend of the people. Some might even have been
disposed to say: What if he is? What can God do for us? If we are
to get anything, we must seek and obtain it for ourselves. Yet the
Israelites as a whole held the almost universal belief of those
times, the conviction that a Power above the visible world does rule
the affairs of earth. And there was evidence enough that Moses was
guided and sustained by the Divine hand. The sagacious mind, the
brave, noble personality of Moses, made for Israel, at least for
every one in Israel capable of appreciating character and wisdom, a
bridge between the seen and the unseen, between man and God.

We must not indeed deny that this conviction was liable to challenge
and revision. It must always be so when a man speaks for God,
represents God. Doubt of the wisdom of any command meant doubt whether
God had really given it by Moses. And when it seemed that the tribes
had been unwisely brought to Canaan, the reflection might be that Moses
had failed as an interpreter. Yet this was not the common conclusion.
Rather, from all we learn, was it the conclusion that Jehovah Himself
had failed the people or deceived them. And there lay the error of
unbelief which is constantly being committed still.

For us, whatever may be said as to the composition of the Bible, it
is supremely, and as no other sacred book can be, the Word of God. As
Moses was the one man in Israel who had a right to speak in Jehovah's
name, so the Bible is the one book which can claim to instruct us in
faith, duty, and hope. Speaking to us in human language, it may of
course be challenged. At one point and another, some even of those
who believe in Divine communication to men may question whether the
Bible writers have always caught aright the sound of the heavenly
Word. And some go so far as to say: There is no Divine Voice; men
have given as the Word of God, in good faith, what arose in their
own mind, their own exalted imagination. Nevertheless, our faith, if
faith we are to have at all, must rest on this Book. We cannot get
away from human words. We must rely on spoken or written language
if we are to know anything higher than our own thought. And what is
written in the Bible has the highest marks of inspiration--wisdom,
purity, truth, power to convince and convert and to build up a life
in holiness and in hope.

It remains true accordingly that doubt of the Bible means for us,
must mean, not simply doubt of the men who have been instrumental
in giving us the Book, but doubt of God Himself. If the Bible did
not speak in harmony with nature and reason and the widest human
experience when it lays down moral law, prescribes the true rules and
unfolds the great principles of life, the affirmation just made would
be absurd. But it is a book of breadth, full of wisdom which every
age is verifying. It stands an absolute, the manifest embodiment
of knowledge drawn from the highest sources available to men--from
sources not earthly nor temporary, but sublime and eternal. Faith,
therefore, must have its foundation on the teaching of this Book as
to "what man is to believe concerning God and what duty God requires
of man." And on the other hand infidelity is and must be the result
of rejecting the revelation of the Bible, denying that here God
speaks with supreme wisdom and authority to our souls.

The Israelites doubting Jehovah who had spoken through Moses, that
is to say, doubting the highest, most inspiring word it was possible
for them to hear, turning away from the Divine reason that spoke,
the heavenly purpose revealed to them, had nothing to rely upon.
Confused inadequate counsels, chaotic fears, waited immediately upon
their revolt. They sank at once to despondency and the most fatuous
and impossible projects. The men who stood against their despair were
made offenders, almost sacrificed to their fear. Joshua and Caleb,
facing the tumult, called for confidence. "Fear not ye the people of
the land," they said, "for they are bread for us: their defence is
removed from over them, and Jehovah is with us: fear them not." But
all the congregation bade stone them with stones; and it was only
the bright glow of the pillar of fire shining out at the moment that
prevented a dreadful catastrophe.

So the faithless generations fall back still into panic, fatuity,
and crime. Trusting in their resources, men say, "No change need
trouble us; we have courage, wisdom, power, sufficient for our
needs." But have they unity, have they any scheme of life for which
it is worth while to be courageous? The hope of bare continuance,
of ignoble safety and comfort will not animate, will not inspire.
Only some great vision of Duty seen along the track of the eternally
right will kindle the heart of a people; the faith that goes with
that vision will alone sustain courage. Without it, armies and
battle-ships are but a temporary and flimsy defence, the pretext of a
self-confidence, while the heart is clouded with despair. Whether men
say, We will return to Egypt, refusing the call of Providence which
bids us fulfil a high destiny, or, still refusing to fulfil it, We
will maintain ourselves in the wilderness--they have in secret the
conviction that they are failures, that their national organisation
is a hollow pretence. And the end, though it may linger for a time,
will be dismemberment and disaster.

Modern nations, nominally Christian, are finding it difficult to
suppress disorder, and occasionally we are almost thrown into a state
of panic by the activity of revolutionists. Does the cause not lie
in this, that the _en avant_ of Providence and Christianity is not
obeyed either in the politics or social economy of the people? Like
Israel, a nation has been led so far through the wilderness, but
advance can only be into a new order which faith perceives, to which
the voice of God calls. If it is becoming a general conclusion that
there is no such country, or that the conquest of it is impossible,
if many are saying, Let us settle in the wilderness, and others, Let
us return to Egypt, what can the issue be but confusion? This is to
encourage the anarchist, the dynamiter. The enterprise of humanity,
according to such counsels, is so far a failure, and for the future
there is no inspiring hope. And to make economic self-seeking the
governing idea of a nation's movement is simply to abandon the true
leader and to choose another of some ignominious order. Would it
have been possible to persuade Moses to hold the command of the
tribes, and yet remain in the desert or return to Egypt? Neither is
it possible to retain Christ as our captain and also to make this
world our home, or return to a practical heathenism, relieved by
abundance of food, the Hellenic worship of beauty, the organisation
of pleasure. For the great enterprise of spiritual redemption alone
will Christ be our leader. We lose Him if we turn to the hopes of
this world and cease to press the journey towards the city of God.




                                  XII

                     _THE DOOM OF THE UNBELIEVING_

                              NUMBERS xiv


The spirit of revolt which came to a head in the proposal to put
Joshua and Caleb to death was quelled by the fiery splendour that
flashed out at the tent of meeting; but disaffection continued, and
Moses realised with horror that immediate destruction threatened the
tribes. Jehovah would smite them with pestilence, disinherit them,
and raise up a new nation greater and mightier than they. Moses
himself should be the father of the destined race.

The thought was one at which an ambitious man would have grasped; and
to entertain it might well seem a good man's duty. In what better way
could one of earnest and courageous spirit serve the world and the
Divine purpose of grace? Moses stood as a representative of Abraham,
to whom the promise had been first given, and of Jacob, to whom it
had been renewed. If the will of Heaven was that a fresh beginning
in the old succession should be made, the honour was not lightly to
be put aside. Moses now saw, as Abraham saw, a great possibility.
The Divine purpose did not fail, though Israel proved unfit to serve
it; in the field of a more instructed age that magnificent hope
which made Abraham great would blossom more generously and yield
its fruit of blessing. With the sense of this possible honour to
himself, there came, however, to Moses other and arresting thoughts.
For Abraham had become great by sacrifice, and only one spiritually
greater even than he could found a worthier race. Did Moses not think
of that scene on Moriah, when the son of the promise lay stretched
on the altar, and feel himself inspired for a sacrifice of his own?
Yet what could it be? Nothing but the silent inward refusal of that
great honour which was being put in his power, the honour of becoming
even higher than Abraham in the line of originators. True, it seemed
that necessity was laid on him. Yet might not Jehovah intervene on
Israel's behalf as once before on Isaac's, when the moment of his
death had almost come? Not to sacrifice Israel was the call Moses
heard when he listened in the silence, but to sacrifice his own hope,
though it seemed to be pressed on him by Providence. And this began
to prove itself the necessity. On the one hand he could not hide
the fear that even if the Israelites were settled in Canaan a long
period of education would be required to fit them for national life
and power; after many generations they would be still incapable of
any high spiritual task. But if Israel perished, what would happen?
The faith of Jehovah, already established as an influence in the
world, would fall into abeyance. When doom fell on Israel, the
Egyptians would hear of it, Canaan would hear of it. The desert, the
valley of the Nile, the hills of the Promised Land, would ring with
the exultant cry that Jehovah had failed. And then--how long would
the world have to wait till this seeming defeat could be retrieved?
Century after century had passed since Abraham left his own land
to fulfil the vocation of God. Century after century would have to
pass before the sons of Moses could attain to any greatness, any
power to move the world. The instrument Jehovah had meanwhile to use
was imperfect; the tribes were not like a strong two-edged sword
in the hand of the King. Yet they existed; they could be used, and
Divine might, Divine grace, could overcome their imperfection. Ere
the world grew older in ignorance and idolatry, Moses would have the
heavenly purpose wrought. For this he will renounce, for this he must
renounce, the honour possible to himself. Let Jehovah do all.

His choice made, Moses intercedes with God. The prayer has an air of
simple anthropomorphism. He appears to plead that Jehovah should not
imperil His own fame. The underlying thought is partly concealed by
the form of expression; but the meaning is clear. It is the dawning
power of the religion of God for which Moses is concerned. He would
not have that lost to men which by the events of the exodus and the
wilderness journey has been so far secured. Egypt is half persuaded;
Canaan is beginning to see that Jehovah is greater than Anubis and
Thoth, than Moloch and Baal. Was that impression to fade and to be
succeeded by doubt, possibly contempt of Jehovah as Israel's God.
He had brought His people into the wilderness, but He could not
establish them in Canaan; therefore He slew them: if that were said,
would not the loss to mankind be incalculable? "Thou, Jehovah, art
seen face to face, and Thy cloud standeth over them, and Thou goest
before them in a pillar of cloud by day, and in a pillar of fire by
night." The astonished lands have seen this; let them not return with
greater trust than ever to their own poor idols.

In the report of Moses' intercession words are quoted which were part
of the revelation of the Divine character at Sinai: "Jehovah slow to
anger, and plenteous in mercy, forgiving iniquity and transgression,
and that will by no means clear the guilty; visiting the iniquity of
the fathers upon the children, upon the third and fourth generation."
The prayer quoting these latter clauses is abundantly sincere; and
it proceeds on the belief that mercy rather than judgment is the
delight of God. The greatness of the Divine compassion already shown
time after time since the people left Egypt is still relied upon. And
the desire of Moses is granted so far as it is in harmony with the
character and purpose of God. "Thou wast a God that forgavest them,
though Thou tookest vengeance of their doings" (Psalm xcix. 8).

Jehovah says, "I have pardoned according to My word." The national sin
is not to be visited with destruction of the nation. No pestilence
shall exterminate the murmurers, nor shall they be left without the
guidance of Moses and of the cloud to melt away in the plagues of
the wilderness. But yet the power of Jehovah shall be shown in their
punishment; the manner of it shall be such that the earth shall be
filled with the glory of the Lord. The men who came out of Egypt and
have tempted Jehovah ten times shall never see Canaan. Their carcases
shall fall in the desert. For forty years shall the Israelites wander
as shepherds till the evil generation shall have disappeared.

Divine Providence judges the pusillanimity of men. Their fear
deprives them of that which is offered and actually put within their
grasp. They prove themselves incapable when the time of decisive
endeavour comes, and a new generation must arise before the ripeness
of circumstance again opens the way. The case of the Israelites
shows that rebuke and disappointment are necessary in the Divine
discipline of human life. Defects of character, of faith, are not
overborne by a _tour de force_ in order that the development of
a heavenly purpose may be hastened. It would indeed cease to be
a heavenly purpose, if with easy forgiveness God gave miraculous
success. The result would be no gain in the long-run to any good
cause. If men fail, God can wait for others who shall not fail. We
are apt to forget this; we think that we show proper trust in the
fulness of Divine pardon when we insist that men who have erred and
been forgiven, who have faithlessly missed their opportunity and
passed through penitence into new zeal, shall be hurried on to the
duties they refused to face. But now, as in the times of Israel, the
law of adequate discipline forbids, the law of punishment forbids.
Humanity is not to be cheated of its Divine instruction, nor shall
any pretext of generosity or necessity be urged in order that certain
men may enter a Canaan they once refused to possess. We see a term
set to a probation.

Does it appear an inordinate punishment, this denial of Canaan to the
unbelieving? There is no need to think so. For the men and women who
held back in doubt of God, the wilderness, quite as well as Canaan,
would serve the main end, to teach them trust. Life went on still
under the protection of the Almighty. The desert was His, as well as
the land flowing with milk and honey. Yea, in the desert they had,
being such as they were, fewer temptations to question the power of
God and their own need of Him than they would have found in the land
of promise. May we not say that men who had been so ready to receive
an evil report of the land would have been confirmed in their doubt
of Jehovah if they had been allowed to cross the frontier? Better for
them to remain in the desert that made no pretence to be anything
else, than to enter Canaan and find excuses for calling it a desert.
No individual was prevented from learning to know God and trust Him;
of that we may be sure. The way of instruction was that of penitence
and sorrow and continued hardships. But there would have been no
other way for those unbelievers even if they had entered on the
promised inheritance. In Canaan, as well as in the desert, they would
have had to learn contrition, to advance in moral life by means of
temporal hardships and defeat.

And there was a limitation of the judgment. Only those from twenty
years old and upward were included. The young men and young women,
presumably because they had not bewailed their lot and cried against
Moses and God, having too much of the hopeful spirit of youth, were
not condemned to die in the wilderness. A difference was there, and
by the terms of the deliverance was made clear, which often comes
to light in human history. The old, who should know most of the
goodness of God and His unfailing power, draw back; the young and
inexperienced are ready to advance. Men who are occupied with affairs
tend to think that their wise management brings success, and they
place Divine Providence secondary to their own wisdom. Shall we be
able for this? they ask. Does this approve itself to us as men of
the world, responsible men? If not, they think it would be folly to
go forward even at the call of God. But the young are not so wise in
their own experience; they are in the mood to dare: the young and the
trustful--men like Joshua and Caleb, who have learned that power and
success are of God, and that His way is always safe. To calculate
and act on the basis of expediency is not the failing of the young.
Let us pray for men who have faith in the future of humanity and
of the Church to stand forth and rally about them the youths, not
spoiled by overwise theories of life, who have still in their souls
the heavenly instinct of hope.

Caleb has here and elsewhere in the history peculiar honour, all
the more remarkable that he was, properly speaking, no Israelite.
The narrative at this point associates his family with the tribe of
Judah. But Caleb was a Kenizzite (Numb. xxxii. 12); and Kenaz appears
in Gen. xxxvi. 11, 15, as an Edomite or descendant of Esau. At what
time this particular Kenizzite family joined the expedition of Israel
we have no hint. As yet, however, there was no inter-marriage; and
it should be noticed that the district which in consideration of his
fidelity Caleb has for his inheritance in Canaan is the same as was
occupied by Kenizzites before the conquest. There is, of course, no
improbability in this; it may rather appear to give proof of the
genuineness of the narrative. Caleb joins the Israelites, attaches
himself to Judah in the camp and on the march, proves himself a
faithful servant of God and of the host, and has the promise of his
forefathers' inheritance when the distribution of Canaan shall be
made. He reported favourably of the region about Hebron; and Hebron
became his city, as we learn from Josh. xiv.

In contrast to the special promise made to Joshua and Caleb is the
fate of the other ten whose report brought "a slander upon the
land." These "died by the plague before Jehovah." It would seem that
before Moses appealed to God on behalf of the people, the pestilence
was spreading which might have swept the Israelites down like
Sennacherib's army in after-times. And the ten false spies had been
among the first to die. Little indeed know men how soon Providence
will convict them of their faithlessness and rebellion. Let us
save our lives, they say, by holding back from duties that involve
difficulty and danger. Why advance where we are sure to fall by the
sword? But the sword finds them nevertheless, or the plague lays hold
of them; and where then is the life they were so careful to preserve?
The men of Israel who said, "Let us not go to Canaan, but return to
Egypt," neither see Canaan nor Egypt. They gain nothing they desire;
they lose all they were so careful to keep.

Suddenly at ver. 40 we are brought to a new development. The people
no sooner hear their doom than they resolve to take the future into
their own hands. They acknowledge that they have sinned, meaning,
however, only that they have fallen into a mistake the consequence
of which they had not foreseen; and with this inadequate confession
of fault they decide to make the advance into Canaan forthwith. They
do not see that instead of recovering their hope in God by any such
attempt they will really deepen the alienation between themselves and
Him. Submission is indeed hard, but it is their one grace, their one
duty. If they press on into Canaan, they must go without the Lord, as
Moses warns them, and they shall not prosper.

It is not enough when men have discovered an evil heart of unbelief,
and turned again in repentance, that they take up the thread of life
which has become ravelled. Perverse faithlessness cannot be cured by
a sudden decision to resume the duty which was abandoned in fear. The
refusal was no superficial thing, but had its source in the springs
of will, the character and habits of life. We are apt to judge
otherwise, and to suppose that we can alter the whole current of our
nature by a single act of choice. To-day the trend is strongly in one
direction, along a channel which has been forming for many years;
to-morrow we think it possible to become other men, strong where we
were weak, determined upon that which we abhorred. But something must
intervene; some change must take place deeper than our impulse. We
must have the new heart and the right spirit; and in proportion to
the gravity of the situation and the importance of the duty to be
done must the time of discipline be long. The wilderness wandering
had to be for many years because the temper of a whole people was to
be altered. For a single person a far shorter ordeal may suffice.
He may pass through the stages of conviction, repentance, and new
creation in a few weeks or even days. Nay, sometimes the regenerating
Spirit brings about the change apparently in a moment. Yet the rule
is that stability in faith must come slowly, that the way of trial
cannot be hastened. A great task, therefore, the right doing of which
is necessary to the open vindication of religion, may not be gone
about in a sudden change of mind. We are not to take lightly, into
untried hands, the massive plough of the kingdom of God.

In Canaan, the Amalekites and Canaanites, Moses said, would dispute
the advance of Israel,--Amalekites skilled in desultory war,
Canaanites long trained in military art. These would fight without
any sense of the support of the true God. But how would the Hebrews
speed, meeting them on the same footing? The contest would be then
between human skill and daring on either side; and there could be
no doubt as to the issue. Bands of men acquainted with the country,
disciplined in war as the tribes of Israel were not, fighting for
their fields and homes with a defence of walled cities to fall back
upon, would certainly win. If the Hebrews went up, it would be
without the sign of Jehovah's presence; the ark of the covenant could
not be borne with the army on such an expedition. Their attempt,
being presumptuous, must end in disaster.

Too often the conflicts in which the Church is involved are of this
very kind. There is profession of high moral design and Christian
principle. Ostensibly it is for the sake of true religion that
something is undertaken. But in reality the affair is not one
that belongs to the essence of faith. It is perhaps a question of
prestige, of exclusive claim to certain rights or moneys, the very
last thing a Christian church should insist upon. Then the contest is
between human diplomacy and resolution, whether on the one side or
the other. It is idle to call a campaign like this a holy war. The
ark of the covenant does not accompany the army that calls itself
Jehovah's. As Israel found that even Amalekites and Canaanites were
too strong for her, so has the Church often found that men whom she
termed unbelievers were superior to her in the arms she chose to
use. Again and again have her forces had to retire smitten even unto
Hormah. For those who are called unbelievers and atheists have their
rights; and they will always be able to maintain their rights against
a presumptuous church which "goes up into the mountain" without the
sanction of its living Head.

It was no general advance of the tribes that on this occasion
ended in defeat. The solid, resolute march of the whole people was
a very different thing from the half-hearted sally of some hundreds
of fighting men. When the host of the Israelites, men, women, and
children, moved together, the men of war had support in the sympathy
of those they defended, in the prayers of the priest and of the
people. They were nerved to play the part of heroes by the thought
that all depended upon them, that if they failed their wives and
children would be put to the sword. And again there is a parallel in
the advance of the Church against her adversaries. If the officials
only go out to fight, if it is their affair, their expedition, if
there is no strong onward movement of the whole host, what is there
to give support to the enterprise? The fighting men may seem to
have heart enough for their battle; but the underlying feeling that
they are not engaged in the defence of the Gospel itself, or in
guarding any position on which the power and success of the Gospel
depend, must always, and properly, weaken their arms. There is all
the difference in the world between an ecclesiastical battle and the
contest for vital faith. And it is a matter of regret that so much
of the strength and ardour of good men should be wasted in downright
earthly fighting, when the feeling of the Church as a whole is not
with those who claim to be her army. Let all the tribes, that is
to say all the churches of Christ that are of one mind as to vital
truth, advance together, without jealousy, without mutual contempt,
and the opposition to Christianity will practically melt away.

From the twenty-first chapter, which appears to open with a
reminiscence of the first attack on Canaan, we gather that one of
those who opposed the expedition was the Canaanite King of Arad.
The advance appears therefore to have been made by way of Hezron
and Beersheba. The mountains visible from the camp were likely the
chalk hills beyond the "Ascent of Akrabbim." These passed, probably
near Hezron, a valley opened, stretching away towards Hebron. The
Amalekites gathering from every wady, and the Canaanites from the
ridge to the right, where Arad lay, seem to have fallen upon the
Hebrews with a sudden onset. While many escaped others were slain or
taken captive. A keen memory of the defeat survived; but it was not
till long afterwards, in the days of the judges, that the strongholds
of the region were reduced.




                                  XIII

                  _OFFERINGS: SABBATH-KEEPING: DRESS_

                               NUMBERS xv


The enactments of this chapter regarding meal offerings and drink
offerings, the heave offerings of the first dough, and the atonement
for unwitting errors belong to the cultus of Canaan. Nothing generic
distinguishes the first and third of these statutes from some that
were presumably to be observed in the desert; but the note is
explicit, "When ye be come into the land of your habitations which
I give unto you," "When ye be come into the land whither I bring
you." The whole chapter, with its instance of presumptuous sin
introduced by the clause, "And while the children of Israel were in
the wilderness," marking a return to that time, and its commandment
regarding the fringes or tassels of blue to be attached to the dress
as remembrancers of obligations, may appear at first sight without
any reference either to what has preceded or what follows. The
compilers, however, have a definite purpose in view. The presumption
of Korah and his company, and of Dathan and Abiram, is in contrast
to the unwitting faults for which atonement is provided, and it
comes under the category of what is "done with a high hand"--a form
of blasphemy which is to be punished with death. The case of the
Sabbath-breaker is an instance of this unpardonable sin, and sends
its light on to the incidents that follow. Even the memorial fringes
or tassels, and the prophetic sentences that accompany the command to
wear them, seem to be forewarnings of the doom of sacrilegious men.


1. MEAL AND DRINK OFFERINGS.--The statute regarding offerings "to make
a sweet savour unto Jehovah" is specially occupied with prescribing the
proportion of flour and oil and wine to be presented along with the
animal brought for a burnt offering or sacrifice. Any one separating
himself in terms of a vow, or desiring to express gratitude for some
Divine favour, or again on the occasion of a sacred festival when he
had special cause of rejoicing before God, might bring a lamb, a ram,
or an ox as his oblation; and the meal and drink offerings were to vary
with the value of the animal brought for sacrifice. The law does not
demand the same offering of every person under similar circumstances.
According to his means or his gratitude he may give. But deciding first
as to his burnt or slain offering, he must add to it, for a lamb, the
tenth of an ephah of fine flour mixed with a quarter of a hin of oil,
and also a quarter of a hin of wine. For a bullock, the quantities were
to be three-tenths of an ephah of fine flour, with half a hin of oil,
and, as a drink offering, half a hin of wine.

The provision is a singular one, based on some sense of what was
becoming which we cannot pretend to revive. But it points to a rule
which the Apostle Paul may have recognised in this and other Jewish
statutes as belonging to universal morality: "Take thought for things
honourable in the sight of all men." To make a show of generosity
by giving a bullock, while the flour and oil and wine were withheld,
was not seemly. Neither is it seemly for a Christian to be lavish in
his gifts to the Church, but withhold the meal offering and drink
offering he owes to the poor. Throughout the whole range of use
and expenditure, personal and of the family, a proportion is to be
found which it is one of the Christian arts to determine, one of
the Christian duties to observe. And nothing is right unless all is
right. The penny saved here takes away the sweet savour of the pound
given there. No man is in this to be a law to himself. Public justice
and Divine are to be satisfied.

The presence or absence of oil in an oblation marked its character.
The sin offering and the jealousy offering were without oil. The
"oil of joy" (Isa. lxi. 3) accompanied festal and peace offerings.
All ordinances prescribing the oblation of wine and oil necessarily
belonged to the cultus of Canaan, for in the wilderness neither
of these elements of the sacrifice could be always had. The idea
underlying the peace offerings, with their accompanying meal and
drink offerings, was unquestionably that of feasting with Jehovah,
enjoying His bounty at His table. Acknowledgment was made that the
cattle on the hills were His, that it was He who gave the harvest,
the vintage, and the fruit of the olive-grove. Confession of man's
indebtedness to Jehovah as Lord of nature was interwoven with the
whole sacrificial system.

In connection with this ordinance of meal and drink offerings, and
that of atonement for unintentional failures in duty (ver. 22 ff.),
it is very carefully enacted that the law shall be the same for the
"homeborn" and the "stranger." "For the assembly there shall be
one statute for you and for the stranger that sojourneth with you,
a statute for ever throughout your generations: as ye are, so shall
the stranger be before the Lord." The design is to secure religious
unity, and by means of it gradually to incorporate with Israel all
dwellers in the land. While certain ordinances were intended to make
Israel a holy nation separated and consecrated to Jehovah, this
admission of strangers to the privileges of the covenant has another
design. In the Book of Deuteronomy (vii. 2) a statute occurs that
entirely excludes from citizenship and incorporation all Canaanites,
Hittites, Jebusites, Amorites, Hivites, Girgashites, and Perizzites.
There was to be no intermarriage with them, no toleration of them,
lest they led Israel away into idolatry. The statute is enforced by
the words, "For thou art an holy people unto the Lord thy God: the
Lord thy God hath chosen thee to be a peculiar people unto Himself,
above all peoples that are upon the face of the earth." With this
emphatic assertion of the severance of the Hebrews from other races
the strain of Numbers, as well as Exodus and Leviticus, generally
agrees. When we endeavour to harmonise with it the admission of
strangers to the right and joy of sacrificial festivals, we at
once meet the difficulty that no other races were fitter to be
received into religious confraternity than those of Canaan. Neither
Babylonians, Syrians, Phœnicians, nor Philistines were free from the
taint of idolatry; and however degrading the rites of the Canaanites
were, some of the other nations followed practices quite as revolting.

We know that for a long period of Israel's history strangers were,
according to the statute presently under consideration, admitted to the
fellowship of religion, as well as to high office in the state. "We
have only to study the Book of Joshua to discover that the Israelites,
like the Saxons in Britain, destroyed the cities and not the population
of the country, and that the number of cities actually overthrown was
not very large. We have only to turn to the list of the 'mighty men' of
David to learn how many of them were foreigners, Hittites, Ammonites,
Zobahites, and even Philistines of Gath (2 Sam. xv. 18, 19; vi. 10).
Nor must it be forgotten that David himself was partly a Moabite by
descent."[6] In accordance with this large tolerance we might be
disposed to include among the "strangers" admitted to privilege men
belonging to races that inhabited Canaan before the conquest. Even
Deuteronomy seems in one passage to exclude none but Ammonites and
Moabites; and the covenant law of Exod. xxiii. commands generous
treatment of the stranger. In contrast to the "homeborn," strangers
may appear to mean those only who had come from other countries and
chosen to identify themselves with the faith and fortunes of Israel;
still this passage attempts no such definition, and on the whole
we must allow that the Mosaic law in regulating the political and
social position of resident non-Israelites showed "a spirit of great
liberality." They had, of course, to conform to many laws--those, for
instance, of marriage, and those which forbade the eating of blood and
the flesh of animals not properly slaughtered. If uncircumcised, they
could not keep the Passover; but being circumcised, they had equal
rights with the Hebrews. The purpose evidently was to make an open way
to the benefits of Israel's government and religion.

The heave offering of the first dough is placed (ver. 20) side by
side with the heave offering of the threshing-floor of the first
sheaves. In Leviticus (xxiii. 17) a harvest oblation is ordered--two
wave-loaves of fine flour baken with leaven. Here the heave offering
of a cake made from the first dough is not accompanied with
sacrifices of animals, but is of a simple kind, mainly a tribute to
the priests. The Deuteronomic statute regarding firstfruits, which
were to be put in a basket and set down before the altar, prescribed
a formula of dedication beginning, "An Aramean ready to perish was
my father, and he went down into Egypt": and the offering of these
firstfruits was to be an occasion of joy--"Thou shalt rejoice in
all the good which the Lord thy God hath given unto thee and unto
thine house, thou and the Levite, and the stranger that is in the
midst of thee." There can be no question that the most developed
statute regarding these harvest offerings is that given in Leviticus,
where the exact time for the presentation of the loaves is fixed,
the fiftieth day after the Sabbath, from the day when the sheaf was
brought. The feast accompanying the offering of the loaves came to be
known as that of Pentecost.

Passing now to the law of atonement for unintentional omissions of
duty, we notice that the introductory sentences (vv. 22, 23) have a
peculiar retrospective cast. They seem to point back to the time when
the Lord gave commandment by the hand of Moses. It would appear that
in course of years discovery was made that portions of the law were
neglected, and the provisions of this statute were to relieve the
nation and individuals of accumulating defilement. "When ye shall err,
and not observe all these commandments, which the Lord hath spoken unto
Moses, even all that the Lord hath commanded you by the hand of Moses,
from the day that the Lord gave commandment, and onward throughout
your generations; then it shall be, if it be done unwittingly, without
the knowledge of the congregation"--so runs the preamble. A series
of statutes in Lev. iv. contemplates offences of a like kind, when
something has been done which the Lord commanded not to be done. The
enactment of Numbers appears to point to a "complete falling away of
the congregation from the whole of the law," an unconscious apostasy.
Maimonides understands the provision as relating to guilt incurred by
the people in adopting customs and usages of the heathen that seemed
to be reconcilable with the law of Jehovah, though they really led to
contempt and neglect of His commandments.[7]

For the nation as a whole, under these circumstances, atonement was
to be made by the burnt offering of a young bullock with its meal
offering and drink offering, and the sin offering of a he-goat. In
this purgation all strangers resident with Israel are specially
included. When any person discovered that he had neglected a precept,
he was to offer a she-goat of the first year for a sin offering.
The Israelite and the stranger alike had in this way access to the
sanctuary. But in contrast to unintentional omission of duty was set
deliberate neglect of it. For this there was no atonement. Whether
the high-handed transgressor was homeborn or a stranger, he was to be
utterly cut off as a blasphemer; his iniquity rested upon him. The
distinction is morally sound; and the punishment of the rebel against
authority--apparently nothing less than death, or perhaps, if he has
fled the land, outlawry--is such as the theocratic idea obviously
required. It was Jehovah Himself who was defied. A man who, as it
were, shook his fist in rebellion against God had no right to live in
His world, under the protection of His beneficent laws.

The distinction between unwitting neglect and open rejection runs
through the whole range of duty, natural, Hebrew, Christian. What
a man knows to be right he has before him as a Divine law of moral
conduct. By the highest obligations, under which he lies to the
Lord of conscience, to his fellow-men, and to himself, he is bound
to obey. Judaism added the authority of revelation--the Mosaic law,
the prophetic word. Christianity still further adds the authority
of the word spoken by the Son of God, and the obligation imposed by
His death as the manifestation of eternal love. In proportion as the
Divine will is made clear, and the law enforced by revelation and
grace, the sin of rejection becomes greater and more blasphemous.
But, on the other hand, the unwitting transgressor, be he heathen
or imperfectly instructed Christian, has under the new covenant, in
which mercy and justice go hand in hand, no less consideration than
the Hebrew who unintentionally erred. There is no law that cuts him
off from his people. Wide as this principle may reach, it must be
that according to which men are judged. Many, knowing the invisible
things of God "through the things that are made," are without excuse.
They "hold down the truth in unrighteousness"; they are high-handed
transgressors. But others who have no knowledge of the Divine law,
and break it unwittingly, have their atonement: God provides it. Nor
are we to impeach Divine Providence by judging before the time.

It may be asked, Why, since defiant rejection of Christian law is
more blasphemous than high-handed breach of the old Hebrew law, the
providence of God does not punish it? If any one with Christ and His
cross in view is guilty of injustice, or of hatred which is murder,
does he not prove himself unworthy to live in God's world? And why,
then, does he not suffer at once the doom of his rebellion? The
theory of some stern moralists has been that human government should
administer the justice of Heaven and cut off the unbeliever. In
many a notable case this has been done, and has caused a righteous
horror which continues to be felt. But although men cannot safely
undertake the punishment of such offenders, why does not God?
Christ boldly stated that here and now this is not the method of
the Divine government, but that men enjoy the Father's mercy even
when they are unjust, unthankful, and evil. Yet He spoke of judgment
universal--judgment and retribution that shall not miss a single
sinner, a single secret sin. And His view of the theocracy clearly
is that meanwhile God by mercy to the defiant desires to train men
in mercy, by forbearance towards the unthankful and evil commends
to us like patience and endurance. Transgressors are to have their
full opportunity of repentance, to which the very goodness of God
calls them. But justice which delays is not unobservant. Though He
who reigns moves slowly to His end, He will not fail to reach it.
"He hath appointed a day in the which He will judge the world in
righteousness." As for human law, its sphere is fixed. Society must
protect itself against crime, and is to do so in the name of God, in
conformity with the eternal principles of righteousness. The Hebrew
temper may seem to have carried this principle into a range that was
perilous to enter, as in the instance immediately to be considered;
yet the protection of society was even then the immediate motive, not
vain jealousy for the honour of God. For ourselves, we have a duty
which must be done without assumption or hypocrisy.

The various subjects of thought suggested here should be followed
out. For us, they are complicated on the social as well as the
religious side by certain theories that are in vogue. The duty of
civil government, for example, is on one side extended beyond its
proper range by the attempt to give it authority in the domain
of religious truth; on the other hand it is unduly restricted
by toleration of what is against the well-being of society. The
Christian moralist has much to ponder in relation to popular opinions
and the trend of modern legislation.


2. THE SABBATH-BREAKER.--If the actual sequence of events is followed
in the narrative of Numbers, it must have been after the condemnation
of the adult Israelites that judgment of the man who was found
infringing the Sabbath law had to be executed; and some who were
themselves under reprobation took part in convicting and punishing this
offender. There is a difficulty here which on high moral grounds it
is impossible to explain away. Disaffection and revolt had brought on
the mass of the people the sentence of destruction; and this had only
been exchanged on Moses' intercession for the forty years of wandering.
Should not sins that were visited with this penalty have excluded all
who were guilty of them from any judicial act? But the same objection
would, if admitted, prevent all of us from taking part in the execution
of law. Neither the judge nor the jury, neither those who legislate nor
those who administer law, are free from moral fault. The whole system
dealing with crime has this defect; and Israel in the wilderness was
as much entitled as modern society to take in hand the correction of
offenders, the maintenance of public well-being.

The law which had been broken was one specially connected with duty
to God. Sabbath-keeping might indeed seem to belong to worship rather
than to social morality. The seventh day was the Sabbath of Jehovah.
It was to be kept holy to Him, made a delight for His sake. The
statute regarding it belonged to the first table of the Decalogue.
Still, the commandment had a social as well as a religious side. In
goodwill to men Jehovah required the day to be kept holy to Him. Had
one and another like this offender been allowed to set aside the
fourth commandment, the interests of the whole congregation would
soon have suffered. It was for the good of the race, physically as
well as intellectually and spiritually, the Sabbath was to be kept.
Those who guarded the sanctity of the Sabbath were guarding not the
honour of God alone, though they may have thought that the chief
merit of their watchfulness, but the interests of the people, a
precious heritage of the nation.

It is not necessary to maintain that judgment was given by Moses
solely on the ground that the man who gathered sticks on the Sabbath
was an offender against the public well-being. The thought of
Jehovah's "jealousy" was constantly kept before the mind of Israel,
for by that idea, better than any other, beneficent legislation
was supported in a rude age; and judgment no doubt rested mainly
on this. Yet the interference of the people and their share in the
execution of punishment are to be justified by the undoubted fact
that Israel could not afford to let the Sabbath be lost. Even those
who were to a great extent earthly could perceive this. And if the
punishment seems disproportionate, we must remember that it was the
presumptuous temper of the man rather than his actual fault that was
judged criminal. St. James said, no doubt from this point of view,
"Whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he
is become guilty of all." The criminal act was that of breaking down,
with daring hand, the safeguard of social and religious prosperity.

And there is a sense in which without Pharisaism those who are
concerned for the public well-being may still insist on the strict
enforcement of the laws that guard the day of rest. Though all days
are alike sacred to spiritually minded persons, yet bodily health
and mental soundness are bound up more than men in general know with
the Sabbatic interval between labour and labour. The Puritanism
often scoffed at is far more philanthropic than the humanitarianism,
so-called, which derides it. And when any one enforces the duty of
Sabbath-keeping by insisting on God's claim to the seventh day, his
belief is no superstition. Convict him first of advocating what is
against the good of men, irrational, absurd, before venturing to
call him superstitious. If what is advanced as a claim of God can be
proved to be really for the good of men, it is a virtue to insist
that for God's sake as well as the sake of men it should be rendered.
There were persons in our Lord's time who made Sabbath-keeping a
superstition. Against them He testified. But it is in His name who
was the great Friend of men the Sabbath law is now insisted on; and
the day of rest has all the higher sanction that it commemorates His
resurrection from the dead, His promise of that new life which relief
from labour enables us to pursue.

The institution of the Sabbath and the scrupulous observance of it
were, for Israel, and are still for all believers in Divine religion,
most important means of maintaining unity in the faith. Now that many
causes interfere with the simultaneous exhibition of regard for other
symbols of Christian belief, the day of rest and worship gives a
universal opportunity which it would be fatal to neglect. It has the
advantage of beginning to claim men on the ground where religion first
appeals to them, that of God's care for their temporal well-being.
Those with whom religious feeling is quite elementary must see that a
boon of incalculable value is offered in this recurring refreshment
to the wearied body and strained mind. And with progress in religious
culture the benefit of the day of rest is found to advance. The
opportunities of worship, of religious meditation and service, which
it brings will be esteemed as the value of Christian fellowship, the
importance of Christian knowledge, and the duty of Christian endeavour
are successively understood. On all these grounds the Sabbath, or
Lord's Day, is for modern religion, as for that of the old covenant, a
great declaration, a means of unity and development which the spiritual
will earnestly uphold. Let it fail, and distinction between religious
and non-religious will be without a sign. No doubt the reality is more
by far than the symbol. Yet fellowship, for which in many cases the
Sabbath alone gives opportunity, is far more than a symbol; and unity
requires an outward manifestation. Nothing could be more perilous to
the religious life of our people than the tendency, shown by many
who profess Christianity and sanctioned by some of its teachers, to
make the Sabbath a day of self-pleasing, of mere individualism, and
incoherent secularity.


3. THE MEMORIAL TASSELS.--The unique sumptuary law with which the
chapter closes may be regarded as a sequence of the Sabbath-breaker's
conviction. That Israelites might never be without a reminder of
their duty, and of the Divine laws they were scrupulously to observe,
these tassels with a band of blue were to be constantly worn. It
appears to us singular that men should be expected to pay heed to
such mementoes as these. We are apt to say, If the laws of God were
not in their hearts, the _zizith_ would scarcely make them more
attentive; and if they had the laws in their hearts, they would need
no memorials of obligation. But the ornament was something more than
a reminder of duty. It was a badge of honour, and became more so as
the Israelites understood their high position among the peoples. The
_zizith_ would be like an order, a mark of rank; or like the uniform
of his regiment which to the good soldier recalls its history. The
Hebrew would have to live up to his duty as signified by these
attachments of his dress.

And Israelites were to be distinguished by the _zizith_ from those
who were of other races, not under law to Jehovah. Every man who wore
this badge would be able to count on the sympathy of every other
Israelite. The symbol became a means of rousing the _esprit_ of the
nation, and binding it together in a zealous fraternity. The nature
of the badge appears to us peculiar; but the value of it cannot be
denied. The modern peoples, far as they have travelled from the old
ways of the Hebrews, retain the use of symbolic dress, the liking for
ornaments, by which a man's life may be known.

The name _zizith_ is derived from a word meaning blossom. The tassel
was formed of twisted threads bound by a cord or ribbon of blue to
the garment. It was the blossom of the robe, so to speak, hanging by
a blue stem. The ornament is again mentioned in Deut. xxii. 12, where
it has another name, _gedilim_, enlargements. With extraordinary
pride the Jews of our own time still wear the _talith_, which is a
fantastical development of the _zizith_ of Numbers. "The rabbins
observe that each string consisted of eight threads, which, with
the number of knots and the numerical value of the letters in the
word, make 613, which, according to them, is the exact number of the
precepts in the law." The Pharisees in Christ's time enlarged their
phylacteries, displaying superfluously the proofs of their Hebrew
orthodoxy and zeal. It is the danger of all symbols. In the youth of
a people they have meaning; they express fact, they give honour. The
Israelite wearing his felt himself reminded, put on his honour, not
to go about "according to his own heart and his own eyes by which he
used to go a-whoring." But afterwards the zeal became that of pride,
the symbol a mere amulet or a token of self-sufficiency. The Jew of
to-day is partly kept separate by his talith, and because he wears
it, feels himself in touch with the fathers and heroes and prophets
of his people. But he also feels, what is not always good, his
remoteness from heathen and Christian "dogs."

And Christian symbols, the few sanctioned by Scripture, the others
that have crept into use in the course of history, bring with their
use a similar danger. In many cases they are signs of privilege
rather than memorials of duty. They minister to pride, rather than
stimulate zeal in the service of God and men. The crucifix itself,
with consummate superstition, is worn and kissed as a talisman.

FOOTNOTES:

[6] Sayce, "The Higher Criticism and the Verdict of the Monuments,"
p. 359.

[7] See Keil and Delitzsch _in loco_.




                                  XIV

                      _KORAH, DATHAN, AND ABIRAM_

                           NUMBERS xvi., xvii


Behind what appears in the history, there must have been many
movements of thought and causes of discontent which gradually led
to the events we now consider. Of the revolts against Moses which
occurred in the wilderness, this was the most widely organised and
involved the most serious danger. But we can only conjecture in
what way it arose, how it was related to previous incidents and
tendencies of popular feeling. It is difficult to understand the
report, in which Korah appears at one time closely associated with
Dathan and Abiram, at other times quite apart from them as a leader
of disaffection. According to Wellhausen and others, three narratives
are combined in the text. But without going so far in the way of
analysis we clearly trace two lines of revolt: one against Moses as
leader; the other against the Aaronic priesthood. The two risings may
have been distinct; we shall however deal with them as simultaneous
and more or less combined. A great deal is left unexplained, and we
must be guided by the belief that the narrative of the whole book has
a certain coherency, and that facts previously recorded must have had
their bearing on those now to be examined.

The principal leader of revolt was Korah, son of Izhar, a Levite
of the family of Kohath; and with him were associated two hundred
and fifty "princes of the congregation, called to the assembly,
men of renown," some of them presumably belonging to each of the
tribes as is shown incidentally in xxvii. 3. The complaint of this
company--evidently representing an opinion widely held, was that
Moses and Aaron took too much upon them in reserving to themselves
the whole arrangement and control of the ritual. The two hundred and
fifty, who according to the law had no right to use censers, were so
far in opposition to the Aaronic priesthood that they were provided
with the means of offering incense. They claimed for themselves on
behalf of the whole congregation, whom they declared to be holy, the
highest function of priests. With Korah were specially identified a
number of Levites who, not content with being separated to do the
service of the tabernacle, demanded the higher sacerdotal office.
It might seem from vv. 10, 11, that all the two hundred and fifty
were Levites; but this is precluded by the earlier statement that
they were princes of the congregation, called to the assembly. So
far as we can gather, the tribe of Levi did not supply princes, "men
of renown," in this sense. While Moses deals with Korah and his
company, Dathan, Abiram, and On, who belong to the tribe of Reuben,
stand in the background with their grievance. Invited to state it,
they complain that Moses has not only brought the congregation
out of a land "flowing with milk and honey," to kill them in the
wilderness, failing to give them the inheritance he promised; but
he has made himself a prince over the host, determining everything
without consulting the heads of the tribes. They ask if he means
"to put out the eyes of these men,"--that is, to blind them to the
real purpose he has in view, whatever it is, or to make them his
slaves after the Babylonian fashion, by actually boring out the eyes
of each tenth man, perhaps. The two hundred and fifty are called
by Moses to bring their censers and the incense and fire they have
been using, that Jehovah may signify whether He chooses to be served
by them as priests, or by Aaron. The offering of incense over, the
decree against the whole host as concerned in this revolt is made
known, and Moses intercedes for the people. Then the Voice commands
that all the people shall separate themselves from the "tabernacle"
of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, apparently as if some tent of worship
had been erected in rivalry of the true tabernacle. Dathan and Abiram
are not at the "tabernacle," but at some little distance, in tents of
their own. The people remove from the "tabernacle of Korah, Dathan,
and Abiram," and on the terrible invocation of judgment pronounced
by Moses, the ground cleaves asunder and all the men that appertain
unto Korah go down alive into the pit. Afterwards, it is said, "fire
came forth from the Lord and devoured the two hundred and fifty men
that offered the incense." "The men that appertained unto Korah" may
be the presumptuous Levites, most closely identified with his revolt.
But the two hundred and fifty consumed by the fire are not said to
have been swallowed by the cleaving earth; their censers are taken up
"out of the burning," as devoted or sacred, and beaten into plates
for a covering of the altar.

On the morrow the whole congregation, even more disaffected than
before, is in a state of tumult. The cry is raised that Moses and
Aaron "have killed the people of Jehovah." Forthwith a plague,
the sign of Divine anger, breaks out. Atonement is made by Aaron,
who runs quickly with his burning censer "into the midst of the
assembly," and "stands between the dead and the living." But fourteen
thousand seven hundred die before the plague is stayed. And the
position of Aaron as the acknowledged priest of Jehovah is still
further confirmed. Rods or twigs are taken, one for each tribe, all
the tribes having been implicated in the revolt; and these rods are
laid up in the tent of meeting. When a day has passed, the rod of
Aaron for the tribe of Levi is found to have put forth buds and borne
almonds. The close of the whole series of events is an exclamation of
amazed anxiety by all the people: "Behold, we perish, we are undone,
we are all undone. Every one that cometh near unto the tabernacle of
Jehovah dieth: shall we perish all of us?"

Now throughout the narrative, although other issues are involved,
there can be no question that the main design is the confirmation
of the Aaronic priesthood. What happened conveyed a warning of
most extraordinary severity against any attempt to interfere with
the sacerdotal order as established. And this we can understand.
But it becomes a question why a revolt of Reubenites against Moses
was connected with that of Korah against the sole priesthood of
the Aaronic house. We have also to consider how it came about that
princes out of all the tribes were to be found provided with censers,
which they were apparently in the habit of using to burn incense to
Jehovah. There is a Levitical revolt; there is an assumption by men
in each tribe of priestly dignity; and there is a protest by men
representing the tribe of Reuben against the dictatorship of Moses.
In what way might these different movements arise and combine in a
crisis that almost wrecked the fortunes of Israel?

The explanation supplied by Wellhausen on the basis of his main
theory is exceedingly laboured, at some points improbable, at others
defective. According to the Jehovistic tradition, he says,[8] the
rebellion proceeds from the Reubenites, and is directed against Moses
as leader and judge of the people. The historical basis of this is
dimly discerned to be the fall of Reuben from its old place at the
head of the brother tribes. Out of this story, says Wellhausen,
at some time or other not specified, "when the people of the
congregation, _i.e._, of the Church, have once come on the scene,"
there arises a second version. The author of the agitation is now
Korah, a prince of the tribe of Judah, and he rebels not only against
Moses but against Moses and Aaron as representing the priesthood.
"The jealousy of the secular grandees is now directed against the
class of hereditary priests instead of against the extraordinary
influence on the community of a heaven-sent hero." Then there is a
third addition which "belongs likewise to the Priestly Code, but
not to its original contents." In this, Korah the prince of the
tribe of Judah is replaced by another Korah, head of a "post-exilic
Levitical family"; and "the contest between clergy and aristocracy is
transformed into a domestic strife between the higher and inferior
clergy which was no doubt raging in the time of the narrator." All
this is supposed to be a natural and easy explanation of what would
otherwise be an "insoluble enigma." We ask, however, at what period
any family of Judah would be likely to claim the priesthood, and at
what post-exilic period there was "no doubt" a strife between the
higher and inferior clergy. Nor is there any account here of the two
hundred and fifty princes of the congregation, with their partially
developed ritual antagonistic to that of the tabernacle.

We have seen that according to the narrative of Numbers seventy
elders of the tribes were appointed to aid Moses in bearing the
heavy burden of administration, and were endowed with the gift of
prophecy that they might the more impressively wield authority in
the host. In the first instance, these men might be zealous helpers
of Moses, but they proved, like the rest, angry critics of his
leadership when the spies returned with their evil report. They were
included with the other men of the tribes in the doom of the forty
years' wandering, and might easily become movers of sedition. When
the ark was stationed permanently at Kadesh, and the tribes spread
themselves after the manner of shepherds over a wide range of the
surrounding district, we can easily see that the authority of the
seventy would increase in proportion to the need for direction felt
in the different groups to which they belonged. Many of the scattered
companies too were so far from the tabernacle that they might desire
a worship of their own, and the original priestly function of the
heads of tribes, if it had lapsed, might in this way be revived.
Although there were no altars, yet with censers and incense one of
the highest rites of worship might be observed.

Again, the period of inaction must have been galling to many who
conceived themselves quite capable of making a successful assault on
the inhabitants of Canaan, or otherwise securing a settled place of
abode for Israel. And the tribe of Reuben, first by birthright, and
apparently one of the strongest, would take the lead in a movement to
set aside the authority of Moses. We have also to keep in mind that
though Moses had pressed the Kenizzites to join the march and relied
on their fidelity, the presence in the camp of one like Hobab, who was
an equal not a vassal of Moses, must have been a continual incentive
to disaffection. He and his troops had their own notions, we may
believe, as to the delay of forty years, and would very likely deny its
necessity. They would also have their own cultus, and religiously, as
well as in other ways, show an independence which encouraged revolt.

Once more, as to the Levites, it might seem unfair to them that Aaron
and his two sons should have a position so much higher than theirs.
They had to do many offices in connection with sacrifice, and other
parts of the holy service. On them, indeed, fell the burden of the
duties, and the ambitious might expect to force their way into the
higher office of the priesthood, at a time when rebellion against
authority was coming to a head. We may suppose that Korah and his
company of Levites, acting partly for themselves, partly in concert
with the two hundred and fifty who had already assumed the right to
burn incense, agreed to make their demand in the first instance, that
as Levites they should be admitted priests. This would prepare the way
for the princes of the tribes to claim sacerdotal rights according
to the old clan idea. And at the same time, the priority of Reuben
would be another point, insistence upon which would strike at the
power of Moses. If the princes of Reuben had gone so far as to erect a
"tabernacle" or _mishcan_ for their worship, that may have been, for
the occasion, made the headquarters of revolt, perhaps because Reuben
happened at the time to be nearest the encampment of the Levites.

A widespread rebellion, an organised rebellion, not homogeneous, but
with many elements in it tending to utter confusion, is what we see.
Suppose it to have succeeded, the unity of worship would have been
destroyed completely. Each tribe with its own cultus would have gone
its own way so far as religion was concerned. In a very short time
there would have been as many debased cults as there were wandering
companies. Then the claim of autonomy, if not of right to lead the
tribes, made on behalf of Reuben, involved a further danger. Moses had
not only the sagacity but the inspiration which ought to have commanded
obedience. The princes of Reuben had neither. Whether all under the
lead of Reuben or each tribe led by its own princes, the Israelites
would have travelled to disaster. Futile attempts at conquest, strife
or alliance with neighbouring peoples, internal dissension, would have
worn the tribes piecemeal away. The dictatorship of Moses, the Aaronic
priesthood, and the unity of worship stood or fell together. One of the
three removed, the others would have given way. But the revolutionary
spirit, springing out of ambition and a disaffection for which there
was no excuse, was blind to consequences. And the stern suppression of
this revolt, at whatever cost, was absolutely needful if there was to
be any future for Israel.

It has been supposed that we have in this rebellion of Korah the
first example of ecclesiastical dissension, and that the punishment
is a warning to all who presumptuously intrude into the priestly
office. Laymen take the censer; and the fire of the Lord burns them
up. So, let not laymen, at any time in the Church's history, venture
to touch the sacred mysteries. If ritual and sacramentarian miracle
were the heart of religion; if there could be no worship of God and
no salvation for men now unless through a consecrated priesthood,
this might be said. But the old covenant, with its symbols and
shadows, has been superseded. We have another centre now, another
tabernacle, another way which has been consecrated for ever by the
sacrifice of Christ, a way into the holiest of all open to every
believer. Our unity does not depend on the priesthood of men, but on
the universal and eternal priesthood of Christ. The co-operation of
Aaron as priest was needful to Moses, not that his power might be
maintained for his own sake, but that he might have authority over
the host for Israel's sake. It was not the dignity of an order or of
a man that was at stake, but the very existence of religion and of
the nation. This bond snapped at any point, the tribes would have
been scattered and lost.

A leader of men standing above them for their temporal interests
can rarely take upon him to be the instrument of administering the
penalty of their sins. What king, for instance, ever invoked an
interdict on his own people, or in his own right of judging for God
condemned them to pay a tax to the Church, because they had done what
was morally wrong? Rulers generally have regarded disobedience to
themselves as the only crime it was worth their while to punish. When
Moses stood against the faithless spirit of the Israelites and issued
orders by way of punishing that bad spirit, he certainly put his
authority to a tremendous test. Without a sure ground of confidence
in Divine support, he would have been foolhardy in the extreme.
And we are not surprised that the coalition against him represented
many causes of discontent. Under his administration the long sojourn
in the desert had been decreed, and a whole generation deprived of
what they held their right--a settlement in Canaan. He appeared to
be tyrannising over the tribes; and proud Reubenites sought to put
an end to his rule. The priesthood was his creation, and seemed to
be made exclusive simply that through Aaron he might have a firmer
hold of the people's liberties. Why was the old prerogative of the
headmen in religious matters taken from them? They would reclaim
their rights. Neither Levi nor Reuben should be denied its priestly
autonomy any longer. In the whole rebellion there was one spirit,
but there were also divided counsels; and Moses showed his wisdom by
taking the revolt not as a single movement, but part by part.

First he met the Levites, with Korah at their head, professing great
zeal for the principle that all the congregation were holy, every
one of them. A claim made on that ground could not be disproved by
argument, perhaps, although the holiness of the congregation was
evidently an ideal, not a fact. Jehovah Himself would have to decide.
Yet Moses remonstrated in a way that was fitted to move the Levites,
and perhaps did touch some of them. They had been honoured by God in
having a certain holy office assigned to them. Were they to renounce
it in joining a revolt which would make the very priesthood they
desired common to all the tribes? From Jehovah Himself the Levites
had their commission. It was against Jehovah they were fighting;
and how could they speed? They spoke of Aaron and his dignity. But
what was Aaron? Only a servant of God and of the people, a man who
personally assumed no great airs. By this appeal some would seem
to have been detached from the rebellion, for in xxvi. 9-11, when
the judgment of Korah and his company is referred to, it is added,
"Notwithstanding the children of Korah died not." From 1 Chron. vi.
we learn that in the line of Korah's descendants appeared certain
makers and leaders of sacred song, Heman among them, one of David's
singers, to whom Psalm lxxxviii. is ascribed.

With the Reubenites Moses deals in the next place, taking their
cause of discontent by itself. Already one of the three Reubenite
chiefs had withdrawn, and Dathan and Abiram stood by themselves.
Refusing to obey the call of Moses to a conference, they stated their
grievance roughly by the mouth of a messenger; and Moses could only
with indignation express before God his blamelessness in regard to
them: "I have not taken one ass from them, neither have I hurt one
of them." Neither for his own enrichment, nor in personal ambition
had he acted. Could they maintain, did the people think, that the
present revolt was equally disinterested? Under cover of opposition
to tyranny, are they not desiring to play the part of tyrants and
aggrandise themselves at the expense of the people?

It is singular that not a word is said in special condemnation of
the two hundred and fifty because they were in possession of censers
and incense. May it be the case that the complete reservation of
the high-priestly duties to the house of Aaron had not as yet taken
effect, that it was a purpose rather than a fact? May it not further
be the case that the rebellion partly took form and ripened because
an order had been given withdrawing the use of censers from the
headmen of the tribes? If there had as yet been a certain temporary
allowance of the tribal priesthood and ritual, we should not have to
ask how incense and censers were in the hands of the two hundred and
fifty, and why the brass of their vessels was held to be sacred and
put to holy use.

The prayer of Moses in which he interceded for the people, ver. 22,
is marked by an expression of singular breadth, "O God, the God of
the spirits of all flesh." The men, misled on the fleshly side by
appetite (ver. 13), and shrinking from pain, were against God. But
their spirits were in His hand. Would He not move their spirits,
redeem and save them? Would He not look on the hearts of all and
distinguish the guilty from the innocent, the more rebellious from
the less? One man had sinned, but would God burst out on the whole
congregation? The form of the intercession is abrupt, crude. Even
Moses with all his justice and all his pity could not be more just,
more compassionate, than Jehovah. The purpose of destruction was not
as the leader thought it to be.

Regarding the judgments, that of the earthquake and that of the fire,
we are too remote in time to form any proper conception of what they
were, how they were inflicted. "Moses," says Lange, "appears as a man
whose wonderful presentiment becomes a miraculous prophecy by the
Spirit of revelation." But this is not sufficient. There was more than
a presentiment. Moses knew what was coming, knew that where the rebels
stood the earth would open, the consuming fire burn. The plague, on the
other hand, which next day spread rapidly among the excited people and
threatened to destroy them, was not foreseen. It came as if straight
from the hand of Divine wrath. But it afforded an opportunity for Aaron
to prove his power with God and his courage. Carrying the sacred fire
into the midst of the infected people he became the means of their
deliverance. As he waved his censer, and its fumes went up to heaven,
faith in Jehovah and in Aaron as the true priest of Jehovah was revived
in the hearts of men. Their spirits came again under the healing power
of that symbolism which had lost its virtue in common use, and was
now associated in a grave crisis with an appeal to Him who smites and
heals, who kills and makes alive.

It has been maintained by some that the closing sentences of chap.
xvii. should follow chap. xvi. with which they appear to be closely
connected, the incident of the budding of Aaron's rod seeming to call
rather for a festal celebration than a lament. The theory of the
Book of Numbers we have seen reason to adopt would account for the
introduction of the fresh episode, simply because it relates to the
priesthood and tends to confirm the Aaronites in exclusive dignity. The
symbolic test of the claim raised by the tribes corresponds closely to
the signs that were used by some of the prophets, such as the girdle
laid up by the river Euphrates, and the basket of summer fruits. The
rod on which Aaron's name was written was of almond, a tree for which
Syria was famous. Like the sloe it sends forth blossoms before the
leaves; and the unique way in which this twig showed its living vigour
as compared with the others was a token of the choice of Levi to serve
and Aaron to minister in the holiest office before Jehovah.

The whole circumstances, and the closing cry of the people, leave the
impression of a grave difficulty found in establishing the hierarchy
and centralising the worship. It was a necessity--shall we call it
a sad necessity?--that the men of the tribes should be deprived of
direct access to the sanctuary and the oracle. Earthly, disobedient,
and far from trustful in God, they could not be allowed, even the
hereditary chiefs among them, to offer sacrifices. The ideas of the
Divine holiness embodied in the Mosaic law were so far in advance of
the common thought of Israel, that the old order had to be superseded
by one fitted to promote the spiritual education of the people, and
prepare them for a time when there shall be "on the bells of the
horses, HOLY UNTO THE LORD; and every pot in Judah shall be holy unto
the Lord of hosts, and all they that sacrifice shall come and take of
them and seethe therein." The institution of the Aaronic priesthood
was a step of progress indispensable to the security of religion and
the brotherhood of the tribes in that high sense for which they were
made a nation. But it was at the same time a confession that Israel
was not spiritual, was not the holy congregation Korah declared
it to be. The greater was the pity that afterwards in the day of
Israel's opportunity, when Christ came to lead the whole people into
the spiritual liberty and grace for which prophets had longed, the
priestly system was held tenaciously as the pride of the nation.
When the law of ritual and sacrifice and priestly mediation should
have been left behind as no longer necessary because the Messiah had
come, the way of higher life was opened in vain. Sacerdotalism held
its place with full consent of those who guided affairs. Israel as a
nation was blinded, and its day shone in vain.

Of all priesthoods as corporate bodies, however estimable, zealous,
and spiritually-minded individual members of them may be, must it
not be said that their existence is a sad necessity? They may be
educative. A sacerdotal system now may, like that of the Mosaic law,
be a tutor to bring men to Christ. Realising that, those who hold
office under it may bring help to men not yet fit for liberty. But
priestly dominance is no perpetual rule in any church, certainly not
in the Kingdom of God. The freedom with which Christ makes men free
is the goal. The highest duty a priest can fulfil is to prepare men
for that liberty; and as soon as he can he should discharge them for
the enjoyment of it. To find in episodes like those of Korah's revolt
and its suppression a rule applicable to modern religious affairs is
too great an anachronism. For whatever right sacerdotalism now has is
purely of the Church's tolerance, in the measure not of Divine right,
but of the need of uninstructed men. To the spiritual, to those who
know, the priestly system with its symbols and authoritative claim is
but an interference with privilege and duty.

Can any Aaron now make an atonement for a mass of people, or even
in virtue of his office apply to them the atonement made by Christ?
How does his absolution help a soul that knows Christ the Redeemer
as every Christian soul ought to know Him? The great fault of
priesthoods always is, that having once gained power, they endeavour
to retain it and extend it, making greater claims the longer they
exist. Affirming that they speak for the Church, they endeavour
to control the voice of the Church. Affirming that they speak for
Christ, they deny or minimise His great gift of liberty. Freedom of
thought and reason was to Cardinal Newman, for example, the cause
of all deplorable heresies and infidelities, of a divided Church and
a ruined world. The candid priest of our day is found making his
claim as largely as ever, and then virtually explaining it away.
Should not the vain attempt to hold by Judaic institutions cease? And
although the Church of Christ early made the mistake of harking back
to Mosaism, should not confession now be made that priesthood of the
exclusive kind is out of date, that every believer may perform the
highest functions of the consecrated life?

The Divine choice of Aaron, his confirmation in high religious office
by the budding of the almond twig as well as by the acceptance of
his intercession, have their parallels now. The realities of one
age become symbols for another. Like the whole ritual of Israel,
these particular incidents may be turned to Christian use by way
of illustration. But not with regard to the prerogative of any
arch-hierarch. The availing intercession is that of Christ, the sole
headship over the tribes of men is that which He has gained by Divine
courage, love, and sacrifice. Among those who believe there is equal
dependence on the work of Christ. When we come to intercession which
they make for each other, it is of value in consideration not of
office but of faith. "The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man
availeth much." It is as "righteous" men, humble men, not as priests
they prevail. The sacraments are efficacious, "not from any virtue
in them or in him that administers them," but through faith, by the
energy of the omnipresent Spirit.

Yet there are men chosen to special duty, whose almond twigs bud and
blossom and become their sceptres. Appointment and ordination are our
expedients; grace is given by God in a higher line of calling and
endowment. While there are blessings pronounced that fall upon the
ear or gratify the sensibility, theirs reach the soul. For them the
world has need to thank God. They keep religion alive, and make it
bourgeon and yield the new fruits for which the generations hunger.
They are new branches of the Living Vine. Of them it has often to be
said, as of the Lord Himself, "The stone which the builders rejected
the same has become head of the corner; this is the Lord's doing, and
it is marvellous in our eyes."

FOOTNOTE:

[8] Prolegomena to the "History of Israel," p. 354.




                                   XV

                        _TITHES AND CLEANSINGS_

                          NUMBERS xviii., xix


1. DUTIES AND SUPPORT OF THE MINISTRY.--The statutes of chap. xviii.
are related to the rebellion of Korah by a clause in ver. 9, "Ye shall
keep the charge of the sanctuary and the charge of the altar: that
there be wrath no more upon the children of Israel." The enactments
are directed anew against any intrusion into the sacred service by
those who are not Levites, and into the priesthood by those who are not
Aaronites. It is clearly implied that the ministry of the tabernacle is
held under a grave responsibility. The "iniquity of the sanctuary" and
the "iniquity of the priesthood" have to be borne; and the Aaronites
alone are commissioned to bear that iniquity. The Levites, though they
serve, are not to touch the holy vessels lest they die. The priesthood,
"for everything of the altar, and for that within the veil," is given
to the Aaronites as a service of gift.

A certain "iniquity," corresponding to the holiness of the tabernacle
and its vessels, attends the service which is to be done by the
priests. Their entrance into the sacred tent is an approach to
Jehovah, and from His purity there is thrown a defilement on human
life. The idea thus represented is capable of fine spiritual
realisation. With this embodied in the law and worship, there is no
need to look in any other direction for that evangelical poverty
of spirit which the better Israelites of an after time knew. Here
prophecy found in the law a germ of deep religious feeling which,
rising above tabernacle and altar, became the holy fear of Him who
inhabits eternity. The creation throughout its whole range, in
the very act of receiving existence, comes into contrast with the
creative Will and is on a lower moral plane, to which the Divine
purity does not accompany it. The seraphim of Isaiah's vision feel
this severance to a certain extent. They are so far apart from God
that His holiness is not enjoyed unconsciously, as the element of
life. It shines above them and determines their attitude and the
terms of their praise. With their wings they cover their faces, and
they cry to each other, "Holy, holy, holy is Jehovah of hosts: the
whole earth is full of His glory." Even they "bear the iniquity" of
the great temple of the world in which they minister. On fallen man
that iniquity lies with almost crushing weight. "Woe is me!" says
the prophet, "for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips,
and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips: for mine eyes
have seen the King, Jehovah of hosts." Thus the soul is brought into
that profound consciousness of defect and pollution which is the
preparation for reverent service of the Highest. The attribute of
holiness remains with God always, and His mercy in forgiving sin in
no way detracts from it. The eternity of God sets Him so far above
transitory men that He can extend compassion to them. "Art Thou not
from everlasting, O Jehovah my God, mine Holy One? We shall not
die." But His touch is, to the sinful earth, almost destruction.
When the Lord the God of hosts toucheth the land it melteth, and all
that dwell therein mourn (Amos ix. 12). When a people falls from
righteousness the Divine holiness burns against it like a consuming
fire. "We are all become as one that is unclean, and all our
righteousnesses are as a polluted garment: and we all do fade as a
leaf; and our iniquities like the wind take us away.... Thou hast hid
Thy face from us, and hast consumed us by means of our iniquities"
(Isa. lxiv. 6, 7).

The idea of the identification with the Holy God of the sanctuary
dedicated to Him, so that from the porch of it falls the shadow of
iniquity, is still further carried out in Numb. xviii. 1, where it is
declared that Aaron and his sons shall "bear the iniquity" of their
priesthood. The meaning is that the priesthood as an abstract thing,
an office held from Jehovah and for Him, has a holiness like the
sanctuary, and that the entrance into it of a man like Aaron brings
to light his human imperfection and taint. And this corresponds to
a consciousness which every one who deals with sacred truth and
undertakes the conduct of Divine worship in the right spirit is bound
to have. Entering on those exalted duties he "bears his iniquity."
The sense of daring intrusion may almost keep back a man who knows
that he has received a Divine call.

To the heavenly muse the poet can but reply:--

      "I am not worthy even to speak
       Of Thy prevailing mysteries;
       For I am but an earthly muse ...
       And darken sanctities with song."

With regard to the Levites whom Aaron is to bring near "that they
may be joined unto him," it is singular that their duties and the
restrictions put on them are detailed here as if now for the first
time this branch of the sacred ministry was being organised. In the
actual development of things this may be true. Difficulties had to
be overcome, the nature of the statutes and ordinances had to be
explained. Now the time of practical initiation may have arrived. On
the other hand, the attempt of Korah to press into the priesthood may
have made necessary a recapitulation of the law of Levitical service.

For the support of the Aaronites the heave offerings, "even all the
hallowed things of the children of Israel" were to be given "by
reason of the anointing." The meal offerings, sin offerings, and
guilt offerings, as most holy, were to be for the male Aaronites
alone: heave offerings of sacrifice, again, "all the wave offerings,"
were to be used by the Aaronites and their families, the reservation
being made that only those without ceremonial defilement should
eat of them. The first-fruits of the oil and vintage and the first
ripe of all fruits in the land were other perquisites. Further, the
first-born of man and of beast were to be nominally devoted; but
first-born children were to be redeemed for five shekels, and the
firstlings of unclean beasts were also to be redeemed. The children
of Aaron were to have no inheritance in the land. In these ways
however, and by the payment to the priests of the tenth part of the
tithes collected by the Levites, ample provision was made for them.

For the Levites, nine-tenths of all tithes of produce would appear to
have been not only sufficient, but far more than their proportion.
According to the numbers reported in this book, twenty-two thousand
Levites--about twelve thousand of them adult men--were to receive
tithes from six hundred thousand. This would make the provision for
the Levite as much as for any five men of the tribes. An explanation
is suggested that the regular payment of tithes could not be reckoned
upon. There would always be Israelites who resented an obligation like
this; and as the duty of paying tithes, though enjoined in the law,
was a moral one, not enforced by penalty, the Levites were really in
many periods of the history of Israel in a state of poverty. It was
a complaint of Malachi even after the captivity, when the law was in
force, that the tithes were not brought to the temple storehouses.
The Deuteronomic laws of tithing, moreover, are different from those
given in Numbers. While here we read of a single tithe which is to be
for the Levites, which, if paid, would be more than sufficient for
them, Deuteronomy speaks of an annual tithe of produce to be eaten by
the people at the central sanctuary by way of a festival, to which
children, servants, and Levites were to be invited. Each third year
a special tithe was to be used in feasting, not necessarily at the
sanctuary, and again the Levites were to have their share. It is
supposed by some that there were two annual tithings and in the third
year three tithings of the produce of the land. But this seems far more
than even a specially fertile country could bear. There was no rent to
be paid, of course; and if the tithes were used in a festival no great
difficulty might be found. But it is clear at all events that more
dependence was placed on the free will of the people than on the law;
and the Levites and priests must have suffered when religion fell into
neglect. Israel was not ideally generous.


2. WATER OF PURIFICATION.--The statute of xix. 1-22 is peculiar,
and the rites it enjoins are full of symbolism. It is implied that
water alone was unable to remove the defilement caused by touching a
dead body; but at the same time the taint was so common and might be
incurred so far from the sanctuary that sacrifice could not always
be exacted. In order to meet the case an animal was to be offered,
and the residue of its burning was to be kept for use whenever the
defilement of death had to be taken away.

A red heifer was to be chosen, the colour of the animal pointing to
the hue of blood. The heifer was to be free from blemish, a type of
vigorous and prolific life. The charge of the sacrifice was to be given
to Eleazar the priest, for the high-priest himself might not undertake
a duty the performance of which caused uncleanness. The ceremonies must
take place not only outside the tabernacle court, but outside the camp,
that the intensity of the uncleanness to be transferred to the animal
and purged by the sacrifice may be clearly understood. The heifer
being slain, the priest takes of its blood and sprinkles it towards
the tent of meeting seven times, in lieu of the ordinary sprinkling on
the altar. The whole animal is then burnt, and while the flame ascends
the virtue of the residuent ashes is symbolically increased by certain
other elements. These are cedar wood, which was believed to have
special medicinal qualities, and also may have been chosen on account
of the long life of the tree; some threads of scarlet wool which would
represent the arterial blood, instinct with vital power; and hyssop
which was employed in purification.

The priest, having presided at the sacrifice, was to wash his clothes
in water and bathe his flesh and hold himself unclean till the even.
The assistant who fed the fire was in like manner unclean. These
were both to withdraw; and one who was clean was to gather the ashes
of the burning and, having provided some clean vessel within the
camp, he was to store up the purifying ashes for future use by the
people. Finally, the person who did this last duty, having become
tainted like the others, was to wash his clothes and be unclean for
the day. The ashes were to be used by mixing them with water to make
"water for pollution"; that is, water to take away pollution. Special
care was to be exercised that only living water, or water from a
flowing stream, should be used for this purpose. It was to be applied
to the defiled person, vessel, or tent, by means of hyssop. But,
again, the man who used the water of purification in this way was to
wash his clothes and be unclean until even.

Here we have an extra-sacerdotal rite, not of worship--for as
ordinarily used there was no prayer to God, nor perhaps even the
thought of appeal to God. It was religious, for the sense of defilement
belonged to religion; but when under the necessity of the occasion any
one applied the water of purification, his sense of acting the priestly
part was reduced to the lowest point. The efficacy came through the
action of the accredited priest when the heifer was sacrificed, it
might be a year previously. So, although provision was made for needs
occurring far from the sanctuary, no opening was left for any one
to claim the power belonging to the sacerdotal office. And in order
to make this still more sure it was enacted (ver. 21), that though
the sprinkled water of purification cleansed the unclean, any one
who touched it being himself clean should _de facto_ be defiled. The
water was declared so sacred that unless in cases where it was really
required no one would be disposed to meddle with it. The sanctity of
the tabernacle and the priesthood was symbolically carried forth to the
most distant parts of the land. All were to be on their guard lest they
should incur the judgment of God by abusing that which had ceremonial
holiness and power.

The idea here is in a sense directly opposite to that which we
associate with the sacred word, by which Divine will is communicated
and souls are begotten anew. To use that word, to make it known abroad
is the duty of every one who has heard and believed. He diffuses
blessing and is himself blessed. There is no strict law hedging about
with precautions the happy privilege of conveying to the sin-defiled
the message of forgiveness and life. And yet may we not call to
recollection here the words of Paul, "I buffet my body, and bring it
into bondage; lest by any means, after that I have preached to others,
I myself should be rejected." In a spiritual sense they should be clean
who bear the vessels of the Lord; and every deed done, every word
spoken in the sacred Name, if not with purity of purpose and singleness
of heart, involves in guilt him who acts and speaks. The privilege has
its accompanying danger; and the more widely it is used in the thousand
organisations within and without the Church, the more carefully do all
who use it need to guard the sanctity of the message and the Name. "In
a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver, but also
of wood and of earth; and some unto honour, and some unto dishonour.
If a man therefore purge himself from these"--the profane babblings of
those who do not handle the word of God aright--"he shall be a vessel
unto honour, sanctified, meet for the Master's use, prepared unto every
good work."


3. DEFILEMENT BY THE DEAD.--The statute of the water of purification
stands closely related to one form of uncleanness, that occasioned
by death. When death took place in a tent, every one who came into
the tent and every one who was in the tent, every open vessel that
had no covering bound upon it, and the tent itself (ver. 18) were
defiled; and the taint could not be removed in less than seven days.
Whoever in the open field touched one who had been slain with a
sword, or had otherwise died, or touched the bone of a man, or a
grave--contracted like defilement. For purification the sacred water
had to be sprinkled on the defiled person, on the third day and again
on the seventh day. Not only the aspersion with sacred water, but,
in addition, cleansing of clothes and of the body was necessary, in
order to complete the removal of the taint. And further, while any
one was unclean from this cause, if he touched another, his touch
carried defilement that continued to the close of the day. To neglect
the statute of purification was to defile the tabernacle of Jehovah:
he who did so was to be cut off from his people.

The law was made stringent, as we have already seen, partly no doubt
for the purpose of preventing the spread of disease. And to that
extent the preservation of health was presented as a religious duty;
for only in that sense can we understand the statement that he who
did not purify himself defiled the tabernacle of Jehovah. Yet the
stringency cannot be altogether due to this, for a bone or a grave
would not often communicate infection. The general principle must be
received by way of explanation, that death is peculiarly repugnant to
the life of God, and therefore contact with it, in any form, takes
away the right of approach to the sanctuary. That this idea goes
back to the fall and the death penalty then pronounced might seem a
reasonable conclusion. But the same thought does not apply to the
defilement connected with birth. If the statute regarding uncleanness
by death rested on the connection of death with sin, making "death
and mortal corruption an embodiment of sin," the thought was obscured
by many other laws regarding uncleanness. The aim we must believe was
to make the theocratic oversight of the people penetrate as many as
possible of the incidents and contingencies of their existence.




                                  XVI

                     _SORROW AND FAILURE AT KADESH_

                               NUMBERS xx


There is a mustering at Kadesh of the scattered tribes, for now the
end of the period of wandering approaches, and the generation that has
been disciplined in the wilderness must prepare for a new advance.
The spies who searched Canaan were sent from Kadesh (xiii. 26), to
which, in the second year from the exodus, the tribes had penetrated.
Now, in the first month of the fortieth year it would seem, Kadesh is
again the headquarters. The adjacent district is called the desert of
Zin. Eastward, across the great plain of the Arabah, reaching from the
Dead Sea to the Elanitic Gulf, are the mountains of Seir, the natural
rampart of Edom. To the head of the Gulf at Elath the distance is some
eighty miles in a straight line southward; to the southern end of the
Dead Sea it is about fifty miles. Kadesh is almost upon the southern
border of Canaan; but the way of the Negeb is barred by defeat, and
Israel must enter the Promised Land by another route. In preparation
for the advance the tribes gather from the wadies and plateaus in
which they have been wandering, and at Kadesh or near it the earlier
incidents of this chapter occur.

First among them is the death of Miriam. She has survived the
hardships of the desert and reached a very great age. Her time of
influence and vigour past, all the joys of life now in the dim
memories of a century, she is glad, no doubt, when the call comes.
It was her happiness once to share the enthusiasm of Moses and to
sustain the faith of the people in their leader and in God. But any
service of this kind she could render has been left behind. For some
time she has been able only now and then with feeble steps to move to
the tent of meeting that she might assure herself of the welfare of
Moses. The tribes will press on to Canaan, but she shall never see it.

How is a life like this of Miriam's to be reckoned? Take into
account her faith and her faithfulness; but remember that both were
maintained with some intermixture of poor egotism; that while she
helped Moses she also claimed to rival and rebuke him; that while
she served Jehovah it was with some of the pride of a prophetess.
Her devotion, her endurance, the long interest in her brother's
work, which indeed led to the great error of her life--these were
her virtues, the old great virtues of a woman. So far as opportunity
went she doubtless did her utmost, with some independence of thought
and decision of character. Even though she gave way to jealousy and
passed beyond her right, we must believe that, on the whole, she
served her generation in loyalty to the best she knew, and in the
fear of the Most High. But into what a strange disturbed current of
life was her effort thrown! Downcast, sorely burdened women, counting
for very little when they were cheerful or when they complained,
heard Miriam's words and took them into their narrow thoughts, to
resent her enthusiasm, perhaps, when she was enthusiastic, to grudge
her the power she enjoyed, which to herself seemed so slight. In
the camp generally she had respect, and perhaps, once and again,
she was able to reconcile to Moses and to one another those whose
quarrels threatened the common peace. When she was put forth from
the camp in the shame of her leprosy, all were affected, and the
march was stayed till her time of separation was over. Was she one of
those women whose lot it is to serve others all their lives and to
have little for their service? Still, like many another, she helped
to make Israel. Of good and evil, of Divine elements and some that
are anything but Divine, lives are made up. And although we cannot
gather the results of any one and tell its worth, the stream of being
retains and the unerring judgment of God accepts whatever is sincere
and good. Miriam from first to last fills but a few lines of sacred
history; yet of her life, as of others, more has to be told; the end
did not come when she died at Kadesh and was buried outside Canaan.

       *       *       *       *       *

Spread through a diversified and not altogether barren region, over
many square miles, the tribes have been able during the thirty-seven
years to provide themselves with water. Gathered more closely now,
when the dry season begins they are in want. And at once complaints
are renewed. Nor can we wonder much. In flaming sunshine, in the
parched air of the heights and the stifling heat of the narrow valleys,
the cattle gasping and many of them dying, the children crying in
vain for water, the little that is to be had, hot and almost putrid,
carefully divided, yet insufficient to give each family a little,--the
people might well lament their apparently inevitable fate. It may be
said, "They should have confided in God." But while that might apply
in ordinary circumstances, would not be out of place if the whole
history were ideal, the reality, once understood, forbids so easy a
condemnation of unbelief. Nothing is more terrible to endure, nothing
more fitted to make strong men weep or turn them into savage critics of
a leader and of Providence, than to see their children in the extremity
of want which they cannot relieve. And a leader like Moses, patient as
he may have been of other complaints, should have been most patient of
this. When the people chode with him and said, "Would God that we had
died when our brethren died before the Lord! And why have ye brought
the assembly of the Lord into this wilderness, that we should die,
we and our cattle?" they ought surely to have been met with pity and
soothing words.

It is indeed a tragedy we are to witness when we come to the rock;
and one element of it is the old age and the weary spirit of the
leader. Who can tell what vexed his soul that day? how many cares
and anxieties burdened the mind that was clear yet, but not so
tolerant, perhaps, as once it had been? The years of Moses, his
long and arduous service of the people, are not remembered as they
ought to be. Even in their extremity the men of the tribes ought
to have appealed to their great chief with all respect, instead of
breaking in upon him with reproaches. Was no experience sufficient
for these people? After the discipline of the wilderness, was the new
generation, like that which had died, still a mere horde, ungrateful,
rebellious? From the leader's point of view this thought could not
fail to arise, and the old magnanimity did not drive it away.

Another point is the forbearance of Jehovah, who has no anger with
the people. The Divine Voice commands Moses to take his rod and go
forth to the rock and speak to it before the assembly. This does not
fall in with Moses' mood. Why is God not indignant with the men of
this new generation who seize the first opportunity to begin their
murmuring? Relapsing from his high inspiration to a poor human level,
Moses begins to think that Jehovah, whose forgiveness he has often
implored on Israel's behalf, is too ready now to forgive. It is a
failing of the best men thus to stand for the prerogative of God
more than God Himself; that is, to mistake the real point of the
circumstances they judge and the Divine will they should interpret.
The story of Jonah shows the prophet anxious that Nineveh, the
inveterate foe of Israel, the centre of proud, God-defying idolatry,
should be destroyed. Does God wish it to be spared, to repent and
obtain forgiveness? So does not Jonah. His creed is one of doom
for wickedness. He resents the Divine mercy and, in effect, exalts
himself above the Most High. In like temper is Moses when he goes out
followed by the crowd. There is the rock from which water shall be
made to flow. But with the thought in his mind that the people do not
deserve God's help, Moses takes the affair upon himself. The tragedy
is fulfilled when his own feelings guide him more than the Divine
patience, his own displeasure more than the Divine compassion; and
with the words on his lips, "Hear now, ye rebels; shall we bring you
forth water out of this rock?" he smites it twice with his rod.

For the moment, forgetting Jehovah the merciful, Moses will himself
act God; and he misrepresents God, dishonours God, as every one
who forgets Him is sure to do. Is he confident in the power of his
wonder-working rod? Does he wish to show that its old virtue remains?
He will use it as if he were smiting the people as well as the rock.
Is he willing that this thirsting multitude should drink? Yet he is
determined to make them feel that they offend by the urgency with which
they press upon him for help. There have been crises in the lives of
leaders of men when, with all the teaching of the past to inspire them,
they should have risen to a faith in God far greater than they ever
exercised before; and more or less they have failed. This is not the
will of Providence, they have thought, though they should have known
that it was. They have said, "Advance: but God goes not with you," when
they should have seen the heavenly light moving on. So Moses failed. He
touched his limit; and it was far short of that breadth of compassion
which belongs to the Most Merciful. He stood as God, with the rod in
his hand to give the water, but with the condemnation upon his lips
which Jehovah did not speak.

In this mood of assumed majesty, of moral indignation which has a
personal source, with an air of superiority not the simplicity of
inspiration, a man may do what he will for ever regret, may betray a
habit of self-esteem which has been growing upon him and will be his
ruin if it is not checked. In the strong mind of Moses there had lain
the germs of hauteur. The early upbringing in an Egyptian court could
not fail to leave its mark, and the dignity of a dictator could not be
sustained, after the anxieties of the first two years in the desert,
without some slight growth of a tendency or disposition to look down
on people so spiritless, and play among them the part of Providence,
the decrees of which Moses had so often interpreted. But pride, even
beginning to show itself towards men, is an aping of God. Unconsciously
the mind that looks down on the crowd falls into the trick of a
superhuman claim. Moses, great as he is, without personal ambition, the
friend of every Israelite, reaches unaware the hour when a habit long
suppressed lifts itself into power. He feels himself the guardian of
justice, a critic not only of the lives of men but of the attitude of
Jehovah towards them. It is but for an hour; yet the evil is done. What
appears to the uplifted mind justice, is arrogance. What is meant for a
defence of Jehovah's right, is desecration of the highest office a man
can hold under the Supreme. The words are spoken, the rock is struck in
pride; and Moses has fallen.

Think of the realisation of this which comes when the flush of hasty
resentment dies, and the true self which had been suppressed revives
in humble thought. "What have I done?" is the reflection--"What have
I said? My rod, my hand, my will, what are they? My indignation!
Who gave me the right to be indignant? A king against whom they
have revolted! A guardian of the Divine honour! Alas! I have denied
Jehovah. I, who stood for Him in my pride, have defamed Him in my
vanity. The people who murmured, whom I rebuked, have sinned less
than I. They distrusted God, I have declared Him unmerciful, and
thereby sown the seeds of distrust. Now I, too, am barred from
Israel's inheritance. Unworthy of the promise, I shall never cross
the border of God's land. Aaron my brother, we are the transgressors.
Because we have not honoured God to sanctify Him in the eyes of the
children of Israel, therefore we shall not bring this assembly unto
the land He gives them." By the lips of Moses himself the oracle was
given. It was tragical indeed.

But how could the brothers who had yielded to this dictatorial
hierarchical temper be men of God again, fit for another stroke of
work for Him, unless, coming forth into action, their pride had
disclosed itself, and with whatever bad result shown its real nature?
We deplore the pride; we almost weep to see its manifestation; we
hear with sorrow the judgment of Moses and Aaron. But well is it
that the worst should come to light, that the evil thing should be
seen, God-dishonoring, sacrilegious; should be judged, repented of,
punished. Moses must "feel himself and find the blessedness of being
little." "By that sin fell the angels," that sin unconfessed. Here in
open sight of all, in hearing of all, Moses lays down the godhead he
had assumed, acknowledges unworthiness, takes his place humbly among
those who shall not inherit the promise. The worst of all happens
to a man when his pride remains unrevealed, uncondemned; grows to
more and more, and he never discovers that he is attempting to carry
himself with the air of Providence, of Divinity.

The error of Moses was great, yet only showed him to be a man of like
passions with ourselves. Who can realise the mercy and lovingkindness
that are in the heart of God, the danger of limiting the Holy One of
Israel? The murmuring of the Israelites against Jehovah had often
been rebuked, had often brought them into condemnation. Moses had
once and again intervened as their mediator and saved them from
death. Remembering the times when he had to speak of Jehovah's
anger, he feels himself justified in his own resentment. He thought
the murmuring was over; it is resumed unexpectedly, the same old
complaints are made and he is carried away by what appears zeal for
Jehovah. Yet there is in him even, the man, much more in God, a
better than the seeming best. Pathetic indeed is it to find Moses
judged as one who has failed from the high place he could have
reached by a final effort of self-mastery, one more generous thought.
And we see him fail at a point where we often fail. Sternly to judge
our own right of condemning before we speak sternly in the name of
God; neither to do nor say anything which implies the assumption of
knowledge, justice, charity we do not possess--how few of us are
in these respects blameless for a day! Far back in sacred history
this high duty is presented so as to evoke the best endeavour of the
Christian soul and warn it from the place of failure.

       *       *       *       *       *

There is preserved in the Book of Exodus (xxxvi.) a list of the Kings
of Edom reaching down apparently to about the establishment of the
monarchy of Israel. Recent archæology sees no reason to question the
genuineness of this historical notice or the names of the Dukes of
Edom given in the same passage. With varying boundaries the region
over which they ruled extended southward from Moab and the Dead Sea
as far as the Elanitic Gulf. Kadesh, considerably west of the Arabah,
is described as being on its uttermost border. But the district
inhabited by the Edomites proper was a narrow strip of rugged country
eastward of the range of Mount Seir. One pass giving entrance to the
heart of Edom led by the base of Mount Hor towards Selah, afterwards
called Petra, which occupied a fine but narrow valley in the heart of
broken mountains. To reach the south of Moab the Israelites desired
probably to take a road a good deal farther north. But this would
have led them by Bozrah the capital, and the king who reigned at the
time refused them the route. The message sent him in Moses' name
was friendly, even appealing. The brotherhood of Edom and Israel was
claimed; the sore travail of the tribes in Egypt and the deliverance
wrought by Jehovah were given as reasons; promise was made that no
harm should be done to field or vineyard: Israel would journey by
the king's way turning neither to the right nor the left. When the
first request was refused Moses added that if his people drank of the
water while passing through Edom they would pay for it. The appeal,
however, was made in vain. An attempt to advance without permission
was repelled. An armed force barred the way, and most reluctantly the
desert road was again taken.

We can easily understand the objection of the King of Edom. Many of
the defiles through which the main road wound were not adapted for
the march of a great multitude. The Israelites could scarcely have
gone through Edom without injuring the fields and vineyards; and
though the undertaking was given in good faith by Moses, how could
he answer for the whole of that undisciplined host he was leading
towards Canaan? The safety of Edom lay in denying to other peoples
access to its strongholds. The difficulty of approaching them was
their main security. Israel might go quietly through the land now;
but its armies might soon return with hostile intent. Water, too,
was very precious in some parts of Edom. Enough was stored in the
rainy season to supply the wants of the inhabitants; beyond that
there was none to spare, and for this necessary of life money was
no equivalent. A multitude travelling with cattle would have made
scarcity, or famine,--might have left the region almost desolate.
With the information they had, Moses and Joshua may have believed
that there were no insuperable difficulties. Yet the best generalship
might have been unequal to the task of controlling Israel in the
passes and among the cultivated fields of that singular country.

There is no need to go back on the history of Jacob and Esau in order
to account for the apparent incivility of the King of Edom to the
Israelites and Moses. That quarrel had surely been long forgotten! But
we need not wonder if the kinship of the two peoples was no availing
argument in the case. Those were not times when covenants like that
proposed could be easily trusted, nor was Israel on an expedition the
nature of which could reassure the Idumæans. And we have parallels
enough in modern life to show that from the only point of view the king
could take he was amply justified. There are demands men make on others
without perceiving how difficult it will be to grant them, demands on
time, on means, on goodwill, demands that would involve moral as well
as material sacrifice. The foolish intrusions of well-meaning people
may be borne for a time, but there is a limit beyond which they cannot
be suffered. Our whole life cannot be exposed to the derangements of
every scheme-maker, every claimant. If we are to do our own work well,
it is absolutely necessary that a certain space shall be jealously
guarded, where the gains of thought may be kept safely and the ideas
revealed to us may be developed. That any one's life should be open so
that travellers, even with some right of close fraternity, may pass
through the midst of it, drink of the wells, and trample down the
fields of growing purpose or ripening thought, this is not required.
Good-will makes an open gate; Christian feeling makes one still wider
and bids many welcome. But he who would keep his heart in fruitfulness
must be careful to whom he grants admission. There is beginning to be
a sort of jealousy of any one's right to his own reserve. It is not
a single Israel approaching from the West, but a score, with their
different schemes, who come from every side demanding right of way and
even of abode. Each presses a Christian claim on whatever is wanted
of our hospitality. But if all had what they desire there would be no
personal life left.

On the other hand, some whose highways are broad, whose wells and
streams are overflowing, whose lives are not fully engaged, show
themselves exclusive and inhospitable--like those proprietors of vast
moors who refuse a path to the waterfall or the mountain-top. Without
Edom's excuse, some modern Idumæans warn every enterprise off their
bounds. Neither brotherhood nor any other claim is acknowledged. They
would find advantage, not injury, in the visit of those who bring
new enthusiasms and ideas to bear on existence. They would learn of
other aims than occupy them, a better hope than they possess. Their
sympathy would be enlisted in heavenly or humane endeavours, and
new alliances would quicken as well as broaden their life. But they
will not listen; they continue selfish to the end. Against all such
Christianity has to urge the law of brotherhood and of sacrifice.

       *       *       *       *       *

We have assumed that Kadesh was on the western side of the Arabah,
and it is necessary to take ver. 20 as referring to an incident that
occurred after the Israelites had crossed the valley. Not otherwise
can we explain how they came to encamp among the mountains on the
eastern side. The repulse must have been sustained by the tribes
after they had left Kadesh and penetrated some distance into the
northern defiles of Idumæa. Bozrah, the capital, appears to have been
situated about half way between Petra and the southern extremity of
the Dead Sea, and a force issuing from that stronghold would divert
the march southward so that the Israelites could safely encamp only
when they reached the open plain near Mount Hor. Hither therefore
they retreated: and here it was that Moses and Aaron were parted. The
time had come for the high priest to be gathered to his people.

Scarcely any locality in the whole track of the wandering is better
identified than this. From the plain of the Arabah the mountains rise
in a range parallel to the valley, in ridges of sandstone, limestone,
and chalk, with cliffs and peaks of granite. The defile that leads by
Mount Hor to Petra is peculiarly grand, for here the range attains
its greatest height. "Through a narrow ravine," says one traveller,
"we ascended a steep mountain side, amid a splendour of colour from
bare rock or clothing verdure, and a solemnity of light on the broad
summits, of shade in the profound depths--a memory for ever....
It was the same narrow path through which in old times had passed
other trains of camels laden with the merchandise of India, Arabia,
and Egypt. And thus having ascended, we had next a long descent
to the foot of Mount Hor, which stands isolated." The mountain
rises about four thousand feet above the Arabah and has a peculiar
double crest. On its green pastures there graze flocks of sheep and
goats; and inhabited caves--used perhaps since the days of the old
Horites--are to be seen here and there. The ascent of the mountain
is aided by steps cut in the rock, "indeed a tolerably complete
winding staircase," for the chapel or mosque on the summit, said to
cover the grave of Aaron, is a notable Arab sanctuary, resorted to
by many pilgrims. "From the roof of the tomb--now only an ordinary
square building with a dome--northward and southward, a hilly desert;
eastward, the mountains of Edom, within which Petra lies hid;
westward, the desert of the Arabah, or wilderness of Zin; beyond
that, the desert of Et-Tîh; beyond that again, in the far horizon,
the blue-tinted hills of the Land of Promise."

Such is the mountain at the foot of which Israel lay encamped when
the Lord said unto Moses, "Take Aaron and Eleazar his son, and bring
them up unto Mount Hor; and strip Aaron of his garments, and put them
upon Eleazar his son: and Aaron shall be gathered unto his people
and shall die there." We imagine the sorrowful gaze of the multitude
following the three climbers, the aged brothers who had borne so long
the burden and heat of the day, and Eleazar, already well advanced in
life, who was to be invested with his father's office. Coming soon
after the death of Miriam, this departure of Aaron broke sharply one
other link that still bound Israel with its past. The old times were
receding, the new had not yet come into sight.

The life of a good man may close mournfully. While some in leaving
the world cross cheerfully the river beyond which the smiling fields
of the heavenly land are full in view, others there are who, even
with the faith of the Conqueror of death to sustain them, have no
gladdening prospect at the last. Only from a distance Aaron saw
the Land of Promise; from so great a distance that its beauty and
fruitfulness could not be realised. The sullen gleam of the Lake of
Sodom, lying in its grim hollow, was visible away to the north.
Besides that the dim eyes could make out little. But Edom lay below;
and the tribes would have a great circuit round that inhospitable
land, would have to traverse another desert beyond the horizon to
the east, ere they could reach Moab and draw near to Canaan. A true
patriot, Aaron would think more of the people than of himself. And
the confidence he had in the friendliness of God and the wisdom of
his brother would scarcely dispel the shadow that settled on him as
he forecast the journey of the tribes and saw the difficulties they
were yet to meet. So not a few are called away from the world when
the great ends for which they have toiled are still remote. The cause
of liberty or of reformation with which life has been identified may
even appear farther from success than years before. Or again, the
close of life may be darkened by family troubles more pressing than
any that were experienced earlier. A man may be heavily burdened
without distrusting God on his own account, or doubting that in the
long run all shall be well. He may be troubled because the immediate
prospect shows no escape from painful endurance for those he loves.
He does not sorrow perhaps that he has found the promises of life to
be illusory; but he is grieved for dear friends who must yet make
that discovery, who shall travel many a league and never win the
battle or pass beyond the wilderness.

The mind of Aaron as he went to his death was darkened by the
consciousness of a great failure. Kadesh lay westward across the
valley, and the thought of what took place there was with the
brothers as they climbed Mount Hor and stood upon its summit. They
had repented, but they had not yet forgiven themselves. How could
they, when they saw in the temper of the people too plain proofs
that their lese-majesty had borne evil fruit? It needs much faith
to be sure that God will remedy the evil we have done; and so long
as the means cannot be seen, the shadow of self-reproach must
remain. Many a good man, climbing the last slope, feels the burden
of transgressions committed long before. He has done his utmost to
restore the defences of truth and rebuild the altars of witness which
in thoughtless youth or proud manhood he cast down. But circumstances
have hindered the work of reparation; and many who saw his sin have
passed far beyond the reach of his repentance. The thought of past
faults may sadly obscure the close of a Christian life. The end would
indeed be hopeless often were it not for trust in the omnipotent
grace which brings again that which was driven away and binds up that
which was broken. Yet since the very work of God and the victory of
Christ are made more difficult by things a believer has done, is it
possible that he should always have happy recollections of the past
as life draws near its end?

It was no doubt honourable to Aaron that his death was appointed to
be on that mountain in Seir. Old as he was, he would never think of
complaining that he was ordained to climb it. Yet to the tired limbs
it was a steep, difficult path, a way of sorrow. Here, also, we find
resemblance to the close of many a worthy life. High office in the
Church has been well served, overflowing wealth has been used in
beneficence; but at the last reverses have come. The man who was always
prosperous is now stripped of his possessions. Darkened in mind by
successive losses, bereaved of friends and of power, he has to climb
a dreary mountain-path to the sharp end. It may be really honourable
to such a man that God has thus appointed his death to be not in the
midst of luxury, but on the rugged peak of loss. Understanding things
aright, he should say: "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away;
blessed be the name of the Lord." But if dependence is felt as shame,
if he who gave freely to others feels it a sore thing to receive from
others, who can have the heart to blame the good man because he does
not triumph here? And if he has to climb alone, no Eleazar with him,
scarcely one human aid, what shall we say? Now life must gird itself
and go whither it would not. Sad is the journey, but not into night.
The Christian does not impeach Divine providence nor grieve that
earthly good is finally taken away. Though his life has been in his
generosity, not in his possessions, yet he will confess that the last
bitter trial is needful to the perfecting of faith.

Should the believer triumph over death through Christ? It is
his privilege; but some display unwarranted complacency. They
have confidence in the work of Christ; they boast that they rest
everything on Him. But is it well with them if they have no sorrow
because of days and years that ran to waste? Is it well with them if
they deplore no failure in Christian effort when the reason is that
they never gave heart and strength to any difficult task? Who can be
satisfied with the apparent victory of faith at the last of one who
never had high hopes for himself and others, and therefore was never
disappointed? Better the sorrowful ending to a life that has dared
great things and been defeated, that has cherished a pure ideal and
come painfully short of it, than the exultation of those who even as
Christians have lived to themselves.

Perhaps the circumstances that attended the death of Aaron were
to him the finest discipline of life. Climbing the steep slope at
the command of God, would he not feel himself brought into a closer
relation with the Eternal Will? Would he not feel himself separated
from the world and gathered up into the quiet massiveness of life
with Him who is from everlasting to everlasting? The years of a high
priest, dealing constantly with sacred things and symbols, might
easily fall into a routine not more helpful to generous thought and
spiritual exaltation than the habits of secular life. One might exist
among sacrifices and purifications till the mind became aware of
nothing beyond ritual and its orderly performance. True, this had not
been the case with Aaron during a considerable portion of the time
since he began his duties. There had been many events by means of
which Jehovah broke in upon the priests with His great demands. But
thirty-seven years had been comparatively uneventful. And now the
little world of camp and tabernacle court, the sacred shrine with its
ark, the symbolic dwelling-place of God, must have their contrast
in the broad spaces filled with gleaming light, the blue vault, the
widespread hills and valleys, the heavens which are Jehovah's throne,
the earth which is His footstool. The bustle of Israel's little life
is left behind for the calm of the mountain land. The high priest
finds another vestibule of the dwelling of Jehovah than that which
he has been accustomed to enter with sprinkled blood and the pungent
fumes of the incense.

Is it not good thus to be called away from the business of the world,
immersed in which every day men have lost the due proportions of
things, both of what is earthly and what is spiritual? They have
to leave the computations recorded in their books, and what bulks
largely in the gossip of the way and the news of the town; they are
to climb where greater spaces can be seen, and human life, both as
brief and as immortal, shall be understood in its relations to God.
Often those who have this call addressed to them are most unwilling
to obey. It is painful to lose the old standards of proportion, to
hear no longer the familiar noise of wheels, to see no machinery,
no desks, no ledgers, to read no newspapers, to have the quiet, the
slow-moving days, the moonless or moonlit nights. But if reflection
follows, as it should, and brings wisdom, the change has saved a
man who was near to being lost. The things he toiled for once, as
well as the things he dreaded,--that success, this breath of adverse
opinion,--seem little in the new light, scarcely disturb the new
atmosphere. One thus called apart with God, learning what are the
real elements of life, may look with pity on his former self, yet
gather out of the experience that had small value, for the most part,
here and there a jewel of price. And the wise, becoming wiser, will
feel preparation made for the greater existence that lies beyond.

Moses accompanied his brother to the mountain top. By his hands,
with all considerateness, the priestly robes were taken from Aaron's
shoulders and put on Eleazar. The true friend he had all along relied
upon was with the dying man at the last, and closed his eyes. In this
there was a palliation of the decree under which it would have been
terrible to suffer alone; yet in the end the loneliness of death had
to be felt. We know a Friend who passed through death for us, and
made a way into the higher life, but still we have our dread of the
solitude. How much heavier must it have weighed when no clear hope of
immortality shone upon the hill. The vastness of nature was around
the dying priest of Israel, his face was turned to the skies. But
the thrill of Divine love we find in the touch of Christ did not
reassure him. "These all ... received not the promise, God having
provided some better thing concerning us, that apart from us they
should not be made perfect."

Eleazar followed Aaron and took up the work of the priesthood,
not less ably, let us believe, yet not precisely with the same
spirit, the same endowments. And indeed to have one in all respects
like Aaron would not have served. The new generation, in new
circumstances, needs a new minister. Office remains; but, as history
moves on, it means always something different. When the hour comes
that requires a clear step to be taken away from old notions and
traditions of duty, neither he who holds the office nor those to whom
he has ministered should complain or doubt. It is not good that one
should cling to work merely because he has served well and may still
seem able to serve; often it is the case that before death commands a
change the time for one has come. Even the men who are most useful to
the world, Paul, Apollos, Luther, do not die too soon. It may appear
to us that a man who has done noble work has no successor. When,
for instance, England loses its Dr. Arnold, Stanley, Lightfoot, and
we look in vain for one to whom the robes are becoming, we have to
trust that by some education they did not foresee the Church has to
be perfected. The same theory, nominally, is not the same when others
undertake to apply it. The same ceremonies have another meaning
when performed by other hands. There are ways to the full fruition
of Christ's government which go as far about as Israel's to Canaan
round the land of Moab, for a time as truly retrogressive. But the
great Leader the one High Priest of the new covenant, never fails
His Church or His world, and the way that does not hasten, as well as
that which makes straight for the goal, is within His purpose, leads
to the fulfilment among men of His mediatorial design.




                                  XVII

                _THE LAST MARCH AND THE FIRST CAMPAIGN_

                              NUMBERS xxi


It has been suggested in a previous chapter that the repulse of the
Israelites by the King of Arad took place on the occasion when, after
the return of the spies, a portion of the army endeavoured to force its
way into Canaan. If that explanation of the passage with which chap.
xxi. opens cannot be accepted, then the movements of the tribes after
they were driven back from Edom must have been singularly vacillating.
Instead of turning southward along the Arabah they appear to have moved
northward from Mount Hor and made an attempt to enter Canaan at the
southern end of the Dead Sea. Arad was in the Negeb or South Country,
and the Canaanites there, keeping guard, must have descended from the
hills and inflicted a defeat which finally closed that way.

From the time of the departure from Kadesh onward no mention is made
of the pillar of cloud. It may have still moved as the standard of
the host; yet the unsuccessful attempt to pass through Edom, followed
possibly by a northward march, and then by a southward journey to the
Elanitic Gulf when they "compassed Mount Seir many days" (Deut. ii.
1), would appear to prove that the authoritative guidance had in some
way failed. It is a suggestion, which, however, can only be advanced
with diffidence, that after the day at Kadesh when the words fell from
Moses' lips, "Hear now, ye rebels," his power as a leader declined, and
that the guidance of the march fell mainly into the hands of Joshua,--a
brave soldier indeed, but no acknowledged representative of Jehovah.
It is at all events clear that attempts had now to be made in one
direction and another to find a feasible route. Moses may have retired
from the command, partly on account of age, but even more because he
felt that he had in part lost his authority. Israel, moreover, had to
become a military nation: and Moses, though nominally the head of the
tribes, had to stand aside to a great extent that the new development
might proceed. In a short time Joshua would be sole leader; already he
appears to hold the military command.

The journey from Mount Hor to the borders of Moab by way of the Red
Sea, or Yâm-Suph, is very briefly noticed in the narrative. Oboth,
Iye-abarim, Zared, are the only three names mentioned in chap. xxi.
before the border of Moab is reached. Chap. xxxiii. gives Zalmonah,
Punon, Oboth, and lastly Iye-abarim, which is said to be in the
border of Moab. The mention of these names suggests nothing as to the
extremely trying nature of the journey; that is only indicated by
the statement, "the soul of the people was much discouraged because
of the way." The truth is, that of all the stages of the wandering,
these along the Arabah, and from the Elanitic Gulf eastward and
northward to the valley of Zared, were perhaps the most difficult
and perilous. The Wady Arabah is "an expanse of shifting sands,
broken by innumerable undulations, and counter-sected by a hundred
watercourses." Along this plain the route lay for fifty miles, in
the track of the furious sirocco and amidst terrible desolation.
Turning eastward from the palm-groves of Elath and the beautiful
shores of the Gulf, the way next entered a tract of the Arabian
wilderness outside the border of Edom. Oboth lay, perhaps, east from
Maan, still an inhabited city, and the point of departure for one
who journeys from Palestine into central Arabia. Out from Maan this
desert lies, and is thus described:--"Before and around us extended
a wide and level plain, blackened over with countless pebbles of
basalt and flint, except when the moonbeams gleamed white on little
intervening patches of clear sand, or on yellowish streaks of
withered grass, the scanty produce of the winter rains, and now dried
into hay. Over all a deep silence which even our Arab companions
seemed fearful of breaking; when they spoke it was in a half whisper
and in few words, while the noiseless tread of our camels sped
stealthily but rapidly through the gloom without disturbing its
stillness."[9] For one hundred miles the route for Israel lay through
this wilderness; and it is hardly possible to escape the conviction
that although little is said of the experiences of the way the tribes
must have suffered enormously and been greatly reduced in number. As
for cattle, we must conclude that hardly any survived. Where camels
sustain themselves with the greatest difficulty, oxen and sheep would
certainly perish. There had come the necessity for a rapid advance,
to be made at whatever hazard. All that would retard the progress
of the people had to be sacrificed. There is indeed some ground for
the supposition that part of the tribes remained near Kadesh while
the main body made the long and perilous detour. The army entering
Canaan by way of Jericho would as soon as possible open communication
with those who had been left behind.

The only recorded episode belonging to the period of this march is
that of the fiery serpents. In the Arabah and the whole North Arabian
region the cobra, or _naja haie_, is common, and is superstitiously
dreaded. Other serpents are so innocuous by comparison that this
chiefly receives the attention of travellers. One incident is
recorded thus by Mr. Stuart-Glennie:--"Two cobras have been caught,
and one, which has been dexterously pinned by the neck in the slit
end of a stick, its captor comes up triumphantly to exhibit.... After
a time the fellow let it go, refusing to kill it, and permitting it
to glide away unharmed. This I understood to be from fear--fear of
the vengeance after death of what, in life, had been incapable of
defending itself. At Petra ... the snakes which Hamilton, a fearless
hunter of them, killed, the Arabs would not allow to lie within the
encampment, asserting that we should thus bring the whole snake-tribe
to which the individual belonged to avenge the death of their
kinsman." Whether all the serpents that attacked the Israelites were
cobras is doubtful; but the description "fiery" seems to point to
the effects of the cobra-poison, which produces an intense burning
sensation in the whole body. Another explanation of the adjective is
found in the metallic sparkle of the reptiles.

"Much people of Israel died" of the bites of these serpents, which,
disturbed by the travellers as they went sullenly and carelessly
along, issued from crevices of the ground and from the low shrubs
in which they lurked, and at once fastened on feet and hands. The
peculiar character of the new enemy caused universal alarm. As one
and another fell writhing to the ground, and after a few convulsive
movements died in agony, a feeling of terrified revulsion spread
through the ranks. Pestilence was natural, familiar, as compared with
this new punishment which their murmuring about the light food and
the thirst of the desert had brought on them. The serpent, lithe and
subtle, scarcely seen in the twilight, creeping into the tents at
night, quick at any moment, without provocation, to use its poisoned
fangs, has appeared the hereditary enemy of man. As the instrument
of the Tempter it was connected with the origin of human misery; it
appeared the embodied evil which from the very dust sprang forth to
seek the evil-doer. Many ways had Jehovah of reaching men who showed
distrust and resented His will. This was in a sense the most dreadful.

The serpents that lurked in the Israelites' way and darted suddenly
upon them are always felt to be analogues of the subtle sins that
spring on man and poison his life. What traveller knows the moment
when he may feel in his soul the sharp sting of evil desire that
will burn in him to a deadly fever? Men who have been wounded can,
for a time, hide from fellow-travellers their mortal hurt. They keep
on the march and make shift to look like others. Then the madness
reveals itself. Words are spoken, deeds are done, that show the vile
inoculation taking effect. By-and-by there is another moral death.
Humanity may well fear the power of evil thoughts, of lusts, of
envious feelings, that serpent-like attack and madden the soul; may
well look up and cry aloud to God for a sufficient remedy. No herb
nor balm to be found in the gardens or fields of earth is an antidote
to this poison; nor can the surgeon excise the tainted flesh, or
destroy the virus by any brand of penance.

Resuming his generous part as intercessor for the people, Moses
sought and found the means to help them. He was to make a serpent
of brass, an image of the foe, and erect it on a standard full in
sight of the camp, and to it the eyes of the stricken people were
to be turned. If they realised the Divine purpose of grace and
trusted Jehovah while they looked, the power of the poison would be
destroyed. The serpent of brass was nothing in itself, was, as long
afterwards Hezekiah declared it to be, _nehushtan_; but as a symbol
of the help and salvation of God it served the end. The stricken
revived: the camp, almost in a panic through superstitious fear, was
calmed. Once more it was known that He who smote the sinful, in wrath
remembered mercy. It must be assumed that there was repentance and
faith on the part of those who looked. The serpents appear as the
means of punishment, and the poison loses its effect with the growth
of the new spirit of submission. It has rightly been pointed out that
the heathen view of the serpent as a healing power has no countenance
here. That singular belief must have had its origin in the worship
of the serpent which arose from dread of it as an embodiment of
demoniacal energy. Our passage treats it as a creature of God, ready,
like the lightning and the pestilence, or like the frogs and insects
of the Egyptian plagues, to be used as an instrument in bringing home
to men their sins.

And when our Lord recalled the episode of the healing of Israel by
means of the brazen serpent, He certainly did not mean that the
image in itself was in any sense a type or even symbol of Him. It
was lifted up; He was to be lifted up: it was to be looked upon
with the gaze of repentance and faith; He is to be regarded, as He
hangs on the cross, with the contrite, believing look: it signified
the gracious interposition of God, who was Himself the True Healer;
Christ is lifted up and gives Himself on the cross in accordance
with the Father's will, to reveal and convey His love--these are
the points of similarity. "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the
wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up." The uplifting,
the healing, are symbolic. The serpent-image fades out of sight.
Christ is seen giving Himself in generous love, showing us the way of
life when He dies, the just for the unjust. He is the power of God
unto salvation. With Him we die that He may live in us. He judges us,
condemns us as sinners, and at the same time turns our judgment into
acquittal, our condemnation into liberty. Israel's past and the grace
of Jehovah to the stricken tribes are connected by our Lord's words
with the redemption provided through His own sacrifice. The Divine
Healer of humanity is there and here; but here in spiritual life, in
quickening grace, not in an empirical symbol. Christ on the cross is
no mere sign of a higher energy; the very energy is with Him, most
potent when He dies.

Like the serpent poison, that of sin creates a burning fever, a
mortal disease. But into all the springs and channels of infected
life the renovating grace of God enters through the long deep look
of faith. We see the Man, our brother, full of sympathy, the Son of
God our sin-bearer. The pity is profound as our need; the strong
spiritual might, sin-conquering, life-giving, is enough for each,
more than sufficient for all. We look--to wonder, to hope, to trust,
to love, to rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory. We see
our condemnation, the handwriting of ordinances that is against
us--and we see it cancelled through the sacrifice of our Divine
Redeemer. Is it the death that moves us first? Then we perceive love
stronger than death, love that can never die. Our souls go forth to
find that love, they are bound by it for ever to the Infinite Truth,
the Eternal Purity, the Immortal Life. We find ourselves at length
whole and strong, fit for the enterprises of God. The trumpet call is
heard; we respond with joy. We will fight the good fight of faith,
suffering and achieving all through Christ.

       *       *       *       *       *

At Iye-abarim, the Heaps of the Outlands, "which is toward the
sunrising," the worst of the desert march was over. That the long and
dreary wilderness did not swallow up the host is, humanly speaking,
matter of astonishment. Yet singular light is thrown on the journey
by an incident recorded by Mr. Palmer. In the midst of the broken
country extending from the neighbourhood of the ancient Kadesh to the
Arabah, he and his companions encamped at the head of the Wady Abu
Taraimeh, which slopes to the south-east. Here in the midst of the
desolate mountains a quite young girl, small, solitary traveller, was
found. She was on her way to Abdeh, some twenty miles behind, and had
come from a place called Hesmeh, six days' journey beyond Akabah, a
distance of some hundred and fifty miles. "She had been without bread
or water, and had only eaten a few herbs to support herself by the
way." The simple trust of the child could achieve what strong men
might have pronounced impossible. And the Israelites, knowing little
of the road, trusted and hoped and pressed on till the green hills of
Moab were at last in sight. The march was eastward of the present
highway, which keeps within the border of Edom and passes through
El Buseireh, the ancient Bozrah. We may suppose that the Israelites
followed a track afterwards chosen for a Roman road and still
traceable. The valley of Zared, perhaps the modern Feranjy, would be
reached about fifteen miles east from the southern gulf of the Dead
Sea. Thence, striking on a watercourse and keeping to the desert side
of Ar, the modern Rabba, the Hebrews would have a march of about
twenty miles to the Arnon, which at that time formed the boundary
between Moab and the Amorites.

At this point the history incorporates, why we cannot tell, part of
an old song from the "Book of the Wars of Jehovah."

      "Vaheb in Suphah,
       And the valleys of Arnon,
       And the slope of the valleys
       That inclineth toward the dwelling of Ar,
       And leaneth upon the border of Moab."

The picturesque topography of this chant, the meaning of which as a
whole is obscured for us by the first line, may be the sole reason of
its quotation. If we read "Vaheb in storm" we have a word-picture of
the scene under impressive conditions; and if the storm is that of
war the relique may belong to the time of the contest described in
ver. 26 when the Amorite chief, crossing Jordan, gained the northern
heights and drove the Moabites in confusion across the Arnon toward
the stronghold of Ar, some twelve or fifteen miles to the south. Yet
another ancient song is connected with a station called Beer, or the
Well, some spot in the wilderness north of the Arnon valley. Moses
points out the place where water may be found, and as the digging
goes on the chant is heard:

      "Spring up, O well; sing ye unto it:
       The well which the princes digged,
       Which the nobles of the people delved,
       With the sceptre, and with their staves."

The seeking of the precious water by rude art in a thirsty valley
kindles the mind of some poet of the people. And his song is
spirited, with ample recognition of the zeal of the princes who
themselves take part in the labour. While they dig he chants, and the
people join in the song till the words are fixed in their memory, so
as to become part of the traditions of Israel.

The finding of a spring, the discovery that by their own effort they
can reach the living water laid up for them beneath the sand, is
an event to the Israelites, worth preserving in a national ballad.
What does this imply? That the resources of nature and the means of
unlocking them were still only beginning to be understood? We are
almost compelled to think so, whatever conclusions this may involve.
And Israel, slowly finding out the Divine provision lying beneath the
surface of things, is a type of those who very gradually discover
the possibilities that are concealed beneath the seemingly ordinary
and unpromising. By the beaten tracks of life, in its arid valleys,
there are, for those who dig, wells of comfort, springs of truth and
salvation. Men are athirst for inspiration, for power. They think of
these as endowments for which they must wait. In point of fact they
have but to open the fountains of conscience and of generous feeling
in order to find what they desire. Multitudes faint by the way because
they will not seek for themselves the water of Divine truth that would
reinvigorate their being. When we trust to wells opened by others we
cannot obtain the supply suited to our special need. Each for himself
must discover Divine providence, duty, conviction, the springs of
repentance and of love. The many wait, and never get beyond spiritual
dependence. The few, some with sceptre, some with staff, dig for
themselves and for the rest wells of new ardour and sustaining thought.
The whole of human life, we may say, has beneath its surface veins and
rills of heavenly water. In heart and conscience we can find the will
of our Maker, the springs of His promises, revelations of His power
and love. More than we know of the living water that flows through the
world of humanity like a river has its source in springs that have been
dug in waste places by those who reflected, who saw in man's world and
man's soul the work of the "faithful Creator."

       *       *       *       *       *

From Beer in the wilderness the march skirted the green fields and
valleys of the country once held by the Moabites, now under Sihon the
Amorite. When they had gone but a few stages along this route the
leaders of the host found it necessary to enter into negotiations.
They were now some twenty miles only by road from the fords of
Jordan, but Heshbon, a strong fortress, confronted them. The Amorites
must be either conciliated or attacked. This time there was no
circuitous way that could be taken; a critical hour had come.

The presence of the Amorites on the eastern side of Jordan is accounted
for in a passage extending from vv. 26-30. Moab had apparently, as
at a later time referred to by one of the prophets, been at ease,
resting securely behind her mountain rampart. Suddenly the Amorite
warriors, crossing the ford of Jordan and pressing up the defile, had
attacked and taken Heshbon; and with the loss of that fortress Moab was
practically defenceless. Field by field the old inhabitants had been
driven back, out into the desert, southward beyond the Arnon. Even as
far as Ar itself the victors had carried fire and sword. Retiring, they
left all south of the Arnon to the Moabites, and themselves occupied
the country from Arnon to Jabbok, a stretch of sixty miles. The song of
vv. 27-30 commemorates this ancient war:--

      "Come ye to Heshbon,
       Let the city of Sihon be built and established;
       For a fire is gone out of Heshbon,
       A flame from the city of Sihon:
       It hath devoured Ar of Moab,
       The Lords of the High Places of Arnon.
       Woe to thee, Moab!
       Thou art undone, O people of Chemosh."

The chant rejoicing over the defeated goes on to tell how the sons
of Moab fled, and her daughters were taken captive; how the arms of
the Amorite were victorious from Heshbon to Dibon, over Nophah and
Medeba. The Israelites arriving soon after this sanguinary conflict,
found the conquered region immediately beyond the Arnon open to their
advance. The Amorites had not yet occupied the whole of the land;
their power was concentrated about Heshbon, which according to the
song had been rebuilt.

The request made of Sihon to allow the passage of a people on
its way to Jordan and the country beyond came possibly at a time
when the Amorites were scarcely prepared for resistance. They had
been successful, but their forces were insufficient for the large
district they had taken, larger considerably than that on the other
side of Jordan from which they had migrated. In the circumstances
Sihon would not grant the request. These Israelites were bent on
establishing themselves as rivals: the answer accordingly was a
refusal, and war began. Refreshed by the spoil of the fields of
Arnon, and now almost within sight of Canaan, the Hebrew fighting
men were full of ardour. The conflict was sharp and decisive.
Apparently in a single battle the power of Sihon was broken. Leaving
his fortress the Amorite chief had gone out against Israel "into the
wilderness"; and at Jahaz the fight went against him. From Arnon to
Jabbok his land lay open to the conquerors.

And having once tasted success the warriors of Israel did not sheathe
their swords. The fortress of Amman guarded the land of the Ammonites
so strongly that it seemed for the time perilous to strike in that
direction. Crossing the valley of the Jabbok, however, and leaving
the fierce Ammonites unattacked, the Israelites had Bashan before
them; a fertile region of innumerable streams, populous, and with
many strongholds and cities. There was hesitation for a time, but the
oracle of Jehovah reassured the army. Og the king of Bashan waited
the attack at Edrei in the north of his kingdom, about forty miles
east from the Sea of Galilee. Israel was again victorious. The king
of Bashan, his sons, and his army were cut to pieces.

Such was the rapid success the Israelites had in their first
campaign, amazing enough, though partly explained by the strifes and
wars which had reduced the strength of the peoples they attacked.
We must not suppose, however, that though the Amorites and the
people of Bashan were defeated, their lands were occupied or could
be occupied at once. What had been done was rather in the way of
defending the passage of the Jordan than providing a settlement for
any of the tribes. When the Reubenites, Gadites, and Manassites came
to dwell in those districts east of the Jordan, they had to make good
their ground against the old inhabitants who remained.

The army had passed into the north, but the main body of the people
descended from the neighbourhood of Heshbon by a pass leading to the
Jordan Valley. The return of the victorious troops after a few months
gave them the assurance that at last they could safely prepare for
the long expected entrance into the Land of Promise.

Suffering and the discipline of the wilderness had educated the
Israelites for the day of action. By what a long and tedious journey
they reached their success! Behind them, yet with them still, was
Sinai, whose lightnings and awful voices made them aware of the power
of Jehovah into covenant with whom they entered, whose law they
received. As a people bound solemnly to the unseen Almighty God they
left that mountain and journeyed towards Kadesh. But the covenant had
neither been thoroughly accepted nor thoroughly understood. They began
their march from the mountain of the Lord as the people of Jehovah,
yet expecting that He was to do all for them, require little at their
hands. The other side of privilege, the duty they owed to God, had
to be impressed by many a painful chastisement, by the sorrows and
disasters of the way. Wonderfully, all things considered, had they
sped, though their murmurings were the sign of an ignorant rebellious
temper which was incompatible with any moral progress. By the long
delay in the wilderness of Kadesh that disposition had to be cured. In
a region not fertile like Canaan itself, yet capable of supporting the
tribes, they had to forget Egypt, realise that forward not backward was
their only way, that while desert after desert intervened now between
them and Goshen, they were within a day's march of the Promised Land.
But even this was not enough. Perhaps they might have crept gradually
northward; shifting their headquarters a few miles at a time till
they had taken possession of the Negeb and made a settlement of some
kind in Canaan. But if they had done so, as a nation of shepherds,
advancing timorously, not boldly, they would have had no strength at
the opening of their career. And it was decreed that by another door,
in another spirit, they should enter. Edom refused them access to
the east country. They had again to gird up their loins for a long
journey. And that last terrible march was the discipline they required.
Resolutely kept to it by their leader, on through the Arabah, across
the desert, to the "Heaps of the Outlands towards the sunrising" they
went, with new need for courage, a new call to endure hardness every
day. Did they faint once, and turn murmurers again? The serpents stung
them in judgment, and the cure was provided in grace. They learned
once more that it was One they could not elude with whom they had to
do, One who could be severe and also kind, who could strike and also
save. Decimated, but knit together as they had never been, the tribes
reached the Arnon. And then, the first trial of their arms made, they
knew themselves a conquering people, a people with power, a people with
a destiny.

It is so in the making of manhood, in the discipline of the soul.
Sinai, and the awful declarations of duty and of the Divine claim
there, must enter into our life; it would be light, frivolous, and
incapable otherwise. But the revelation of power and righteousness
does not insure our submission to the power, our conformity to the
righteousness. Divine words have to be followed by Divine deeds; we
have to learn that in God's kingdom there is to be no murmuring,
no shrinking even from death, no turning back. It is a lesson that
tries the generations. How many will not learn it! In society, in
the Church, the rebellious spirit is shown and has to be corrected.
At the "Graves of Lust," at the "Place of Burning," murmurers are
judged, those who refuse God's way fall and are left behind. And
when the Land of Promise is in sight possession of it shall not be
easily obtained by those who are still half-wedded to the old life,
distrustful of the righteousness of God and His demand on the whole
love and service of the soul. There is indeed no heaven for those
who look back, who even if angels were to hurry them on would still
lament the losses of this life as irremediable. There must be the
courage of the daring soul that adventures all on faith, on the
Divine promise, on the eternity of the spiritual.

Wherefore, that the earthly temper may be taken out of us, we have
to cross desert after desert, to make long circuits through the hot
and thirsty wilderness even when we think our faith complete and our
hope nigh its fulfilment. It is as those who overcome we are to enter
the kingdom. Not as "the world's poor routed leavings," not obtaining
permission from Edomites or Amorites to slip ingloriously through their
land, but as those who with the sword of the Spirit can hew our own
way through falsehoods and bring down the lusts of the flesh and of the
mind, as warriors of God we are to reach and cross the border. How many
survive, having gone through discipline like this? How many overcome
and have the right to pass through the gate into the city?

FOOTNOTE:

[9] Palgrave, "Central and Eastern Arabia," p. 2.




                                 XVIII

                            _BALAAM INVOKED_

                           NUMBERS xxii. 1-19


While a part of the army of Israel was engaged in the campaign
against Bashan, the tribes remained "in the plains of Moab beyond
the Jordan at Jericho." The topography is given here, as elsewhere,
from the point of view of one dwelling in Canaan; and the locality
indicated is a level stretch of land, some five or six miles broad,
between the river and the hills. In this plain there was ample room
for the encampment, while along the Jordan and on the slopes to the
east all the produce of field and garden, the spoil of conquest, was
at the disposal of the Israelites. They rested therefore, after their
long journey, in sight of Canaan, waiting first for the return of
the troops, then for the command to advance; and the delay may very
likely have extended to several months.

Now the march of Israel had kept to the desert side of Moab, so that
the king and people of that land had no reason to complain. But the
campaign against the Amorites, ending so quickly and decisively
for the invaders, showed what might have taken place if they had
attacked Moab, what might yet come to pass if they turned southward
instead of crossing the Jordan. And there was great dismay. "Moab
was sore afraid of the people, because they were many: and Moab was
distressed because of the children of Israel." Manifestly it would
have been unwise for Balak the king of the Moabites to attack Israel
single-handed. But others might be enlisted against this new and
vigorous enemy, among them the Midianites. And to these Balak turned
to consult in the emergency.

By the "Midianites" we must understand the Bedawin of the time, the
desert tribes which possibly had their origin in Midian, east of the
Elanitic Gulf, but were now spread far and wide. On the borders of
Moab a large and important clan of this people fed their flocks; and
to their elders Balak appealed. "Now," he said, "shall this multitude
lick up all that is round about us, as the ox licketh up the grass
of the field." The result of the consultation was not an expedition
of war but one of a quite different kind. Even the wild Bedawin had
been dismayed by the firm resolute tread of the Israelites, a people
marching on, as no people had ever been seen to march, from faraway
Egypt to find a new home. The elders of Moab and of Midian cannot
decide on war; but superstition points to another means of attack.
May they not obtain a curse against Israel, under the influence of
which its strength shall decay? Is there not in Pethor one who knows
the God of this people and has the power of dreadful malediction?
They will send for him; Balaam shall invoke disaster on the invaders,
then peradventure Balak will prevail, and smite them, and drive them
out of the land.

There can be no doubt in what direction we are to look for Pethor,
the dwelling-place of the great diviner. It is "by the River," that
is to say, by the River Euphrates. It is in Aram, for thence Balaam
says Balak has brought him. It is in "the land of the children of
Ammo" (xxii. 5), for such is the preferable translation of the words
rendered "children of his people." The situation of Pethor has been
made out. "At an early period in Assyrian research," says Mr. A.
H. Sayce,[10] "Pethor was identified by Dr. Hincks with the Pitru
of the cuneiform inscriptions. Pitru stood on the western bank of
the Euphrates, close to its junction with the Sajur, and a little
to the north of the latter. It was consequently only a few miles to
the south of the Hittite capital Carchemish. Indeed, Shalmaneser
II. tells us explicitly that the city was called Pethor by 'the
Hittites.' It lay on the main road from east to west, and so occupied
a position of military and commercial importance." Originally an
Aramæan town, Pethor had received, on its conquest by the Hittites, a
new element of population from that race, and the two peoples lived
in it side by side. The Aramæans of Pethor called themselves "the
sons of (the god) Ammo"; and, according to Mr. Sayce, Dr. Neubauer
is right in explaining the name of Balaam as a compound of Baal with
Ammi, which occurs as a prefix in the Hebrew names Ammiel, Amminadab,
and others. It is also worthy of mention that the name of Balak's
father--Zippor, or "Bird"--occurs in the notice, still extant, of a
despatch sent by the Egyptian government to Palestine in the third
year of Menephtah II.

It may be further said with regard to Mr. Sayce's valuable work,
that he does not attempt to deal particularly with the prophecies
of Balaam. "They must," he says, "be explained by Hebrew philology
before the records of the monuments can be called upon to illustrate
them. It may be that the text is corrupt; it may be that passages
have been added at various times to the original prophecy of the
Aramæan seer; these are questions which must be settled before the
Assyriologist can determine when it was that the Kenite was carried
away captive, or when Asshur himself was 'afflicted.'"

The divination of which so great things were expected by Balak is
amply illustrated in the Babylonian remains. Among the Chaldeans
the art of divination rested "on the old belief in every object of
inanimate nature being possessed or inhabited by a spirit, and the
later belief in a higher power, ruling the world and human affairs
to the smallest detail, and constantly manifesting itself through
all things in nature as through secondary agents, so that nothing
whatever could occur without some deeper significance which might
be discovered and expounded by specially trained and favoured
individuals." The Chaldeo-Babylonians "not only carefully noted and
explained dreams, drew lots in doubtful cases by means of inscribed
arrows, interpreted the rustle of trees, the plashing of fountains
and murmur of streams, the direction and form of lightnings, not only
fancied that they could see things in bowls of water, and in the
shifting forms assumed by the flame which consumed sacrifices and the
smoke which rose therefrom, and that they could raise and question
the spirits of the dead, but drew presages and omens, for good or
evil, from the flight of birds, the appearance of the liver, lungs,
heart, and bowels of the animals offered in sacrifice and opened for
inspection, from the natural defects or monstrosities of babies or
the young of animals--in short, from any and everything that they
could possibly subject to observation." There were three classes
of wise men, astrologers, sorcerers, and soothsayers; all were in
constant demand, and all used rules and principles settled for them
by the so-called science which was their study.

We cannot of course affirm that Balaam was one of these Chaldeans, or
that his art was precisely of the kind described. He is declared by
the narrative to have received communications from God. There can,
however, be no doubt that his wide reputation rested on the mystical
rites by which he sought his oracles, for these, and not his natural
sagacity, would impress the common mind. When the elders of Moab and
Midian went to seek him they carried the "rewards of divination"
in their hands. It was believed that he might obtain from Jehovah
the God of the Israelites some knowledge concerning them on which a
powerful curse might be based. If then, in right of his office, he
pronounced the malediction, the power of Israel would be taken away.
The journey to Pethor was by the oasis of Tadmor and the fords at
Carchemish. A considerable time, perhaps a month, would be occupied
in going and returning. But there was no other man on whose insight
and power dependence could be placed. Those who carried the message
were men of rank, who might have gone as ambassadors to a king. It
was confidently expected that the soothsayer would at once undertake
the important commission.

Arriving at Pethor they find Balaam and convey the message, which
ends with the flattering words, "I know that he whom thou blessest
is blessed, and he whom thou cursest is cursed." But they have to
treat with no vulgar thaumaturgist, no mere weaver of spells and
incantations. This is a man of intellectual power, a diplomatist,
whose words and proceedings have a tone of high purpose and
authority. He hears attentively, but gives no immediate answer. From
the first he takes a position fitted to make the ambassadors feel
that if he intervenes it will be from higher motives than desire to
earn the rewards with which they presume to tempt him. He is indeed
a prince of his tribe, and will be moved by nothing less than the
oracle of that unseen Being whom the chiefs of Moab and Midian cannot
approach. Let the messengers wait, that in the shadow and silence
of night Balaam may inquire of Jehovah. His answer shall be in
accordance with the solemn, secret word that comes to him from above.

Three of the New Testament writers, the Apostles Peter, John, and
Jude, refer to Balaam in terms of reprobation. He is "Balaam the
son of Beor who loved the hire of wrongdoing"; he "taught Balak to
cast a stumbling-block before the children of Israel, to eat things
sacrificed to idols, and to commit fornication"; he is the type of
those who run riotously in the way of error for hire. Gathering
up the impressions of his whole life, these passages declare him
avaricious and cunningly malignant, a prophet who perverting his
gifts brought on himself a special judgment. At the outset, however,
Balaam does not appear in this light. The pictorial narrative shows a
man of imposing personality, who claims the "vision and the faculty
Divine." He seems resolute to keep by the truth rather than gratify
any dreams of ambition or win great pecuniary rewards. It is worth
while to study a character so mingled, in circumstances that may be
called typical of the old world.

Did Balaam enjoy communications with God? Had he real prophetic
insight? Or must we hold with some that he only professed to consult
Jehovah, and found the answer to his inquiries in the conclusions of
his own mind?

It would appear at first sight that Balaam, as a heathen, was separated
by a great gulf from the Hebrews. But at the time to which the
narrative of Numbers refers, if not at the period of its composition,
the boundary line implied by the word "gentile" did not exist. Moses
had clearly taught to the Hebrews ethical and religious truths which
neighbouring nations saw very indistinctly; and the Israelites were
beginning to know themselves a chosen race. Yet Abraham was their
father, and other peoples could claim descent from him. Edom, for
example, is in Numbers xx. acknowledged as Israel's brother.

At the stage of history, then, to which our passage belongs, the
strongly marked differences between nation and nation afterwards
insisted upon were not realised. And this is so far true in respect
of religion, that though the Kenites, a Midianite tribe, did not
follow the way of Jehovah, Moses, as we have seen, had no difficulty
in joining with them in a sacrificial feast in honour of the Lord
of Heaven. If beyond the circle of the tribes any one, impressed
by their history, attributing their rescue from Egypt and their
successful march towards Canaan to Jehovah, acknowledged His
greatness and began to approach Him with sacred rites, no doubt would
have existed among the Hebrews generally that by such a man their God
could be found and His favour won. The narrative before us, stating
that Jehovah called Balaam and communicated with him, simply declares
what the more patriotic and religious Israelites would have had no
difficulty whatever in receiving. This diviner of Pethor had heard
of Israel's deliverance at the Red Sea, had followed with keen
interest the progress of the tribes, had made himself acquainted with
the law of Jehovah given at Sinai. Why, then, should he not worship
Jehovah? And why should not Jehovah speak to him, make revelations to
him of things still in the future?

So far, however, we touch only the beliefs, or possible beliefs,
of the Israelites. The facts may be quite different. We are in the
way of considering revelations of the Divine will to have been so
uncommon and sacred that a man of very high character alone could
have enjoyed them. If indeed God spoke to Balaam, it must have been
in another way than to Abraham, Moses, Elijah. Especially since his
history shows him to have been a man bad at heart, we are inclined
to pronounce his consultation of God mere pretence; and as for his
prophecies, did he not simply hear of Israel's greatness and forecast
the future with the prescience of a clear calculator, who used his
eyes and reason to good purpose? But with this the gist of the Bible
narrative cannot be said to agree. It seems to be certainly implied
that God did speak to Balaam, open his eyes, unfold to him things
far off in the future. Although many cases might be adduced which go
to prove that an acute man of the world, weighing causes and tracing
the drift of things, may show wonderful foresight, yet the language
here used points to more than that. It seems to mean that Divine
illumination was given to one beyond the circle of the chosen people,
to one who from the first was no friend of God and at the last showed
himself a malicious enemy of Israel. And the doctrine must be that
any one who, looking beneath the surface of things, studying the
character of men and peoples, connects the past and the present and
anticipates events which are still far off, has his illumination
from God. Further it is taught that in a real sense the man who has
some conception of Providence, though he is false at heart, may
yet, in the sincerity of an hour, in the serious thought roused at
some crisis, have a word of counsel, a clear indication of duty, a
revelation of things to come which others do not receive. Still we
must interpret the words, "God said to Balaam," in a way which will
not lift him into the ranks of the heaven-directed who are in any
sense mediators, prophets of the age and the world. This man has his
knowledge so far from above, has his insight as a true gift, receives
the word of prohibition, of warning, veritably from a Divine source.
Yet he does not stand in a high position, lifted above other men.
The whole history is of value for our instruction, because as surely
as Balaam received directions from God, we also receive them through
conscience; because as he opposed God so we also may oppose Him in
self-will or the evil mind. When we are urged to do what is right the
urgency is Divine, as certainly as if a voice from heaven fell on our
ears. Only when we realise this do we feel aright the solemnity of
obligation. If we fail to ascribe our knowledge and our sense of duty
to God, it will seem a light thing to neglect the eternal laws by
which we should be ruled.

Reaching Pethor the messengers of Balak state their request. Instead
of going with them at once, as a false man might be expected to do,
Balaam declares that he must consult Jehovah; and the result of his
consultation is that he declines. In the morning he says to the princes
of Moab, "Get you into your land, for Jehovah refuseth to give me
leave to go with you." The question whether Israel was a fit subject
for blessing or for cursing has been practically settled in his mind.
When he lays the matter before Jehovah, as he knows Him through
His law and the history of Israel, it is made unmistakable that no
malediction is to be pronounced. But what, then, was the secret of
Balaam's delay, of his consultation of the oracle? If it had been an
absolute determination to serve the interests of righteousness, he
could now frame his reply to the princes in such a way that they would
understand it to be final. He would not say demurely, "Jehovah refuseth
to give me leave," for these words allow the belief that somehow the
power to curse may yet be obtained. Balaam permits himself to hope
that he will find some flaw in Israel's relation to Jehovah which will
leave room for a malediction. He delays, and professes to consult
God, diplomatically, that even by the refusal his fame as a diviner
acquainted with the Unseen Power may be established. And the answer
he returns means that his own reputation is not to be hazarded by any
divination which Jehovah will discredit.

Had not the future proceedings of Balaam cast their shadow back on
his career and words, he might have been pronounced at the outset a
man of integrity. The rewards offered him were probably large. We
may believe that whatever reputation Balaam had previously enjoyed
this embassy was the most important ever sent to him, the greatest
tribute to his fame. And we would have been inclined to say, Here is
an example of conscientiousness. Balaam might go with the princes
at least, though he can pronounce no curse on Israel; but he does
not; he is too honourable even to profess the desire to gratify his
patrons. This favourable judgment, however, is forbidden. It was
of himself, of his fame and position, he was thinking. He would not
have gone in any case unless it had precisely suited his purpose.
Understanding that Israel is not to be cursed, he manages so that his
refusal shall enhance his own reputation.

Still, the small amount of sincerity there is in Balaam, superimposed
on his self-love and diplomacy, is in contrast to the utter want of
it which men often show. They are of a party, and at the first call
they will make shift to denounce whatever their leaders bid them
denounce. There is no pretence even of waiting for a night to have
time for quiet reflection; much less any anxious thought regarding
Divine providence, righteousness, mercy, by means of which duty may
be discovered. It is possible for men to appear earnest defenders
of religion who never go even as far as Balaam went in seeking the
guidance of truth and principle. They pass judgments with a haste
that shows the shallow heart. Tempted by some envious Balak within,
even when no appeal is made, they set up as soothsayers and take on
them to prophesy evil.

The messengers of Balak returned with the report of their
disappointment; but what they had to say caused, as Balaam no doubt
intended, greater anxiety than ever to secure his services. One who
was so lofty, and at the same time so much in the secrets of the God
Israel worshipped, was indeed a most valuable ally, and his help must
be obtained at any price. Did he say that Jehovah refused to give him
leave? Balak will assure him of rewards which no God of Israel can
give, very great recompense, tangible, immediate. Other messengers
are sent, more, and more honourable than the former, and they carry
very flattering offers. If he will curse Israel, Balak the son of
Zippor will do for him whatever he desires. Nothing is to hinder him
from coming; neither the prohibition of Jehovah nor anything else.

The conduct of Balaam when he is appealed to the second time
confirms the judgment it has been found necessary to pronounce on
his character. He behaves like a man who has been expecting, and
yet, with what conscience he has, dreading, the renewed invitation.
He appears indeed to be emphatic in declaring his superiority to the
offer of reward: "If Balak would give me his house full of silver
and gold, I cannot go beyond the word of the Lord my God, to do less
or more." The air of incorruptible virtue is kept. The Moabites and
Midianites are to understand that they have to do with a man whose
whole soul is set on truth. And the protestation would deceive
us--only Balaam does not dismiss the men. Giving him all credit for
an intention still to keep right with the Almighty, or, shall we say?
allowing that he was too clever a man to imperil his reputation by
intending a curse which would not be followed by any ill effects, we
find immediately that he is unwilling to let the opportunity pass.
He asks the messengers to tarry for the night, that he may again
consult Jehovah in the matter. He has already seen the truth as to
Israel, the promise of its splendid career. Yet he will repeat the
inquiry, ask once more regarding the prospect he has distinctly seen.
It is ambition that moves him, and perhaps, along with that, avarice.
May he not be able to say something that will sound like a curse,
something on which Balak shall fasten in the belief that it gives him
power against Israel? It would, at all events, be a gratification to
travel in state across the desert, to appear amongst the princes of
Midian and Moab as the man after whom kings had to run. And there was
the possibility that without absolutely forfeiting his reputation as
a seer of things to come he might obtain at least a portion of the
reward. He will at all events do the messengers the honour of seeking
another oracle for their sakes, though he dishonours the name of God
from whom he seeks it.

It was possible for Balaam during the interval of the two embassies
to recover himself. He was one who could understand integrity,
who knew enough of the conditions of success to see that absolute
consistency is the only strength. There was a straight way which he
might have followed. But temptation pressed on him. Tired of the
narrow field within which he had as yet exercised his powers, he saw
one wider and more splendid open to him. The wealth was no small
inducement. He was in the way of divining for reward; this was the
greatest ever in his reach. And Balaam, knowing well how base and
vain his pretext was, resigned his integrity, even the pretence of
it, when he bade the messengers wait.

Yet was his fault a singular one? We cannot say that he showed
extraordinary covetousness in desiring Balak's silver and gold. For
the time, in the circumstances, scarcely anything else could be
expected of a man like him. To judge Balaam by modern Christian rules
is an anachronism. The remarkable thing is to find one of his class
at all scrupulous about the means he employs to promote himself. We
say that he was guilty of perverting conscience; and so he was. But
his conscience did not see or speak so clearly as ours. And are not
Christian men liable to have their heads turned by the countenance
of those in a higher rank than their own, and to succumb to the
enticement of great wealth? When they are asked to reconsider a
decision they know to be right, do they never tamper with conscience?
It is one of the commonest things to find persons nominally religious
indulging in the same desires and acting in the same way as Balaam.
But the earthly craving that makes any one go back to God a second
time about a matter which ought to have been settled once for all,
involves the greatest moral hazard. No human being, in any situation,
has spiritual strength to spare. There is a point where he who
hesitates casts the whole of his life into the balance. For young
persons, especially, a great warning, often needed, lies here.

The fault of Balaam, a fault of which he could not fail to be
conscious, was that of tampering with his inspiration. The insight
he possessed--and which he valued--had come through his sincere
estimate of things and men apart from any pressure brought to bear
on him to take a side either for money or for fame. His mind using
perfect freedom, travelling in a way of sincere judgment, had reached
a height from which he enjoyed wide prospects. As a man and a prophet
he had his standing through this superiority to the motives that
swayed vulgar minds. The admission of sordid influences, whether it
began with the visit of Balak's messengers or had been previously
allowed, was perhaps the first great error of his life. And it is so
in the case of every man who has found the strength of integrity and
reached the vision of the true. The Christian who has held himself
free from the entanglements of the world, refusing to touch its
questionable rewards, or to be influenced by its jealousy and envy,
has what may be called his inspiration, though it lifts him to no
prophetic height. He has a clear mind, a clear eye. His own way is
plain, and he can also see the crookedness of paths which others
follow and reckon straight enough. He can go with a firm step and say
fearlessly, "Be ye followers of me." But if the base considerations
of gain and loss, of ease or discomfort, of the applause or enmity
of other men, intrude, if even in a small way he becomes a man of
the world, at once there is declension. He may not be ambitious nor
covetous. Yet the withdrawal of his mind from its sole allegiance to
God and the righteousness of God tells at once on his moral vision.
It is clouded. The oracle becomes ambiguous. He hears two voices,
many voices; and the counsels of his mind are confused. Like others,
he now takes a crooked course, he feels that he has lost the old
firmness of speech and action.

It is a sad thing when one who has felt himself "born to the good, to
the perfect," who has gained the power that comes through reverence,
and sees greater power before him, yields to that which is not
venerable, not pure. The beginnings of the fatal surrender may be
small. Only a throb of self-consciousness and satisfaction when some
one speaks a word of flattery or with show of much deference prefers
an astute request. Only a disposition to listen when in seeming
friendship counsel of a plausible kind is offered, and milder ways
of judging are recommended to lessen friction and put an end to
discord. Even the strong are so weak, and those who see are so easily
blinded, that no one can count himself safe. And indeed it is not the
great temptations, like that which came to Balaam, we have chiefly
to dread. The very greatness of a bribe and magnificence of an
opportunity put conscience on its guard. Peril comes rather when the
appeal for charity, or the casuistry of protesting virtue, sends one
to reconsider judgment that has been solemnly pronounced by a voice
we cannot mistake; when we forget that the matter is only rightly
determined for men when it is clearly and irrevocably decided by the
law of God, whatever men may think, however they may deplore or rebel.

                    "Thou and God exist--
      So think!--for certain; think the mass--mankind--
      Disparts, disperses, leaves thyself alone!
      Ask thy lone soul what laws are plain to thee--
      Thee and no other,--stand or fall by them!
      That is the part for thee: regard all else
      For what it may be--Time's illusion."

Men in their need, in their sorrow, their self-esteem, would have
the true man revoke his judgment, yield a point at least to their
entreaties. He will do them kindness, he will show himself human,
reasonable, judicious. But on the other side are those to whom, in
showing this consideration, he will be unjust, declaring their honour
worthless, their sore struggle a useless waste of strength; and he
himself stands before the Judge. The one sure way is that which keeps
the life in the line of the statutes of God, and every judgment in
full accord with His righteousness.

FOOTNOTE:

[10] "The Higher Criticism and the Monuments," p. 274.




                                  XIX

                          _BALAAM ON THE WAY_

                          NUMBERS xxii. 20-38


The history is moving towards a great vindication of Israel and
prediction of its coming power, all the more impressive that they are
to be wrung from an unwilling witness, a man who would pronounce a
curse rather than a blessing; all the more impressive, too, because the
enemies of Israel will themselves arrange on a mountain pinnacle the
scene of the revelation, with smoking altars and princely spectators.
The great Actor in the drama is unseen; but His voice is heard. However
tractable the omens may have been under other circumstances in the
hands of the soothsayer, he now finds a Master. As the story unfolds,
Balaam is seen attempting the impossible, endeavouring to force the
hands of Providence, held as in a chain at every stage. There is
a Power that treats him as if he were a child. Finally, with most
unwilling eloquence, he is compelled to fling far and wide a challenge
to Israel's enemies, the praises of her rising star.

In harmony with this general movement is the result of Balaam's
second appeal for permission to take the journey to Moab. He receives
it, but with a reservation. Fear of the great God whom he invokes
holds him to the conviction that whatever he may do no word must
pass his lips other than Jehovah gives him to speak. In repeating his
inquiry he has assumed that the God of Israel is amenable to human
urgency; and as he will have Jehovah to be, so within limits he seems
to find Him. Yet there is more to reckon with than a dubious oracle,
discovered through signs and portents of the sky or whisperings of
the breeze at night. Jehovah has brought His people from Egypt, fed
them in the desert, given them victory. Balaam finds that this God
can send angels upon His errands, that there is no escape from His
presence nor evasion of His will.

It was in a kind of madness the diviner set out from Pethor by the
way of the Euphrates' ford. Excited by the hope of gaining the
rewards and enjoying the fame awaiting him in Moab, he was at the
same time conscious of being in opposition to the God of Israel, and
committed to an adventure that might end disastrously. He went in a
mood of wilfulness, hoping and yet half doubting that his way would
become clear, irritable therefore, ready to resent every hindrance.
A diviner of repute, credited with powers of blessing and cursing,
he perhaps felt himself safe on ordinary occasions, especially among
his own people, even when he went against those who consulted him.
But could he count on the forbearance of the king of Moab into whose
country he was venturing? Jehovah might be opening his way only to
destruction. Such fears could hardly be avoided.

And men who have gone back to conscience endeavouring to extort
from it a sanction or permission previously denied, who, with some
half assurance that the way is open, set out on a desired course,
are practically in the same mad mood, have equal reason to dread
the issue. Is this understood? It may be safely asserted that half
the wrong things men do--taking an average of human action, half at
least--are done not in despite of conscience, but with its dubious
consent, when the first clear decision has been set aside. No doubt
the urgency is often very great, as it was in Balaam's case, and
frequently of a less questionable kind. Not the desire of envious
persons to have others cursed or evil intreated, but possibly the
desire of some to have the shadow of adverse judgment taken away,
may be the plea, and be supported by the promise of large reward.
The first word of conscience is distinct--Have nothing whatever to
do with the matter: the shadow has fallen on the wrongdoer; he has
not repented; let him suffer still. But his agents come with gold
and silver, with plausible words, with seeming Christian arguments.
Then the appeal to conscience is renewed, and he who should be firm
in judgment finds a false permission. Or the case may be of one in
business, tempted to some practice, common enough, but dishonest,
vile. His first feeling has been that of disgust. He could not for
a moment contemplate a thing so base. But under the pressure of
what appears to be necessity, plausible arguments and pretexts gain
ground. The fact that reputable men find no difficulty about the
matter, the notion that a custom is excusable because it is followed
by most if not by all, along with other considerations of a personal
kind, are allowed to have some weight, and then to overbalance
the sense of duty. And the result is that the moral atmosphere is
confused. The man sets out on a way which appears to be opened for
him; but he goes under the shadow of a haunting fear.

Like Balaam, one who thus extorts from conscience, that is from God,
permission to go where he himself desires, knowing it to be a wrong
way, is quite aware, may indeed be eager to acknowledge to himself,
that he is still held by a Divine command extending over a part of his
conduct. He will not speak a word that shall be against truth. He will
resume friendship with the rich transgressor; but he will not in words
excuse or palliate his crime. He will adulterate certain commodities in
which he deals, but he will never assert that they are genuine. This
is the tribute to religion and to conscience that sustains decaying
self-respect. By this the man who passes for a Christian endeavours to
keep himself separate from those who have no conscience. The most is
made of the difference. As compared with those who unblushingly defend
the wrong, this man may think himself a saint. He would on no account
speak a falsehood. Does he not fear God? Is he a dog that he should do
this thing? Nevertheless, the way leads into a bottomless quagmire. For
a time the waning light of religion may shine. It may even burst before
it dies into a bright flame of indignation against sin--the crimes
others commit--or of loud protestation against what are called false
charges. But the man dies a Balaam, with a perverted conscience, and
must face the dreadful result.

Well has it been said that no virtue is safe without enthusiasm. A
man cannot be true to the highest law unless he has the motive within
him of pure devotion to God as his personal Redeemer, unless he
recognises that his joy in God and his salvation are bound up with
fidelity to the moral ideal which is presented to him. Faith, hope,
love must inspire and keep the soul in fervour of desire to reach the
heights to which it is called by the Divine voice. But the most of
men come far short of this enthusiasm. It is rather with reluctance,
after a kind of struggle with themselves, that they look duty in the
face. And even when they do they find no pleasure in resolving to
press on where the absolutely right is seen. Their pleasure lies in
doing less than that. They seek accordingly some way of observing the
letter of duty while they avoid its spirit. But the sense of having
come short in a matter that involves their highest wellbeing, their
standing before God, their very right to hope and to live, remains
with them. Marriage, for example, is often entered upon after a
struggle with conscience in which a clear mandate has been set aside.
The desire to please self is allowed to overcome the conviction
that the new bond will keep life on the low worldly ground, or drag
it back from spirituality. The merely expedient is chosen rather
than the ideal of moral independence and power. And of this come
fretfulness, dissatisfaction with self, with others, with Providence.
All the sophistries that can be used fail to set the mind at rest.
Events continually occur which throw flashes of light on the past and
reveal the lost hope, the forfeited vision.

God does not make the wrong way smooth for one who has extorted
permission to follow it. A man desiring to enter on a course which
he sees to be dishonourable or at least dubious may be absolutely
prevented at first. His appeal is to Providence. If circumstances
allowed his plan he would reckon the Divine will favourable to it.
But they do not. Every door he tries in the direction he wishes to
take is barred against him. Afterwards one yields to pressure, or is
thrown wide because he knocks at it persistently. Then he advances,
taking for granted that he has obtained permission from God. But he
does not go far till he is undeceived. So, Balaam sets out on his
adventure, riding on his ass and attended by his two servants. Yet
he does not get clear of the vineyards of Pethor without hindrance.
Obstacles to his journey which do not appear in the narrative may
have at first stood in his way, certain political complications, we
may suppose. Now they are removed. But he is met by others. The angel
of the Lord opposes him, one who stands with a drawn sword in hand in
a hollow way between the vineyards, a path closely fenced on the one
side and the other. Balaam fails to see the adversary; he is absorbed
in his own thoughts. But the ass sees, and will not go forward, and
as Balaam becomes aware of resistance his anger is kindled.

The narrative here is confessedly difficult. One of the most reverent
commentators on the passage declares that he feels too deeply the
essential veracity of the story to be troubled with minute questions
about its details. "I would not," he says, "force them upon any one's
belief merely by uttering the coarse sentence, that they are in
the Bible and therefore must be received. One is afraid of leading
people to fancy that they do believe what they do not believe, and
so of propagating hypocrisy under the name of faith." To some the
narrative may present no serious difficulty. They accept it literally
at every point. Others again are not so easily satisfied that the
occasion called for miracles like those which appear on the face
of the history. It seems to them of no great moment whether Balaam
went or did not go to Moab, whether he cursed Israel or blessed it.
Neither the curse nor the blessing of a man of Balaam's sort could
make the least difference to Israel. These readers accordingly would
find a parabolical or pictorial explanation of the incidents. Literal
belief, in any case, need not be made a test of reverence; the spirit
is surely more than the letter. The point of greatest importance
is to believe that God dealt with this man, opposed his perverse
will by gracious influences and unexpected protests. To Balaam, no
doubt, the angel's appearance and the ass's rebuke were real, as
real and impressive as any experiences he ever had. He was humbled;
he acknowledged his sin and offered to return. When he reached the
land of Moab, the recollection of what befell him by the way had a
salutary influence on all he said and did.

In many unforeseen, singular, and often homely ways, men are checked
in the endeavour to carry out the schemes which ambition and avarice
prompt. The angel of the Lord who opposes one bent on a bad enterprise
often appears in familiar guise. To some men their wives stand in
the way, some are challenged by their children. What in voluntary
blindness they have declined to see--the madness of the wrong course,
the intrinsic baseness of the thing undertaken--those who look with
pure eyes perceive clearly and are brave enough to condemn. At other
times obstacles are placed in the way by the simple ordinary duties
which claim attention, occupy thought and time, and tend to bring back
the mind to humility and saneness. Yet covetousness can make men very
blind. Under the influence of it they suppose themselves to be acting
cleverly, while all the time those whom they think they are outwitting
see them posting on the way to bankruptcy and shame.

Even a good man may lose his spiritual discrimination occasionally
when he fancies himself called to curse not Israel but Moab, and
sets out in heat upon the errand. He fails to see that the case
of Balaam is so far parallel to his own that he ought to expect
an angel to oppose him. The critical Balaam who feels it his high
duty to pronounce maledictions on some theological opponent, not
for silver and gold, but for the cause of God, is resisted by many
an angel bearing the sharp sword of the Word, set to declare the
great tolerance of Christ, and to vindicate the liberty that is in
Him. That men fail to see these angels, or else ride past them,
is abundantly evident, for the altars smoke on many a height, and
scrolls of futile condemnation are flung upon the breeze.

Balaam smites the ass even when she falls down under him in her
abject terror. He endeavours to force her on till at last he is put
to shame by her rebuke. We are pointed to the irrational way in which
those act whose moral judgment is blinded. Their course being wrong,
they do not turn against themselves, but rise in passion against
every person or thing that hinders. The husband who is resolved to
take a wrong path thrusts away his faithful wife; the son bent on
what will be his ruin pushes off his weeping mother when she pleads
before him. Often an apparently inexplicable fit of temper in public
or in private means that a man is in the wrong and is aware of a
mistake, from the consequences of which he would fain escape. One's
heart bleeds for none more than for those victims of selfish anger
who suffer under the abuse of the Balaams of society. They have seen
the angel in the way. They have sought by a gesture or a warning word
to arrest the friend who would go on to evil. Then the cruel strokes
fall on them, curses, foul abuse, taunts often directed against their
religion. They are charged with setting themselves up as holier and
better than other people. They are denounced as meddlers and fools.
They protest without effect often, and suffer apparently to no
purpose. Yet shall we suppose their endeavours altogether lost? Good
is surely stronger than evil. Every right act and word is germinal.
After long years it bears fruit.

In Balaam's case there was a happier issue than is often seen. The
protest against his cruelty opened his eyes to the truth that a
messenger of God stood in his way. The rebuke came home to him. So
might a hard, self-willed man who rode rough-shod over the feelings
and rights of others be brought suddenly to a sense of his cruelty by
the look on the face of a dog. Bad as men and women may be, violent
and abusive as they may become in times of anger and impatience,
there are ways of softening their hearts. They go on for years
attempting to justify themselves in a rough and selfish course. But
who shall say that even the seeming worst are beyond recovery? When
there appears to be no redeeming feature left in the character, the
crisis may be at hand, the transgressor may be so taught by the
piteous look of a dumb animal that his infatuation will come to an
end. Recoiling from himself he will acknowledge his perversity and
turn to better thoughts.

How far did Balaam's repentance go? There can be little doubt the
motive of it was the sudden discovery that the God of Israel was
mightier and more observant than he had imagined; in short, that
Jehovah was his master. Balaam yields, changes his mind, not because
he is in the least degree more disposed to do what is right, but
because he finds the antagonism of God falling suddenly upon his
life. To the angel he says: "I have sinned: for I knew not that thou
stoodest in the way against me: now therefore, if it displease thee,
I will get me back again." This is an acknowledgment of authority,
but not of an obligation into which any sense of God's goodness
enters. It is the sullen acquiescence of a foiled adventurer, who at
the very outset is made to understand the terms and narrow limits
of his power. He has his knowledge, his vision. When he set out he
intended to use them, if possible, under such conditions as would
secure his own liberty. He is now made to understand that he is not
free. The angel with the drawn sword will be in Moab before him,
ready to cut him down if he should do or say anything opposed to the
mind of the God of Israel. He is cowed, not converted.

And so it often is with men who find their schemes counteracted, and
are made to feel their weakness in presence of the forces of human
government, or of the natural world. Their confession of sin is really
a sullen acknowledgment of impotence. Sift their feelings and you
discover no sense of guilt. They miscalculated, and they regret having
done so, because it is to their shame. They will go back to make
other plans, to lay the foundations deeper with greater subtlety, and
by-and-by, if they can, to carry out their ideas and gratify their
covetousness and ambition in other ways. Sometimes indeed it may become
clear to a man that his efforts to advance himself, such as he is,
cannot prosper because Omnipotence is against him. Then acknowledgment
of defeat is confession of despair. Of this we see an example in the
first Napoleon after his final capture when he was on the voyage to
St. Helena. He had forced his way over obstacles enough, leaving
blood and ruin behind him. But at length the stronger power came down
to meet him, and he knew that the game was lost. Beneath the seeming
acquiescence there lurked rebellion. He often spoke as a believer in
God; but the God he knew was one he could have wished to foil. In the
island to which he was confined he schemed desperately to regain his
freedom that he might renew the vain conflict with Providence for his
own glory and the glory of France. "I have sinned: I will get me back
again." Yes. But will it be to lay other and more cunning plots for
self-aggrandisement, and recover the lost ground by some daring stroke?
Then it will be also to meet other angels, and at the last the minister
who bears the sword of doom.

Balaam will return, confessing himself defeated for the time. But
he learns that he may not. He has come so far with designs of his
own; he must now go on to Moab to serve the purposes of God. The
permission he wrested, so to speak, from Providence, was not wrested
after all. There are deeper schemes than Balaam can form, the great
far-reaching plans of the God of Israel, and by these, however
unwillingly, the soothsayer of Pethor is now bound. This journey has
been of his own perverse choosing; now he must finish it, feeling
himself at every point a servant, an instrument; and if danger and
even death await him, still he must proceed. Easy it is to begin in
the craftiness of human purpose and the foolishness of earthly hope;
but the end is not under the control of him who begins. There is One
who orders all things so that the gifts of men and their perversity
and their wrath shall all praise Him, shall all be woven into the web
of His evolving purpose, universal, holy, sure.

It is a startling thought that in a sense whatever we begin in pride
or self-will, playing, as it were, the first act of the drama on some
stage we ourselves select, the movement cannot be arrested when we
choose. In one way or another, act after act must proceed to the very
end which God foreordains. Many human purposes appear to be sharply
and completely broken off. In the midst of his days man hears the call
he cannot disobey. His tools, his hopes, his declared intentions must
be laid aside. But the end is not yet. The curtain has fallen here.
It will be raised again. And in many unfoldings of Divine purpose we
witness scene after scene, in scene after scene have to play our part.
One who has begun ill may sincerely repent, and then the development
takes a direction which will be to the glory of Divine grace. That act
of repentance over, another comes, in which the humble thought of the
penitent reveals itself. He is seen a new man, timorous where he was
bold, bold where he was timorous. Beyond there are other scenes, in
which he shall be found endeavouring to repair the evil he has done,
to gather the poisoned arrows he has strewed about the world. And the
consummation shall be reached when the task at which he has vainly
laboured is completed for him by Christ, and his recovery and the
restitution he toiled for shall be complete.

But if there is no penitence, still the drama must go on to its finish.
The man resenting, yet unable to resist, shall do what God requires,
what God permits. He shall attempt to curse, yet be constrained to
bless. He shall in bitterness of anger frame new devices and carry
them out. Then, when the cup of his iniquity is full, and all is done
Providence allows, retribution shall overtake him. In the thick of
battle the sword of the angel shall smite him to the ground. For each
man, under God's rule, in the midst of the forces He upholds, there
is a destiny, some stages of which we can trace. Entering on life we
of necessity become subject to great laws which our revolt cannot in
the least affect. And these are moral laws. The seeming success of the
immoral who are intellectually or brutally strong is within the narrow
limits of time and space. In the breadths of eternity and infinity
there is no strength for any but the good.

There is a purpose of God which Balaam is unwilling to subserve; and
of that the man becomes gradually aware. When he is met by Balak and
his train and upbraided with his reluctance to come where honours
and rewards are to be had, the soothsayer realises his peril and
begins at once to prepare the Moabite king for disappointment. "Lo,
I am come unto thee," he says: "have I now any power at all to speak
anything? The word that God putteth in my mouth, that shall I speak."
What we see now is a contest between the influence of Balak, with
his power to reward and also to punish, and the consciousness of a
constraint which had entered deeply into Balaam's mind. The sense of
Jehovah's authority over him on this occasion was indeed supported
by another strong motive which the diviner never allowed to fall
into the background. He had his reputation to maintain. At whatever
hazard, he must show himself to Moabites, Midianites, Aramæans, a man
who knew the knowledge of the Most High. The ignorance of Balak is
seen in his absurd hope that for the sake of some bribe of his the
prophet of Pethor will be induced to fling away his fame.

There are things which even money cannot buy. There is a limit
beyond which even a false and avaricious man cannot venture for the
sake of honours and rewards. It is a vulgar judgment that every man
has his price. One who is not particularly conscientious on most
occasions will sometimes touch the bounds of concession and take
his stand for what is left, all the self he has in any true sense.
Neither will money buy nor threats compel his further acquiescence
in what he deems wrong. Again, as in Balaam's case, the limit of the
power of gold or of threats may be fixed by pride. There are gifts,
qualities, distinctions possessed by some, in virtue of which they
seem to themselves to occupy a place which all might covet. The
veteran has his decoration, once attached to his uniform by some
honoured commander under whom he served. No money could buy that. He
would die rather than part with it. Another is proud of his name. To
dishonour that would be treachery to his ancestors. Balaam has his
unique power of vision, and for a while at least he preserves it. A
man like Balak, measuring others by himself, regards a diviner as one
of a lower order who may be moved by menaces and promises. He finds
that Balaam has pride enough to lift him above them. Thus vanity
counteracts vanity; the comparatively base keeps the base in check.




                                   XX

                          _BALAAM'S PARABLES_

                        NUMBERS xxii. 39-xxiv. 9


The scene is now on some mountain of Moab from which the encampment
of the Hebrew tribes in the plain of the Jordan is fully visible.
At Kiriath-huzoth, possibly the modern Shihan, about ten miles east
of the Dead Sea, and to the south of the Arnon valley, preparation
for the attempt against Israel's destiny has been made by a great
sacrifice of oxen and sheep intended to secure the good-will of
Chemosh, the Baal or Lord of Moab. On the range overhanging the
Dead Sea, somewhat to the north of the Arnon, perhaps, are the
Bamoth-Baal, or high places of Baal, and the "bare height" where
Balaam is to seek his auguries and will be met by God.

The evening of Balaam's arrival has been spent in the sacrificial
festival, and in the morning Balak and his princes escort the diviner
to the Bamoth-Baal that he may begin his experiment. After his usual
manner, Balaam pompously requires that great arrangements be made
for the trial of auguries by means of which his oracle is to be
found. Balak has offered sacrifices to Chemosh; now Jehovah must be
propitiated, and seven altars have to be built, and on each of them a
bullock and a ram offered by fire. The altars erected, the carcases
of the animals prepared, Balaam does not remain beside them to take
actual part in the sacrifice. It is, in fact, to be Balak's, not his;
and if the God of Israel should refuse His sanction to the curse,
that will be because the offering of the king of Moab has not secured
His favour. Accordingly, while the seven wreaths of smoke ascend from
the altars, and the invocations of the Divine power which usually
accompany sacrifice are chanted by the king and his princes, the
soothsayer withdraws to a peak at some distance that he may read the
omens. "Peradventure," he says, "Jehovah will come to meet me."

It was now a critical hour for the ambitious prophet. He had indeed
already found distinction, for who in Moab or Midian could have
commanded with so royal an air and received attention so obsequious?
But the reward remained to be won. Yet may we not assume that when
Balaam reached Moab and saw the pitiable state of what had been
once a strong kingdom, the cities half ruined, filled with poor and
dejected inhabitants, he conceived a kind of contempt for Balak and
perceived that his offers must be set aside as worthless? God met
Balaam, we are told. And this may have been the sense in which God
met him and put a word into his mouth. What was Moab compared with
Israel? A glance at Kiriath-huzoth, a little experience of Balak's
empty boastfulness and the entreaties and anxiety which betrayed his
weakness, would show Balaam the vanity of proposing to reinvigorate
Moab at the expense of Israel. His way led clearly enough where the
finger of the God of Israel pointed, and his mind almost anticipated
what the Voice he heard as Jehovah's declared. He saw the smoke
streaming south-eastward, and casting a black shadow between him and
Moab; but the sun shone on the tents of Israel, right away to the
utmost part of the camp (xxii. 41). The mind of Balaam was made up.
It would be better for him in a worldly sense to win some credit with
Israel than to have the greatest honour Moab could offer. Chemosh
was in decline, Jehovah in the ascendant. Perhaps the Hebrews might
need a diviner when their great Moses was dead, and he, Balaam,
might succeed to that exalted office. We never can tell what dreams
will enter the mind of the ambitious man, or rather, we do not know
on what slender foundations he builds the most extravagant hopes.
There was nothing more unlikely, the thing indeed was absolutely
impossible, yet Balaam may have imagined that his oracle would come
to the ears of the Israelites, and that they would send for him to
give favourable auguries before they crossed the Jordan.

Rapidly the diviner had to form his decision. That done, the words
of the oracle could be trusted to the inspiration of the moment,
inspiration from Jehovah, whose superiority to all the gods of Syria
Balaam now heartily acknowledged. He accordingly left his place of
vision and returned to the Bamoth where the altars still smoked. Then
he took up his parable and spoke.

      "From Aram Balak brought me,
       Moab's king from the mountains of the east;
       'Come, curse for me Jacob,
       And come, menace Israel.'
       How can I curse whom God hath not cursed?
       And how can I menace whom God hath not menaced?
       For from the head of the rocks I see him,
       And from the hills I behold him.

       Lo, a people apart he dwells,
       And among the nations he is not counted.
       Who can reckon the dust of Jacob,
       And in number the fourth of Israel?
       Let my soul die the death of the righteous;
       And be my last end like his!"

In this parable, or _mashal_, along with some elements of egotism and
self-defence, there are others that have the ring of inspiration.
The opening is a vaunt, and the expression, "How can I curse whom
God hath not cursed?" is a form of self-vindication which savours
of vanity. We see more of the cowed and half-resentful man than of
the prophet. Yet the vision of a people dwelling apart, not to be
reckoned among the others, is a real revelation, boldly flung out.
Something of the difference already established between Israel and
the _goim_, or peoples of the Syrian district, had been caught by the
seer in his survey of past events, and now came to clear expression.
For a moment, at least, his soul rose almost into spiritual desire in
the cry that his last end should be of the kind an Israelite might
have; one who with calm confidence laid himself down in the arms of
the great God, the Lord of providence, of death as well as life.

A man has learned one lesson of great value for the conduct of life
when he sees that he cannot curse whom God has not cursed, that he
would be foolish to menace whom God has not menaced. Reaching this
point of sight, Balaam stands superior for the time to the vulgar
ideas of men like the king of Moab, who have no conception of a
strong and dominant will to which human desires are all subjected.
However reluctantly this confession is made, it prevents many futile
endeavours and much empty vapouring. There are some indeed whose
belief that fate must be on their side is simply immovable. Those
whom they choose to reckon enemies are established in the protection
of heaven; but they think it possible to wrest their revenge even
from the Divine hand. Not till the blow they strike recoils with
crushing force on themselves do they know the fatuity of their hope.
In his "Instans Tyrannus" Mr. Browning pictures one whose persecution
of an obscure foe ends in defeat.

      "I soberly laid my last plan
       To extinguish the man.
       Round his creep-hole, with never a break,
       Ran my fires for his sake;
       Overhead, did my thunder combine
       With my underground mine:
       Till I looked from my labour, content
       To enjoy the event.

       When sudden ... how think ye, the end?
       Did I say, 'Without friend'?
       Say rather from marge to blue marge
       The whole sky grew his targe,
       With the sun's self for visible boss,
       While an Arm ran across,
       Which the earth heaved beneath, like a breast
       Where the wretch was safe prest!
       Do you see? Just my vengeance complete,
       The man sprang to his feet,
       Stood erect, caught at God's skirts and prayed!
       --So, I was afraid!"

In smaller matters, the attempts at impudent detraction which are
common, when the base, girding at the good, think it possible to
bring them to contempt, or at least stir them to unseemly anger, or
prick them to humiliating self-defence, the law is often well enough
understood, yet neither the assailants nor those attacked may be
wise enough to recognise it. A man who stands upon his faithfulness
to God does not need to be vexed by the menaces of the base; he
should despise them. Yet he often allows himself to be harassed,
and so yields all the victory hoped for by his detractor. Calm
indifference, if one has a right to use it, is the true shield
against the arrows of envy and malice.

Balaam's vision of Israel as a separated people, a people dwelling
alone, had singular penetration. The others he knew--Amorites,
Moabites, Ammonites, Midianites, Hittites, Aramæans--went together,
scarcely distinguishable in many respects, with their national Baals
all of the same kind. Was Ammon or Chemosh, Melcarth or Sutekh,
the name of the Baal? The rites might differ somewhat, there might
be more or less ferocity ascribed to the deities; but on the whole
their likeness was too close for any real distinction. And the
peoples, differing in race, in culture, in habit, no doubt, were yet
alike in this, that their morality and their mental outlook passed
no boundary, were for the most part of the beaten, crooked road.
Strifes and petty ambitions here and there, temporary combinations
for ignoble ends, the rise of one above another for a time under
some chief who held his ground by force of arms, then fell and
disappeared--such were the common events of their histories. But
Israel came into Balaam's sight as a people of an entirely different
kind, generically distinct. Their God was no Baal ferocious by
report, really impotent, a mere reflection of human passion and
lust. Jehovah's law was a creation, like nothing in human history
ascribed to a God. His worship meant solemn obligation, imposed,
acknowledged, not simply to honour Him, but to be pure and true and
honest in honouring Him. Israel had no part in the orgies that were
held in professed worship of the Baals, really to the disgrace of
their devotees. The lines of the national development had been laid
down, and Balaam saw to some extent how widely they diverged from
those along which other peoples sought power and glory. Amorites and
Hittites and Canaanites might keep their place, but Israel had the
secret of a progress of which they never dreamed. Wherever the tribes
settled, when they advanced to fulfil their destiny, they would prove
a new force in the world.

For the time Israel might be called the one spiritual people. It
was this Balaam partly saw, and made the basis of his striking
predictions. The modern nations are not to be distinguished by the
same testing idea. The thoughts and hopes of Christianity have
entered more or less into all that are civilised, and have touched
others that can scarcely be called so. Yet if there is any oracle
for the peoples of our century it is one that turns on the very
point which Balaam seems to have had in view. But it is, that not
one of them, as a nation, is distinctly moved and separated from
others by spirituality of aim. Of not one can it be said that it
is confessedly, eagerly, on the way to a Canaan where the Living
and True God shall be worshipped, that its popular movements, its
legislation, its main endeavours look to such a heavenly result. If
we saw a people dwelling apart, with a high spiritual aim, resolutely
excluding those ideas of materialism which dominate the rest, of them
it would not be presumptuous to prophesy in the high terms to which
the oracles of Balaam gradually rose.

Regarding the wish with which the diviner closed his first
_mashal_, hard things have been said, as for example, that "even
in his sublimest visions his egotism breaks out; in the sight of
God's Israel he cries, 'Let me die the death of the righteous.'"
Here, however, there may be personal sorrow and regret, a pathetic
confession of human fear by one who has been brought to serious
thought, rather than any mere egoistic craving. Why should he speak
of death? That is not the theme of the egotist. We hear a sudden
ejaculation that seems to open a glimpse of his heart. For this
man, like every son of Adam, has his burden, his secret trouble,
from which all the hopes and plans of his ambition cannot relieve
his mind. Now for the first time he speaks in a genuinely religious
strain. "There are the righteous whom the Great Jehovah regards with
favour, and gathers to Himself. When their end comes they rest. Alas!
I, Balaam, am not one of them; and the shadows of my end are not far
away! Would that by some mighty effort I could throw aside my life
as it has been and is, revoke my destiny, and enter the ranks of
Jehovah's people--were it only to die among them."

Wistfully, men whose life has been on the low ground of mere earthly
toil and pleasure may, in like manner, when the end draws near,
envy the confidence and hope of the good. For the old age of the
sensualist, and even of the successful man of the world, is under a
dull wintry sky, with no prospect of another morning, or even of a
quiet night of dreamless sleep.

      "The weariest and most loathed worldly life,
       That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment
       Can lay on nature, is a paradise
       To what we fear of death."

Courage and peace at the last belong to those alone who have kept in
the way of righteousness. To them and no others light shall arise in
the darkness. The faithfulness of God is their refuge even when the
last shadows fall. He whom they trust goes before them in the pillar
of fire when night is on the world, as well as in the pillar of cloud
by day. To the man of this earth even the falling asleep of the good
is enviable, though they may not anticipate a blessed immortality.
Their very grave is a bed of peaceful rest, for living or dying they
belong to the great God.

       *       *       *       *       *

It was with growing dissatisfaction, rising to anxiety, Balak heard
the first oracle that fell from the diviner's lips. Despite the
warning he had received that only the words which Jehovah gave should
be spoken, he hoped for some kind of a curse. His altars had been
built, his oxen and rams sacrificed, and surely, he thought, all
would not be in vain! Balaam had not travelled from Pethor to mock
him. But the prophecy carried not a single word of heartening to the
enemies of Israel. The camp lay in the full sunshine of fortune,
unobscured by the least cloud. It was the first blow to Balak's
malignant jealousy, and might well have put him to confusion. But men
of his sort are rich in conjectures and expedients. He had set his
mind on this as the means of finding advantage in a struggle that
was sure to come; and he clung to his hope. Although the curse would
not light on the whole camp of Israel, yet it might fall on a part,
the remote outlying portion of the tribes. In superstition men are
for ever catching at straws. If the anger of some heavenly power,
what power mattered little to Balak, could be once enlisted against
the tribes, even partially, the influence of it might spread. And
it would at least be something if pestilence or lightning smote the
utmost part of that threatening encampment.

One must be sorry for men whose impotent anger has to fall on
expedients so miserably inadequate. Moab defeated by the Amorites
sees them in turn vanquished and scattered by this host which has
suddenly appeared, and to all ordinary reckoning has no place nor
right in the region. Sad as was the defeat which deprived Balak
of half his land and left his people in poverty, this incursion
and its success foreboded greater trouble. The king was bound to
do something, and, feeling himself unable to fight, this was his
scheme. The utter uselessness of it from every point of view gives
the story a singular pathos. But the world under Divine providence
cannot be left in a region where superstition reigns and progress is
impossible--simply that a people like the Moabites may settle again
on their lees, and that others may continue to enjoy what seem to
them to be their rights. There must be a stirring of human existence,
a new force and new ideas introduced among the peoples, even at the
expense of war and bloodshed. And our sympathy with Balak fails when
we recollect that Israel had refrained from attacking Moab in its day
of weakness, had even refrained from asking leave to pass through
its impoverished territory. The feelings of the vanquished had been
respected. Perhaps Balak, with the perversity of a weak man and an
incompetent prince, resented this as much as anything.

Balaam was now brought into the field of Zophim, or the Watchers, to
the "top of Pisgah," whence he could see only a part of the camp of
Israel. The Hebrew here as well as in xxii. 41 is ambiguous. It has
even been interpreted as meaning that on the first occasion part of the
encampment only was in view, and on the second occasion the whole of it
(so Keil _in loco_). But the tenor of the narrative corresponds better
with the translation given in the English Version. The precise spot
here called the top of Pisgah has not been identified. In the opinion
of some the name Pisgah survives in the modern Siaghah; but even if
it does we are not helped in the least. Others take Pisgah as meaning
simply "hill," and read "the field of Zophim on the top of the hill."
The latter translation would obviate the difficulty that in Deut.
xxxiv. 1 it is said that Moses, when the time of his death approached,
"went up from the plains of Moab unto Mount Nebo, to the top of Pisgah
that is over against Jericho." Pisgah may have been the name of the
range; yet again in Numb. xxvii. 12, and Deut. xxxii. 49, Abarim is
given as the name of the range of which Nebo is a peak. We are led to
the conclusion that Pisgah was the name in general use for a hill-top
of some peculiar form. The root meaning of the word is difficult to
make out. It may at all events be taken as certain that this top of
Pisgah is not the same as that to which Moses ascended to die. Balak
and his princes had not as yet ventured so far beyond the Arnon.

At Balaam's request the same arrangements were made as at Bamoth-Baal.
Seven altars were built, and seven bullocks and seven rams were
offered; and again the diviner withdrew to some distance to seek omens.
This time his meeting with Jehovah gave him a more emphatic message. It
would seem that with the passing of the day's incidents the vatic fire
in his mind burned more brightly. Instead of endeavouring to conciliate
Balak he appears to take delight in the oracle that dashes the hopes
of Moab to the ground. He has looked from the new point of vision and
seen the great future that awaits Israel. It is vain to expect that the
decree of the Almighty One can be revoked. Balak must hear all that the
spirit of Elohim has given to the seer.

      "Up, Balak, and hear;
       Hearken to me, son of Zippor:
       No man is God, that He should lie;
       And no son of man, that He should repent,
       Hath He said, and shall He not do it?
       And spoken, and shall He not make good?
       Behold to bless I have received;
       And He hath blessed and I cannot undo.
       He hath not beheld iniquity in Jacob,
       Nor seen perverseness in Israel.
       Jehovah his God is with him;
       And the shout of a King is with him.
       God brings them forth from Egypt:
       Like the horns of the wild ox are his.
       Surely no snake-craft is in Jacob,
       And no enchantment with Israel.
       At the time it shall be said of Jacob and Israel,
       What hath God wrought!
       Behold the people as a lioness arises,
       And as a lion lifts himself up;
       He shall not lie down till he eat the prey,
       And drink the blood of the slain."

The confirmation of the first oracle by what Balaam has realised on
his second approach to Jehovah compels the question which rebukes the
king's vain desire. "Hath He said, and shall He not do it?" Balak did
not know Jehovah as Balaam knew Him. This God never went back from His
decision, nor recalled His promises. And He is able to do whatever He
wills. Not only does He refuse to curse Israel, but He has given a
blessing which Balaam even, powerful as he is, cannot possibly hinder.
It has become manifest that the judgment of God on His people's conduct
is in no respect adverse. Reviewing their past, the diviner may have
found such failure from the covenant as would give cause for a decision
against them, partial at least, if not general. But there is no excuse
for supposing that Jehovah has turned against the tribes. Their recent
successes and present position are proofs of His favour unrevoked, and,
it would seem, irrevocable. There is a King with this people, and when
they advance it is with a shout in His honour. The King is Jehovah
their God; mightier far than Balak or any ruler of the nations. When
the loud Hallelujah rose from the multitude at some sacred feast, it
was indeed the shout of a monarch.

Singular is it to find a diviner like Balaam noting as one of the
great distinctions of Israel that the nation used neither augury nor
divination. The hollowness of his own arts in presence of the God
of Israel who could not be moved by them, who gave His people hope
without them, would seem to have impressed Balaam profoundly. He
speaks almost as if in contempt of the devices he himself employs.
Indeed, he sees that his art is not art at all, as regards Israel.
The Hebrews trust no omens; and either for or against them omens give
no sign. It was another mark of the separateness of Israel. Jehovah
had fenced His people from the spells of the magician. True to Him,
they could defy all the sorcery of the East. And when the time for
further endeavour came, the nations around should have to hear of the
God who had brought the Hebrew tribes out of Egypt. With a lion-like
vigour they would rise from their lair by the Jordan. The Canaanites
and Amorites beyond should be their prey. Already perhaps tidings had
come of the defeat of Bashan: the cities on the other side Jordan
should fall in their turn.

As yet there is nothing in the predictions of Balaam that can be said
to point distinctly to any future event in Israel's history. The
oracles are of that general kind which might be expected from a man
of the world who has given attention to the signs of the times and
perceived the value to a people of strong and original faith. But
taking them in this sense they may well rebuke that modern disbelief
which denies the inspiring power of religion and the striking facts
which come to light not only in the history of nations like Israel
but in the lives of men whose vigour springs from religious zeal.
Balaam saw what any whose eyes are open will also see, that when
the shout of the Heavenly King is among a people, when they serve a
Divine Master, holy, just, and true, they have a standing ground and
an outlook not otherwise to be reached. The critics of religion who
take it to be a mere heat of the blood, a transient emotion, forget
that the grasp of great and generous principles, and the thought of
an Eternal Will to be served, give a sense of right and freedom which
expediency and self-pleasing cannot supply. However man comes to be
what he is, this is certain, that for him strength depends not so
much on bodily physique as on the soul, and for the soul on religious
inspiration. The enthusiasm of pleasure-seeking has never yet made a
band of men indomitable, nor need it be expected to give greatness;
we cannot persuade ourselves that apart from God our blessedness is a
matter of surpassing importance. We are a multitude whose individual
lives are very small, very short, very insignificant, unless they are
known to serve some Divine end.

It has been seen by one philosopher that if the religious sanction
be taken away from morality some other must be provided to fill up
the vacuum. Further, it may be said that if the religious support and
stimulus of human energy be withdrawn there will be a greater vacuum
more difficult to fill. The would-be benefactors of our race, who
think that the superstition of a personal God is effete and should
be swept away as soon as possible, so that man may return to nature,
might do well to return to Balaam. He had a penetration which they
do not possess. And singularly, the very apostle of that impersonal
"stream of tendency making for righteousness," which was once to be
put in the place of God, did on one occasion unwittingly remind us
of this prophet. Mr. Matthew Arnold had a difficult thing to do when
he tried to encourage a toiling population to go on toiling without
hope, to plod on in the underground while a select few above enjoyed
the sunlight. The part was that of a diviner finding auguries for the
inevitable. But he spoke as one who had to pity a poor blind Israel,
no longer inspired by the shout of a king or the hope of a promised
land, an Israel that had lost its faith and its way and seemed about
to perish in the desert. Well did he know how difficult it is for men
under this dread to endure patiently when those above have abolished
God and the future life; men, who are disposed to say, yet must be told
that they say vainly, "If there is nothing but this life, we must have
it. Let us help ourselves, whenever we can, to all we desire." Was that
Israel to be blessed or cursed? There was no oracle. Yet the cultured
Balak, hoping for a spell at least against the revolutionaries, had a
rebuke. The prophet did not curse; he had no power to bless. But Moab
was shown to be in peril, was warned to be generous.

Balaams enough there are, after a sort, with more or less penetration
and sincerity. But what the peoples need is a Moses to revive their
faith. The hollow maledictions and blessings that are now launched
incessantly from valley to hill, from hill to valley, would be
silenced if we found the leader who can re-awaken faith. It would be
superfluous, then, for the race in its fresh hope to bless itself,
and vain for the pessimists to curse it. With the ensign of Divine
love leading the way, and the new heavens and earth in view, all men
would be assured and hopeful, patient in suffering, fearless in death.

       *       *       *       *       *

The second oracle produced in the mind of Balak an effect of
bewilderment, not of complete discomfiture. He appears to be caught
so far in the afflatus that he must hear all the prophet has to tell.
He desires Balaam neither to curse nor bless; neutrality would be
something. Yet, with all he has already heard giving clear indication
what more is to be expected, he proposes another place, another trial
of the auguries. This time the whole of Israel shall again be seen.
The top of Peor that looketh down upon Jeshimon, or the desert, is
chosen. On this occasion when the altars and sacrifices are prepared
the order is not the same as before. The diviner does not retire
to a distance to seek for omens. He makes no profession of mystery
now. The temperature of thought and feeling is high, for the spot on
which the company gathers is almost within range of the sentinels
of Israel. The adventure is surely one of the strangest which the
East ever witnessed. In the dramatic unfolding of it the actors and
spectators are alike absorbed.

       *       *       *       *       *

The third prophetic chant repeats several of the expressions contained
in the second, and adds little; but it is more poetical in form. The
prophet standing on the height saw "immediately below him the vast
encampment of Israel amongst the acacia groves of Abel Shittim--like
the water-courses of the mountains, like the hanging gardens beside
his own river Euphrates, with their aromatic shrubs and their
wide-spreading cedars. Beyond them on the western side of Jordan rose
the hills of Palestine, with glimpses through their valleys of ancient
cities towering on their crested heights. And beyond all, though he
could not see it with his bodily vision, he knew well that there rolled
the deep waters of the great sea, with the Isles of Greece, the Isle
of Chittim--a world of which the first beginnings of life were just
stirring, of which the very name here first breaks upon our ears."
From the deep meditation which passed into a trance the diviner awoke
to gaze for a little upon that scene, to look fixedly once more on the
camp of the Hebrew tribes, and then he began:--

      "Balaam the son of Beor saith,
       And the man whose eye was closed saith:
       He saith who heareth the words of El,
       Who seeth the vision of Shaddai,
       Falling down and having his eyes opened."

Thus in the consciousness of an exalted state of mind which has
come with unusual symptoms, the ecstasy that overpowers and brings
visions before the inward eye, he vaunts his inspiration. There is
no small resemblance to the manner in which the afflatus came to
seers of Israel in after-times; yet the description points more
distinctly to the rapture of one like King Saul, who has been swept
by some temporary enthusiasm into a strain of thought, an emotional
atmosphere, beyond ordinary experience. The far-reaching encampment
is first poetically described, with images that point to perennial
vitality and strength. Then as a settled nation Israel is described,
irrigating broad fields and sowing them to reap an abundant harvest.
Why comparison is made between the power of Israel and Agag one can
only guess. Perhaps the reigning chief of the Amalekites was at this
time distinguished by the splendour of his court, so that his name
was a type of regal magnificence. The images of the wild ox and the
lion are repeated with additional emphasis; and the strain rises to
its climax in the closing apostrophe:--

      "Blessed be every one that blesseth thee
       And cursed be every one that curseth thee."

So strongly is Israel established in the favour of Shaddai, the
Almighty One, that attempts to injure her will surely recoil on the
head of the aggressor. And on the other hand, to help Israel, to bid
her God-speed, will be a way to blessedness. Jehovah will make the
overflowing of His grace descend like rain on those who take Israel's
part and cheer her on her way.

In the light of what afterwards took place, it is clear that Balaam
was in this last ejaculation carried far beyond himself. He may
have seen for a moment, in the flash of a heavenly light, the high
distinction to which Israel was advancing. He certainly felt that
to curse her would be perilous, to bless her meritorious. But the
thought, like others of a more spiritual nature, did not enter
deeply into his mind. Balaam could utter it with a kind of strenuous
cordiality, and then do his utmost to falsify his own prediction.
What matter fine emotions and noble protestations if they are only
momentary and superficial? Balak's open jealousy and hatred of Israel
were, after all, more complimentary to her than the high-sounding
praises of Balaam, who spoke as enjoying the elation of the prophet,
not as delighting in the tenor of his message. Israel was nothing to
him. Soon the prosperity to which she was destined became like gall
and wormwood to his soul. The encampment roused his admiration at the
time, but afterwards, when it became clear that the Israelites would
have none of him, his mood changed towards them. Ambition ruled him
to the end; and if the Hebrews did not offer in any way to minister
to it, a man like Balaam would by-and-by set himself to bring down
their pride. Weak humanity gives many examples of this. The man who
has been an expectant flatterer of one greater than himself, but is
denied the notice and honour he looks for, becomes, when his hopes
have finally to be renounced, the most savage assailant, the most
bitter detractor of his former hero. And so strong often are the
minds which fall in this manner, that we look sometimes with anxiety
even to the highest.




                                  XXI

                       _THE MATTER OF BAAL-PEOR_

                        NUMBERS xxiv. 10-xxv. 18


The last oracle of Balaam, as we have it, ventures into far more
explicit predictions than the others, and passes beyond the range of
Hebrew history. Its chief value for the Israelites lay in what was
taken to be a Messianic prophecy contained in it, and various bold
denunciations of their enemies. Whether the language can bear the
important meanings thus found in it is a matter of considerable doubt.
On the whole, it appears best not to make over-much of the prescience
of this _mashal_, especially as we cannot be sure that we have it in
the original form. One fact may be given to prove this. In Jeremiah
xlviii. 45, an oracle regarding Moab embodies various fragments of the
Book of Numbers, and one clause seems to be a quotation from chap.
xxiv. 17. In Numbers the reading is, "and break down וְקַּרְקַר, all
the sons of tumult שֵׁת;" in Jeremiah it is, "and the crown of the
head וְקָדְקֹֽד of the sons of tumult שָׁאוֹן." The resemblance leaves
little doubt of the derivation of the one expression from the other,
and at the same time shows diversity in the text.

The earlier deliverances of Balaam had disappointed the king of Moab;
the third kindled his anger. It was intolerable that one called to
curse his enemies should bless them again and again. Balaam would
do well to get him back to his own place. That Jehovah of whom he
spake had kept him from honour. If he delayed he might find himself
in peril. But the diviner did not retire. The word that had come to
him should be spoken. He reminded Balak of the terms on which he had
begun his auguries, and, perhaps to embitter Moab against Israel,
persisted in advertising Balak "what this people should do to his
people in the latter days."

The opening was again a vaunt of his high authority as a seer, one who
knew the knowledge of Shaddai. Then, with ambiguous forms of speech
covering the indistinctness of his outlook, he spoke of one whom he saw
far away, in imagination, not reality, a personage bright and powerful,
who should rise star-like out of Jacob, bearing the sceptre of Israel,
who should smite through the corners of Moab and break down the sons
of tumult. Over Edom and Seir he should triumph, and his dominion
should extend to the city which had become the last refuge of a hostile
people. Of spiritual power and right there is not a trace in this
prediction. It is unquestionably the military vigour of Israel gathered
up into the headship of some powerful king Balaam sees on the horizon
of his field of view. But he anticipates with no uncertainty that Moab
shall be attacked and broken, and that the victorious leader shall even
penetrate to the fastnesses of Edom and reduce them. A people like
Israel, with so great vitality, would not be content to have jealous
enemies upon its very borders, and Balak is urged to regard them with
more hatred and fear than he has yet shown.

The view that this prophecy "finds its preliminary fulfilment in
David, in whom the kingdom was established, and by whose victories
the power of Moab and Edom was broken, but its final and complete
fulfilment only in Christ," is supported by the unanimous belief of
the Jews, and has been adopted by the Christian Church. Yet it must
be allowed that the victories of David did not break the power of
Moab and Edom, for these peoples are found again and again, after his
time, in hostile attitude to Israel. And it is not to the purpose to
say that in Christ the kingdom reaches perfection, that He destroys
the enemies of Israel. Nor is there an argument for the Messianic
reference worth considering in the fact that the pseudo-Messiah in
the reign of Hadrian styled himself Bar-cochba, son of the star.
A pretender to Messiahship might snatch at any title likely to
secure for him popular support; his choice of a name proves only
the common belief of the Jews, and that was very ignorant, very far
from spiritual. There is indeed more force in the notion that the
star by which the wise men of the East were guided to Bethlehem is
somehow related to this prophecy. Yet that also is too imaginative.
The oracle of Balaam refers to the virility and prospective dominance
of Israel, as a nation favoured by the Almighty and destined to be
strong in battle. The range of the prediction is not nearly wide
enough for any true anticipation of a Messiah gaining universal sway
by virtue of redeeming love. It is becoming more and more necessary
to set aside those interpretations which identify the Saviour of the
world with one who smites and breaks down and destroys, who wields a
sceptre after the manner of oriental despots.

In Balaam's vision small nations with which he happens to be
acquainted bulk largely--the Kenites, Amalek, Moab, and Edom. To
him the Amalekites appear as having once been "the first of the
nations." We may explain, as before, that he had been impressed on
some occasion by what he had seen of their force and the royal state
of their king. The Kenites, dwelling either among the cliffs of
Engedi or the mountains of Galilee, were a very small tribe; and the
Amalekites, as well as the people of Moab and Edom, were of little
account in the development of human history. At the same time the
prophecy looks in one direction to a power destined to become very
great, when it speaks of the ships of Chittim. The course of empire
is seen to be westward. Asshur, or Assyria, and Eber--the whole
Abrahamic race, perhaps, including Israel--are threatened by this
rising power, the nearest point of which is Cyprus in the Great Sea.
Balaam is, we may say, a political prophet: to class him among those
who testified of Christ is to exalt far too much his inspiration and
read more into his oracles than they naturally contain. There is no
deep problem in the narrative regarding him--as, for instance, how
a man false at heart could in any sense enter into those gracious
purposes of God for the human race which were fulfilled by Christ.

       *       *       *       *       *

Balaam, we are told, "rose up and returned to his own place";
and from this it would seem that with bitterness in his heart he
betook himself to Pethor. If he did so, vainly hoping still that
Israel would appeal to him, he soon returned to give Balak and the
Midianites advice of the most nefarious kind. We learn from xxxi. 16,
that through his counsel the Midianite women caused the children of
Israel to commit trespass against Jehovah in the matter of Peor. The
statement is a link between chaps. xxiv. and xxv. Vainly had Balaam
as a diviner matched himself against the God of Israel. Resenting his
defeat, he sought and found another way which the customs of his own
people in their obscure idolatrous rites too readily suggested. The
moral law of Jehovah and the comparative purity of the Israelites
as His people kept them separate from the other nations, gave them
dignity and vigour. To break down this defence would make them like
the rest, would withdraw them from the favour of their God and even
defeat His purposes. The scheme was one which only the vilest craft
could have conceived; and it shows us too plainly the real character
of Balaam. He must have known the power of the allurements which he
now advised as the means of attack on those he could not touch with
his maledictions nor gain by his soothsaying. In the shadow of this
scheme of his we see the diviner and all his tribe, and indeed the
whole morality of the region, at their very worst.

The tribes were still in the plain of Jordan; and we may suppose
that the victorious troops had returned from the campaign against
Bashan, when a band of Midianites, professing the utmost friendliness,
gradually introduced themselves into the camp. Then began the
temptation to which the Midianitish women, some of them of high rank,
willingly devoted themselves. It was to impurity and idolatry, to
degradation of manhood in body and soul, to abjuration at once of
faith and of all that makes individual and social life. The orgies
with which the Midianites were familiar belonged to the dark side of
a nature-cultus which carried the distinction between male and female
into religious symbolism, and made abject prostration of life before
the Divinity a crowning act of worship. Surviving still, the same
practices are in India and elsewhere the most dreadful and inveterate
barriers which the Gospel and Christian civilisation encounter. The
Israelites were assailed unexpectedly, it would appear, and in a time
of comparative inaction. Possibly, also, the camp was composed to some
extent of men whose families were still in Kadesh waiting the conquest
of the land of Canaan to cross the border. But the fact need not be
concealed that the polygamy which prevailed among the Hebrews was an
element in their danger. That had not been forbidden by the law; it
was even countenanced by the example of Moses. The custom, indeed, was
one which at the stage of development Israel had reached implied some
progress; for there are conditions even worse than polygamy against
which it was a protest and safeguard. But like every other custom
falling short of the ideal of the family, it was one of great peril;
and now disaster came. The Midianites brought their sacrifices and slew
them; the festival of Baal-peor was proclaimed. "The people did eat and
bowed down to their gods." It was a transgression which demanded swift
and terrible judgment. The chief men of the tribes who had joined in
the abominable rites were taken and "hanged up before the Lord against
the sun"; the "judges of Israel" were commanded to slay "every one his
men that were joined unto Baal-peor."

The narrative of the "Priests' Code," beginning at ver. 6, and
going on to the close of the chapter, adds details of the sin and
its punishment. Assuming that the row of stakes with their ghastly
burden is in full view, and the dead bodies of those slain by the
executioners are lying about the camp, this narrative shows the
people gathered at the tent of meeting, many of them in tears. There
is a plague, too, which is rapidly spreading and carrying off the
transgressors. In the midst of the sorrow and wailing, when the chief
men should have been bowed down in repentance, one of the princes
of Simeon is seen leading by the hand his Midianitish paramour,
herself a chief's daughter. In the very sight of Moses and the people
the guilty persons enter a tent. Then Phinehas, son of Eleazar the
priest, following them, inflicts with a javelin the punishment of
death. It is a daring but a true deed; and for it Phinehas and
his seed after him are promised the "covenant of peace," even the
"covenant of an everlasting priesthood." His swift stroke has
vindicated the honour of God, and "made an atonement for the children
of Israel." An act like this, when the elemental laws of morality are
imperilled and a whole people needs a swift and impressive lesson,
is a tribute to God which He will reward and remember. True, one of
the priestly house should keep aloof from death. But the emergency
demands immediate action, and he who is bold enough to strike at once
is the true friend of men and of God.

The question may be put, whether this is not justice of too rude
and ready a kind to be praised in the name of religion. To some it
may seem that the honour of God could not be served by the deed
attributed to Phinehas; that he acted in passion rather than in the
calm deliberation without which justice cannot be dealt out by man
to man. Would not this excuse the passionate action of a crowd,
impatient of the forms of law, that hurries an offender to the
nearest tree or lamp-post? And the answer cannot be that Israel
was so peculiarly under covenant to God that its necessity would
exonerate a deed otherwise illegal. We must face the whole problem
alike of personal and of united action for the vindication of
righteousness in times of widespread license.

It is not necessary now to slay an offender in order clearly
and emphatically to condemn his crime. In that respect modern
circumstances differ from those we are discussing. Upon Israel, as
it was at the time of this tragedy, no impression could have been
made deep and swift enough for the occasion otherwise than by the
act of Phinehas. But for an offender of the same rank now, there is
a punishment as stern as death, and on the popular mind it produces
a far greater effect--publicity, and the reprobation of all who love
their fellowmen and God. The act of Phinehas was not assassination;
a similar act now would be, and it would have to be dealt with as
a crime. The stroke now is inflicted by public accusation, which
results in public trial and public condemnation. From the time to
which the narrative refers, on to our own day, social conditions
have been passing through many phases. Occasionally there have been
circumstances in which the swift judgment of righteous indignation
was justifiable, though it did seem like assassination. And in no
case has such action been more excusable than when the purity of
family life has been invaded, while the law of the land would not
interfere. We do not greatly wonder that in France the avenging of
infidelity is condoned when the sufferer snatches a justice otherwise
unattainable. That is not indeed to be praised, but the imperfection
of law is a partial apology. The higher the standard of public
morality the less needful is this venture on the Divine right to
kill. And certainly it is not private revenge that is ever to be
sought, but the vindication of the elemental righteousness on which
the well-being of humanity depends. Phinehas had no private revenge
to seek. It was the public good.

       *       *       *       *       *

It is confidently affirmed by Wellhausen that the "Priestly Code"
makes the cultus the principal thing, and this, he says, implies
retrogression from the earlier idea. The passage we are considering,
like many others ascribed to the "Priests' Code," makes something else
than the cultus the principal thing. We are told that in the teaching
of this code "the bond between cultus and sensuality is severed; no
danger can arise of an admixture of impure, immoral elements, a danger
which was always present in Hebrew antiquity." But here the danger
is admitted, the cultus is entirely out of sight, and the sin of
sensuality is conspicuous. When Phinehas intervenes, moreover, it is
not in harmony with any statute or principle laid down in the "Priests'
Code"--rather, indeed, against its general spirit, which would prohibit
an Aaronite from a deed of blood. According to the whole tenor of the
law the priesthood had its duties, carefully prescribed, by doing which
faithfulness was to be shown. Here an act of spontaneous zeal, done not
"on the positive command of a will outside," but on the impulse arising
out of a fresh occasion,[11] receives the approval of Jehovah, and
the "covenant of an everlasting priesthood" is confirmed for the sake
of it. Was Phinehas in any sense carrying out statutory instructions
for atonement on behalf of Israel when he inflicted the punishment
of death on Zimri and his paramour? To identify the "Priestly Code"
with "cultus legislation," and that with theocracy, and then declare
the cultus to have become a "pedagogic instrument of discipline,"
"estranged from the heart," is to make large demands on our inattention.

       *       *       *       *       *

In the closing verses of the chapter another question of a moral
nature is involved. It is recorded that after the events we have
considered Jehovah spake unto Moses, saying, "Vex the Midianites,
and smite them; for they vex you with their wiles, wherewith they
have beguiled you in the matter of Peor, and in the matter of Cozbi,
the daughter of the prince of Midian, their sister, which was slain
on the day of the plague in the matter of Peor." Now is it for the
sake of themselves and their own safety the Israelites are to smite
Midian? Is retaliation commanded? Does God set enmity between the one
people and the other, and so doing make confession that Israel has no
duty of forgiveness, no mission to convert and save?

There is difficulty in pronouncing judgment as to the point of view
taken by the narrator. Some will maintain that the historian here,
whoever he was, had no higher conception of the command than that it
was one which sanctioned revenge. And there is nothing on the face of
the narrative which can be brought forward to disprove the charge.
Yet it must be remembered that the history proceeds on the theocratic
conception of Israel's place and destiny. To the writer Israel is of
less account in itself than as a people rescued from Egypt and called
to nationality in order to serve Jehovah. The whole tenor of the
"Priests' Code" narrative as well as of the other bears this out.
There is no patriotic zeal in the narrow sense,--"My country right or
wrong." Scarcely a passage can be pointed to implying such a sentiment,
such a drift of thought. The underlying idea in the whole story is
the sacredness of morality, not of Israel; and the suppression or
extinction of this tribe of Midianites with their obscene idolatry is
God's will, not Israel's. Too plain, indeed, is it that the Israelites
would have preferred to leave Midian and other tribes of the same low
moral cast unmolested, free to pursue their own ends.

And Jehovah is not revengeful, but just. The vindication of morality
at the time the Book of Numbers deals with, and long afterwards,
could only be through the suppression of those who were identified
with dangerous forms of vice. The forces at command in Israel were
not equal to the task of converting; and what could be achieved was
commanded--opposition, enmity; if need were, exterminating war.
The better people has a certain spiritual capacity, but not enough
to make it fit for what may be called moral missionary work. It
would suffer more than it would gain if it entered on any kind of
intercourse with Midian with the view of raising the standard of
thought and life. All that can be expected meanwhile is that the
Israelites shall be at issue with a people so degraded; they are to
be against the Midianites, keep them from power in the world, subject
them by the sword.

Our judgment, then, is that the narrative sustains a true theocracy
in this sense, exhibits Israel as a unique phenomenon in human
history, not impossible,--there lies the clear veracity of the Bible
accounts,--but playing a part such as the times allowed, such as the
world required. From a passage like that now before us, and the
sequel, the war with Midian, which some have regarded as a blot on the
pages of Scripture, an argument for its inspiration may be drawn. We
find here no ethical anachronisms, no impracticable ideas of charity
and pardon. There is a sane and strenuous moral aim, not out of keeping
with the state of things in the world of that time, yet showing the
rule and presenting the will of a God who makes Israel a protesting
people. The Hebrews are men, not angels; men of the old world, not
Christians--true! Who could have received this history if it had
represented them as Christians, and shown us God giving them commands
fit for the Church of to-day? They are called to a higher morality
than that of Egypt, for theirs is to be spiritual; higher than that
of Chaldea or of Canaan, for Chaldea is shrouded in superstition,
Canaan in obscene idolatry. They can do something; and what they
can do Jehovah commands them to do. And He is not an imperfect God
because His prophet does not give from the first a perfect Christian
law, a redeeming gospel. He is the "I Am." Let the whole course of
Old Testament development be traced, and the sanity and coherency of
the theocratic idea as it is presented in law and prophecy, psalm and
parable, cannot fail to convince any just and frank inquirer.

       *       *       *       *       *

The end of Balaam's life may be glanced at before the pages close
that refer to his career. In xxxi. 8, it is stated that in the battle
which went against the Midianites Balaam was slain. We do not know
whether he was so maddened by his disappointment as to take the
sword against Jehovah and Israel, or whether he only joined the army
of Midian in his capacity of augur. F. W. Robertson imagines "the
insane frenzy with which he would rush into the field, and finding
all go against him, and that lost for which he had bartered heaven,
after having died a thousand worse than deaths, find death at last
upon the spears of the Israelites." It is of course possible to
imagine that he became the victim of his own insane passion. But
Balaam never had a profound nature, was never more than within sight
of the spiritual world. He appears as the calculating, ambitious man,
who would reckon his chances to the last, and with coolness, and what
he believed to be sagacity, decide on the next thing to attempt. But
his penetration failed him, as at a certain point it fails all men of
his kind. He ventured too far, and could not draw back to safety.

The death he died was almost too honourable for this false prophet,
unless, indeed, he fell fleeing like a coward from the battle. One
who had recognised the power of a higher faith than his countrymen
professed, and saw a nation on the way to the vigour that faith
inspired, who in personal spleen and envy set in operation a scheme
of the very worst sort to ruin Israel, was not an enemy worth the
edge of the sword. Let us suppose that a Hebrew soldier found him in
flight, and with a passing stroke brought him to the ground. There is
no tragedy in such a death; it is too ignominious. Whatever Balaam was
in his boyhood, whatever he might have been when the cry escaped him,
"Let me die the death of the righteous," selfish craft had brought him
below the level of the manhood of the time. Balak with his pathetic
faith in cursing and incantation now seems a prince beside the augur.
For Balaam, though he knew Jehovah after a manner, had no religion,
had only the envy of the religion of others. He came on the stage with
an air that almost deceived Balak and has deceived many. He leaves it
without one to lament him. Or shall we rather suppose that even for
him, in Pethor beyond the Euphrates, a wife or child waited and prayed
to Sutekh and, when the tidings of his death were brought, fell into
inconsolable weeping? Over the worst they think and do men draw the
veil to hide it from some eyes. And Balaam, a poor, mean tool of the
basest cravings, may have had one to believe in him, one to love him.
He reminds us of Absalom in his character and actions--Absalom, a man
void of religion and morals; and for him the father he had dethroned
and dishonoured wept bitterly in the chamber over the gate of Mahanaim,
"My son Absalom! would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my
son!" So may some woman in Pethor have wailed for Balaam fallen under
the spear of a Hebrew warrior.

FOOTNOTE:

[11] Wellhausen, "Prolegomena," p. 424.




                                  XXII

                           _A NEW GENERATION_

                          NUMBERS xxvi., xxvii


The numbering at Sinai before the sojourn in the Desert of Paran has
its counterpart in the numbering now recorded. In either case those
reckoned are the men able to go forth to war, from twenty years old and
upward. Once, an easy entrance into the land of promise may have been
expected; but that dream has long passed away. Now the Israelites are
made clearly to understand that the last effort will require the whole
warlike energy they can summon, the best courage of every one who can
handle sword or spear. There has been hitherto comparatively little
fighting. The Amalekites at an early stage, afterwards the Amorites
and the Bashanites, have had to be attacked. Now, however, the serious
strife is to begin. Peoples long established in Canaan have to be
assailed and dispossessed. Let the number of capable men be reckoned
that there may be confidence for the advance.

Nothing is to be won without energy, courage, unity, wise preparation
and adjustment of means to ends. True, the battle is the Lord's, and
He can give victory to the few over the many, to the feeble over the
strong. But not even in the case of Israel are the ordinary laws
suspended. This people has an advantage in its faith. That is enough
to support the army in the coming struggle; and the Israelites must
make Canaan theirs by force of arms. For, surely, in a sense, there
is right on the other side, the right of prior possession at least.
The Canaanites, Hittites, Jebusites, Hivites have tilled the land,
planted vineyards, built cities, and fulfilled, so far, their mission
in the world. They, indeed, never feel themselves secure. Often one
tribe falls on the territory of another, and takes possession. The
right to the soil has to be continually guarded by military power
and courage. It is not wonderful to Amorites that another race
should attempt the conquest of their land. But it would be strange,
humanly speaking impossible, that a weaker, less capable people
should master those who are presently in occupation. By the great
laws that govern human development, the dominant laws of God we may
call them, this could not be. Israel must show itself powerful, must
prove the right of might, otherwise it shall not even yet obtain the
inheritance it has long been desiring. The might of some nations is
purely that of animal physique and dogged determination. Others rise
higher in virtue of their intellectual vigour, splendid discipline,
and ingenious appliances. Man for man, Israelites should be a match
for any people, because there is trust in Jehovah, and hope in His
promise. Now the trial of battle is to be made; the Hebrews are to
realise that they will need all their strength.

Do we ever imagine that the law of endeavour shall be relaxed for us,
either in the physical or in the spiritual region? Is it supposed
that at some point, when after struggling through the wilderness we
have but a narrow stream between us and the coveted inheritance, the
object of our desire shall be bestowed in harmony with some other
law, having been procured by other efforts than our own? Thinking so,
we only dream. What we gain by our endeavour--physical, intellectual,
spiritual--can alone become a real possession. The future discipline
of humanity is misunderstood, the forecast is altogether wrong, when
this is not comprehended. In this world we have that for which we
labour; nothing more. So-called properties and domains do not belong
to their nominal owners, who have merely "inherited." The literature
of a country does not belong to those who possess books in which it
is contained; it is the domain of men and women who have toiled for
every ell and inch of ground. And spiritually, while all is the gift
of God, all has to be won by efforts of the soul. Before humanity
lies a Canaan, a Paradise. But no easy way of acquisition shall ever
be found, no other way indeed than has all along been followed. The
men of God able to go forth to war need to be numbered and brought
under discipline for the conquests that remain. And what is yet to
be won by moral courage and devotion to the highest shall have to be
kept in like manner.

The second numbering of the people showed that a new generation
filled the ranks. Plagues that swept away thousands, or the slow,
sure election of death, had taken all who left Egypt excepting a few.
It was the same Israel, yet another. Is, then, the nation of account,
and not the individuals who compose it? Perhaps the two numberings
may be intended to guard us against this error; at all events, we
may take them so. Man by man, the host was reckoned at Sinai; man
by man it is reckoned again in the plains of Moab. There were six
hundred and three thousand five hundred and fifty: there are six
hundred and one thousand seven hundred and thirty. The numberings
by the command of Jehovah could not but mean that His eye was upon
each. And when the new race looked back along the wilderness way,
each group remembering its own graves over which the sand of the
desert was blown, there might at least be the thought that God also
remembered, and that the mouldering dust of those who, despite their
transgression, had been brave and loving and honest, was in His
keeping. Israel was experiencing a singular break in its history. It
would begin its new career in Canaan without memorials, except that
cave at Machpelah where, centuries before, Abraham and Sarah, Isaac
and Jacob, had been buried, and the field at Shechem where the body
of Joseph was laid. No graves but these would be the monuments of
Israel. In Jehovah, the Ancient of Days, lay the history, with Him
the career of the tribes.

The past receding, the future advancing, and God the sole abiding link
between them. For us, as for Israel, notwithstanding all our care of
the monuments and gains of the past, that is the one sustaining faith;
and it is adequate, inspiring. The swift decay of life, the constant
flux of humanity, would be our despair if we had not God.

      "Thou carriest them away as with a flood; they are as a sleep:
       In the morning they are like grass which groweth up.
       In the morning it flourisheth and groweth up;
       In the evening it is cut down and withereth."

So the "Prayer of Moses the man of God," under the saddening thought
of mortality. But God is "from everlasting to everlasting," "the
dwelling place of His people in all generations." The life that
begins in the Divine will, and enjoys its day under the Divine care,
blends with the current, yet is not absorbed. A generation or a
people lives only as the men and women that compose it live. Such is
the final judgment, Christ's judgment, by which all providence is to
be interpreted. An Israelite might enter much into the national hope,
and to some extent forget himself for the sake of it. But his proper
life was never in that forgetfulness: it was always in personal
energy of will and soul that contributed to the nation's strength
and progress. The tribes, Reuben, Simeon, Judah, and the rest, are
mustered. But the men make the tribes, give them quality, value; or
rather, of the men, those who are brave, faithful, and true.

That each life is a fact in the Eternal overflowing Life, conscious
of all--in this there is comfort for us who are numbered among the
millions, with no particular claim to reminiscence, and aware, at
any rate, that when a few years pass the world will forget us. In
vain the most of us seek a niche in the Valhalla of the race, or
the record of a single line in the history of our time. Whatever
our suffering or achieving, are we not doomed to oblivion? The
grave-yard will keep our dust, the memorial stone will preserve our
names--but for how long? Until in the evolutions that are to come
the ploughshare of a covetous age tears up the soil we imagine to be
consecrated for ever. But there is a memory that does not grow old,
in which for good or evil we are enshrined. "We all live unto God."
The Divine consciousness of us is our strength and hope. It alone
keeps the soul from despair--or, if the life has not been in faith,
stings with a desperate reassurance. Does God remember us with the
love He beareth to His own? In any case each human life is held in an
abiding consciousness, a purpose which is eternal.

The page of Israel's history we are reading preserves many names. It
is in outline a genealogy of the tribes. Reuben's sons are Hanoch,
Pallu, Hezron, Carmi. The son of Pallu is Eliab. The sons of Eliab
are Nemuel, Dathan, and Abiram. And of Dathan and Abiram we are
reminded that they strove against Moses and Aaron in the company of
Korah; and the earth opened her mouth and swallowed them up. The
judgment of evildoers is commemorated. The rest have their praise in
this alone, that they held aloof from the sin. Turn to other tribes,
Zebulun, Asher, Naphtali, for instance, and in the case of each the
names of those who were heads of families are given. In the First
Book of Chronicles the genealogy is extended, with various details
of settlement and history. In what are we to find the explanation of
this attempt to preserve the lineage of families, and the ancestral
names? If the progenitors were great men, distinguished by heroism,
or by faith, the pride of the descendants might have a show of
reason. Or again, if the families had kept the pure Hebrew descent
we should be able to understand. But no greatness is assigned to the
heads of families, not a single mark of achievement or distinction.
And the Israelites did not preserve their purity of race. In
Canaan, as we learn from the Book of Judges, they "dwelt among the
Canaanites, the Hittite, and the Amorite, and the Perizzite, and the
Hivite, and the Jebusite: and they took their daughters to be their
wives, and gave their own daughters to their sons, and served their
gods" (iii. 5, 6).

The sole reason we can find for these records is the consciousness of
a duty which the Israelites felt, but did not always perform--to keep
themselves separate as Jehovah's people. In the more energetic minds,
through all national defection and error, that consciousness survived.
And it served its end. The Bene-Israel, tracing their descent through
the heads of families and tribes to Jacob, Isaac, Abraham, realised
their distinctness from other races and entered upon a unique destiny
which is not yet fulfilled. It is a singular testimony to what on the
human side appears as an idea, a sentiment; to what on the Divine side
is a purpose running through the ages. Because of this human sentiment
and this Divine purpose, the former maintained apparently by the pride
of race, by genealogies, by traditions often singularly unspiritual,
but really by the over-ruling providence of God, Israel became unique,
and filled an extraordinary place among the nations. Many things
co-operated to make her a people regarding whom it could be said:
"Israel never stood quietly by to see the world badly governed, under
the authority of a God reputed to be just. Her sages burned with anger
over the abuses of the world. A bad man, dying old, rich, and at ease,
kindled their fury; and the prophets in the ninth century B.C. elevated
this idea to the height of a dogma.... The childhood of the elect is
full of signs and prognostics, which are only recognised afterwards."
A race may treasure its ancient records and venerated names to little
purpose, may preserve them with no other result than to mark its own
degeneracy and failure. Israel did not. The Unseen King of this people
so ordered their history that greater and still greater names were
added to the rolls of their leaders, heroes, and prophets, until the
Shiloh came.

By the computations that survive, a diminished yet not greatly
diminished number of fighting men was reckoned in the plains of Moab.
Some tribes had fallen away considerably, others had increased,
Simeon notably among the former, Judah and Manasseh among the latter.
The causes of diminution and increase alike are purely conjectural.
Simeon may have been involved in the sin of Baal-peor more than the
others and suffered proportionately. Yet we cannot suppose that,
on the whole, character had much to do with numerical strength.
Assuming the transgressions of which the history informs us and the
punishments that followed them, we must believe that the tribes were
on much the same moral plane. In the natural course of things there
would have been a considerable increase in the numbers of men. The
hardships and judgments of the desert and the defection of some by
the way are general causes of diminution. We have also seen reason
to believe that a proportion, not perhaps very great, remained at
Kadesh, and did not take the journey round Edom. It is certainly
worthy of notice with regard to Simeon that the final allocation
of territory gave to this tribe the district in which Kadesh was
situated. The small increase of the tribe of Levi is another fact
shown by the second census; and we remember that Simeon and Levi were
brethren (Gen. xlix. 5).

The numbering in the plains of Moab is connected in vv. 52-6 with
the division of the land among the tribes. "To the more thou shalt
give the more inheritance, and to the fewer thou shalt give the less
inheritance: to every one according to those that were numbered of
him shall his inheritance be given." The principle of allocation is
obvious and just. No doubt the comparative value of different parts
of Canaan was to be taken into account. There were fertile plains on
the one hand, barren highlands on the other. These reckoned for, the
greater the tribe the larger was to be the district assigned to it.
An elementary rule; but how has it been set aside! Vast districts of
Great Britain are almost without inhabitants; others are overcrowded.
An even distribution of people over the land capable of tillage is
necessary to the national health. In no sense can it be maintained
that good comes of concentrating population in immense cities. But
the policy of proprietors is not more at fault than the ignorant rush
of those who desire the comforts and opportunities of town life.

       *       *       *       *       *

The twenty-seventh chapter is partly occupied with the details of a
case which raised a question of inheritance. Five daughters of one
Zelophehad of the tribe of Manasseh appealed to Moses on the ground
that they were the representatives of the household, having no
brother. Were they to have no possession because they were women? Was
the name of their father to be taken away because he had no son? It
was not to be supposed that the want of male descendants had been a
judgment on their father. He had died in the wilderness, but not as a
rebel against Jehovah, like those who were in the company of Korah.
He had "died in his own sins." They petitioned for an inheritance
among the brethren of their father.

The claim of these women appears natural if the right of heirship
is acknowledged in any sense, with this reservation, however, that
women might not be able properly to cultivate the land, and could not
do much in the way of defending it. And these, for the time, were
considerations of no small account. The five sisters may of course have
been ready to undertake all that was necessary as occupiers of a farm,
and no doubt they reckoned on marriage. But the original qualification
that justified heirship of land was ability to use the resources of
the inheritance and take part in all national duties. The decision
in this case marks the beginning of another conception--that of the
personal development of women. The claim of the daughters of Zelophehad
was allowed, with the result that they found themselves called to the
cultivation of mind and life in a manner which would not otherwise have
been open to them. They received by the judgment here recorded a new
position of responsibility as well as privilege. The law founded on
their case must have helped to make the women of Israel intellectually
and morally vigorous.

The rules of inheritance among an agricultural people, exposed to
hostile incursions, must, like that of ver. 8, assume the right of
sons in preference to daughters; but under modern social conditions
there are no reasons for any such preference, except indeed the
sentiment of family, and the maintenance of titles of rank. But the
truth is that inheritance, so-called, is every year becoming of
less moral account as compared with the acquisitions that are made
by personal industry and endeavour. Property is only of value as
it is a means to the enlargement and fortifying of the individual
life. The decision on behalf of the daughters of Zelophehad was of
importance for what it implied rather than for what it actually gave.
It made possible that dignity and power which we see illustrated
in the career of Deborah, whose position as a "mother in Israel"
does not seem to have depended much, if at all, on any accident of
inheritance; it was reached by the strength of her character and the
ardour of her faith.

       *       *       *       *       *

The generation that came from Egypt has passed away, and now (xxvii.
12) Moses himself receives his call. He is to ascend the mountain of
Abarim and look forth over the land Israel is to inhabit; then he
is to be gathered to his people. He is reminded of the sin by which
Aaron and he dishonoured God when they failed to sanctify Him at the
waters of Meribah. The burden of the Book of Numbers is revealed.
The brooding sadness which lies on the whole narrative is not cast
by human mortality but by moral transgression and defect. There is
judgment for revolt, as of those who followed Korah. There are men who
like Zelophehad die "in their own sins," filling up the time allowed
to imperfect obedience and faith, the limit of existence that falls
short of the glory of God. And Moses, whose life is lengthened that his
honourable task may be fully done, must all the more conspicuously pay
the penalty of his high misdemeanour. With the goal of Israel's great
destiny in view the narrative moves from shadow to shadow. Here and
throughout, this is a characteristic of Old Testament history. And the
shadows deepen as they rest on lives more capable of noble service,
more guilty in their disbelief and defiance of Jehovah.

The rebuke which darkens over Moses at the close and lies on his
grave does not obscure the greatness of the man; nor have all
the criticisms of the history in which he plays so great a part
overclouded his personality. The opening of Israel's career may not
now seem so marvellous in a sense as once it seemed, nor so remote
from the ordinary course of Providence. Development is found where
previously the complete law, institution, or system appeared to burst
at once into maturity. But the features of a man look clearly forth
on us from the Pentateuchal narrative; and the story of the life is
so coherent as to compel a belief in its veracity, which at the same
time is demanded by the circumstances of Israel. A beginning there
must have been, in the line which the earliest prophets continued,
and that beginning in a single mind, a single will. The Moses of
these books of the exodus is one who could have unfolded the ideas
from which the nationality of Israel sprang: a man of smaller mind
would have made a people of more ordinary frame. Institutions that
grow in the course of centuries may reflect their perfected form on
the story of their origin; it is, however, certain this cannot be
true of a faith. That does not develop. What it is at its birth it
continues to be; or if a change takes place it will be to the loss
of definiteness and power. Kuenen himself makes the three universal
religions to be Judaism, Mohammedanism and Christianity. The analogy
of the two latter is conclusive with regard to the first--that Moses
was the author of Israel's faith in Jehovah.

And this involves much, both with regard to the human characteristics
and the Divine inspiration of the founder, much that an after-age
would have been utterly incapable of imagining. When we find a life
depicted in these Pentateuchal narratives, corresponding in all its
features with the place that has to be filled, revealing one who,
under the conditions of Israel's nativity, might have made a way for
it into sustaining faith, it is not difficult to accept the details
in their substance. The records are certainly not Moses' own. They
are exoteric, now from the people's point of view, now from that of
the priests. But they present with wonderful fidelity and power what
in the life of the founder went to stamp his faith on the national
mind. And the marvellous thing is that the shadows as well as the
lights in the biography serve this great end. The gloom that falls
at Meribah and rests on Nebo tells of the character of Jehovah,
bears witness to the Supreme Royalty which Moses lived and laboured
to exalt. A living God, righteous and faithful, gracious to them
that trusted and served Him, who also visited iniquity--such was the
Jehovah between whom and Israel Moses stood as mediator, such the
Jehovah by whose command he was to ascend the height of Abarim to die.

To die, to be gathered to his people--and what then? It is at death
we reckon up the account and estimate the value and power of faith.
Has it made a man ready for his change, ripened his character,
established his work on a foundation as of rock? The command which
at Horeb Moses received long ago, and the revelation of God he there
enjoyed, have had their opportunity; to what have they come?

The supreme human desire is to know the nature, to understand the
distinctive glory of the Most High. At the bush Moses had been made
aware of the presence with him of the God of his fathers, the Fear
of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. His duty also had been made clear.
But the mystery of being was still unsolved. With sublime daring,
therefore, he pursued the inquiry: "Behold when I come unto the
children of Israel, and shall say unto them, The God of your fathers
hath sent me unto you; and they shall say to me, What is His name?
what shall I say unto them?" The answer came in apocalypse, in a
form of simple words:--"I AM THAT I AM." The solemn Name expressed
an intensity of life, a depth and power of personal being, far
transcending that of which man is conscious. It belongs to One who
has no beginning, whose life is apart from time, above the forces of
nature, independent of them. Jehovah says, "I am not what you see,
not what nature is, standing forth into the range of your sight;
I Am in eternal separation, self-existent, with underived fulness
of power and life." The remoteness and incomprehensibility of God
remain, although much is revealed. Whatever experience of life each
man sums up for himself in saying "I am," aids him in realising the
life of God. Have we aspired? have we loved? have we undertaken and
accomplished? have we thought deeply? Does any one in saying "I am"
include the consciousness of long and varied life?--the "I AM" of God
comprehends all that. And yet He changes not. Beneath our experience
of life which changes there is this great Living Essence. "I AM THAT
I AM," profoundly, eternally true, self-consistent, with whom is no
beginning of experience or purpose, yet controlling, harmonising,
yea, originating all in the unfathomable depths of an eternal Will.

Ideas like these, we must believe, shaped themselves, if not clearly,
at least in dim outline before the mind of Moses, and made the
faith by which he lived. And how had it proved itself as the stay
of endeavour, the support of a soul under heavy burdens of duty,
trial, and sorrowful consciousness? The reliance it gave had never
failed. In Egypt, before Pharaoh, Moses had been sustained by it as
one who had a sanction for his demands and actions which no king or
priest could claim. At Sinai it had given spiritual strength and
definite authority to the law. It was the spirit of every oracle,
the underlying force in every judgment. Faith in Jehovah, more than
natural endowments, made Moses great. His moral vision was wide and
clear because of it, his power among the people as a prophet and
leader rested upon it. And the fruit of it, which began to be seen
when Israel learned to trust Jehovah as the one living God and girt
itself for His service, has not even yet been all gathered in. We
pass by the theories of philosophy regarding the unseen to rest in
the revelation of God which embodies Moses' faith. His inspiration,
once for all, carried the world beyond polytheism to monotheism
unchallengeably true, inspiring, sublime.

There can be no doubt that death tested the faith of Moses as a
personal reliance on the Almighty. How he found sufficient help
in the thought of Jehovah when Aaron died, and when his own call
came, we can only surmise. For him it was a familiar certainty that
the Judge of all the earth did right. His own decision went with
that of Jehovah in every great moral question; and even when death
was involved, however great a punishment it appeared, however sad
a necessity, he must have said, Good is the will of the Lord. But
there was more than acquiescence. One who had lived so long with God,
finding all the springs and aims of life in Him, must have known that
irresistible power would carry on what had been begun, would complete
to its highest tower that building of which the foundation had been
laid. Moses had wrought not for self but for God; he could leave his
work in the Divine hand with absolute assurance that it would be
perfected. And as for his own destiny, his personal life, what shall
we say? Moses had been what he was through the grace of Him whose
name is "I AM THAT I AM." He could at least look into the dim region
beyond and say, "It is God's will that I pass through the gate. I am
spiritually His, and am strong in mind for His service. I have been
what He has willed, excepting in my transgression. I shall be what He
wills; and that cannot be ill for me; that will be best for me." God
was gracious and forgave sin, though He could not suffer it to pass
unjudged. Even in appointing death the Merciful One could not fail to
be merciful to His servant. The thought of Moses might not carry him
into the future of his own existence, into what should be after he
had breathed his last. But God was His; and he was God's.

So the personal drama of many acts and scenes draws to a close with
forebodings of the end, and yet a little respite ere the curtain
falls. The music is solemn as befits the night-fall, yet has a ring
of strong purpose and inexhaustible sufficiency. It is not the "still
sad music of humanity" we hear with the words, "Get thee up into this
mountain of Abarim, and behold the land which I have given unto the
children of Israel. And when thou hast seen it, thou also shalt be
gathered unto thy people, as Aaron thy brother was gathered." It is
the music of the Voice that awakens life, commands and inspires it,
cheers the strong in endeavour and soothes the tired to rest. He who
speaks is not weary of Moses, nor does He mean Moses to be weary of
his task. But this change lies in the way of God's strong purpose,
and it is assumed that Moses will neither rebel nor repine. Far away,
in an evolution unforeseen by man, will come the glorification of
One who is the Life indeed; and in His revelation as the Son of the
Eternal Father Moses will share. With Christ he will speak of the
change of death and that faith which overcomes all change.

       *       *       *       *       *

The designation of Joshua, who had long been the minister of Moses,
and perhaps for some time administrator of affairs, is recorded in
the close of the chapter. The prayer of Moses assumes that by direct
commission the fitness of Joshua must be signified to the people.
It might be Jehovah's will that, even yet, another should take the
headship of the tribes. Moses spake unto the Lord, saying, "Let
Jehovah, the God of the spirits of all flesh, appoint a man over the
congregation which may go out before them, and which may come in
before them, and which may lead them out and which may bring them
in; that the congregation of Jehovah be not as sheep which have no
shepherd." One who has so long endeavoured to lead, and found it so
difficult, whose heart and soul and strength have been devoted to
make Israel Jehovah's people, can relax his hold of things without
dismay only if he is sure that God will Himself choose and endow the
successor. What aimless wandering there would be if the new leader
proved incompetent, wanting wisdom or grace! How far about might
Israel's way yet be, in another sense than the compassing of Edom!
Before the Friend of Israel Moses pours out his prayer for a shepherd
fit to lead the flock.

And the oracle confirms the choice to which Providence has already
pointed. Joshua the son of Nun, "a man in whom is the spirit," is to
have the call and receive the charge. His investiture with official
right and dignity is to be in the sight of Eleazar the priest and
all the congregation. Moses shall put of his own honour upon Joshua
and declare his commission. Joshua shall not have the whole burden
of decision resting upon him, for Jehovah will guide him. Yet he
shall not have direct access to God in the tent of meeting as Moses
had. In the time of special need Eleazar "shall inquire for him by
the judgment of the Urim before Jehovah." Thus instructed, he shall
exercise high authority.

"A man in whom is the spirit"--such is the one outstanding personal
qualification. "The God of the spirits of all flesh" finds in Joshua
the sincere will, the faithful heart. The work that is to be done is
not of a spiritual kind, but grim fighting, control of an army and of
a people not yet amenable to law, under circumstances that will try a
leader's firmness, sagacity, and courage. Yet, even for such a task,
allegiance to Jehovah and His purpose regarding Israel, the enthusiasm
of faith, high spirit, not experience--these are the commendations
of the chief. Qualified thus, Joshua may occasionally make mistakes.
His calculations may not always be perfect, nor the means he employs
exactly fitted to the end. But his faith will enable him to recover
what is momentarily lost; his courage will not fail. Above all, he will
be no opportunist guided by the turn of events, yielding to pressure
or what may appear necessity. The one principle of faithfulness to
Jehovah will keep him and Israel in a path which must be followed even
if success in a worldly sense be not immediately found.

The priest who inquires of the Lord by Urim has a higher place under
Joshua's administration than under that of Moses. The theocracy will
henceforth have a twofold manifestation, less of unity than before.
And here the change is of a kind which may involve the gravest
consequences. The simple statement of ver. 12 denotes a very great
limitation of Joshua's authority as leader. It means that though
on many occasions he can both originate and execute, all matters
of moment shall have to be referred to the oracle. There will be a
possibility of conflict between him and the priest with regard to
the occasions that require such a reference to Jehovah. In addition
there may be the uncertainty of responses through the Urim, as
interpreted by the priest. It is easy also to see that by this method
of appealing to Jehovah the door was opened to abuses which, if not
in Joshua's time, certainly in the time of the judges, began to arise.

It may appear to some absolutely necessary to refer the Urim to a
far later date. The explanation given by Ewald, that the inquiry
was always by some definite question, and that the answer was
found by means of the lot, obviates this difficulty.[12] The Urim
and Thummim, which mean "clearness and correctness," or as in our
passage the Urim alone, may have been pebbles of different colours,
the one representing an affirmative, the other a negative reply.
But inquiry appears to have been made by these means after certain
rites, and with forms which the priest alone could use. It is
evident that absolute sincerity on his part, and unswerving loyalty
to Jehovah, were an important element in the whole administration
of affairs. A priest who became dissatisfied with the leader might
easily frustrate his plans. On the other hand, a leader dissatisfied
with the responses would be tempted to suspect and perhaps set aside
the priest. There can be no doubt that here a serious possibility
of divided counsels entered into the history of Israel, and we are
reminded of many after events. Yet the circumstances were such that
the whole power could not be committed to one man. With whatever
element of danger, the new order had to begin.

Moses laid his hands on Joshua and gave him his charge. As one
who knew his own infirmities, he could warn the new chief of the
temptations he would have to resist, the patience he would have to
exercise. It was not necessary to inform Joshua of the duties of his
office. With these he had become familiar. But the need for calm and
sober judgment required to be impressed upon him. It was here he was
defective, and here that his "honour" and the maintenance of his
authority would have to be secured. Deuteronomy mentions only the
exhortation Moses gave to be strong and of a good courage, and the
assurance that Jehovah would go before Joshua, would neither fail
him nor forsake him. But though much is recorded, much also remains
untold. An education of forty years had prepared Joshua for the hour
of his investiture. Yet the words of the chief he was so soon to lose
must have had no small part in preparing him for the burden and duty
which he was now called by Jehovah to sustain as leader of Israel.

FOOTNOTE:

[12] "Antiquities of Israel:" "The Priesthood."




                                 XXIII

                          _OFFERINGS AND VOWS_

                          NUMBERS xxviii.-xxx


The legislation of chapters xxviii.-xxx. appears to belong to a
time of developed ritual and organised society. Parallel passages
in Exodus and Leviticus treating of the feasts and offerings are by
no means so full in their details, nor do they even mention some of
the sacrifices here made statutory. The observances of New Moon are
enjoined in the Book of Numbers alone. In chapter xv. they are simply
noticed; here the order is fixed. The purpose of chapters xxviii.,
xxix. is especially to prescribe the number of animals that are to be
offered throughout the year at a central altar, and the quantities
of other oblations which are to accompany them. But the rotation of
feasts is also given in a more connected way than elsewhere; we have,
in fact, a legislative description of Israel's Sacred Year. Daily,
weekly, monthly, and at the two great festal seasons, Jehovah is to
be acknowledged by the people as the Redeemer of life, the Giver of
wealth and blessedness. Of their cattle and sheep, and the produce
of the land, they are to bring continual oblations, which are to be
their memorial before Him. By their homage and by their gladness, by
afflicting themselves and by praising God, they shall realise their
calling as His people.

The section regarding vows (ch. xxx.) completes the legislation
on that subject, supplementing Lev. xxvii. and Numb. vi. It is
especially interesting for the light it throws on the nature of
family life, the position of women and the limitations of their
freedom. The link between the law of offerings and the law of vows
is hard to find; but we can easily understand the need for rules
concerning women's vows. The peace of families might often be
disturbed by lavish promises which a husband or a father might find
it impossible or inconvenient to fulfil.


                           1. THE SACRED YEAR

                          NUMBERS xxviii.-xxix

Throughout the year, each day, each sabbath, and each month is to
be consecrated by oblations of varying value, forming a routine of
sacrifice. First the Day, bringing duty and privilege, is to have its
morning burnt offering of a yearling lamb, by which the Divine blessing
is invoked on the labour and life of the whole people. A meal offering
of flour and oil and a drink offering of "strong drink"--that is, not
of water or milk, but wine--are to accompany the sacrifice. Again
in the evening, as a token of gratitude for the mercies of the day,
similar oblations are to be presented. Of this offering the note is
made: "It is a continual burnt offering, which was ordained in Sinai
for a sweet savour, a sacrifice made by fire unto the Lord."

In these sacrifices the whole of time, measured out by the
alternation of light and darkness, was acknowledged to be God's;
through the priesthood the nation declared His right to each day,
confessed obligation to Him for the gift of it. The burnt offering
implied complete renunciation of what was represented. No part of
the animal was kept for use, either by the worshipper or the priest.
The smoke ascending to heaven dissipated the entire substance of
the oblation, signifying that the whole use or enjoyment of it was
consecrated to God. In the way of impressing the idea of obligation
to Jehovah for the gifts of time and life the daily sacrifices
were valuable; yet they were suggestive rather than sufficient.
The Israelites throughout the land knew that these oblations were
made at the altar, and those who were pious might at the times
appointed offer each his own thanksgivings to God. But the individual
expression of gratitude was left to the religious sense, and that
must often have failed. At a distance from the sanctuary, where
the ascending smoke could not be seen, men might forget; or again,
knowing that the priests would not forget, they might imagine their
own part to be done when offering was made for the whole people. The
duty was, however, represented and kept before the minds of all.

In the Psalms and elsewhere we find traces of a worship which had
its source in the daily sacrifice. The author of Psalm cxli., for
example, addresses Jehovah:

      "Give ear unto my voice when I cry unto Thee.
       Let my prayer be set forth as incense before Thee;
       The lifting up of my hands as the evening sacrifice."

Less clearly in the fifth, the fifty-ninth, and the eighty-eighth
psalms, the morning prayer appears to be connected with the morning
sacrifice:

      "O Lord, in the morning shalt Thou hear my voice;
       In the morning will I order my prayer unto Thee, and will keep
            watch" (Psalm v. 3).

The pious Hebrew might naturally choose the morning and the evening
as his times of special approach to the throne of Divine grace, as
every believer still feels it his duty and privilege to begin and
close the day with prayer. The appropriateness of dawn and sunset
might determine both the hour of sacrifice and the hour of private
worship. Yet the ordinance of the daily oblations set an example to
those who would otherwise have been careless in expressing gratitude.
And earnestly religious persons learned to find more frequent
opportunities. Daniel in Babylon is seen at the window open towards
Jerusalem, kneeling upon his knees three times a day, praying and
giving thanks to God. The author of Psalm cxix. says:

      "Seven times a day do I praise Thee,
       Because of Thy righteous judgments."

The grateful remembrance of God and confession of His right to the
whole of life were thus made a rule with which no other engagements
were allowed to interfere. It is by facts like these the power of
religion over the Hebrews in their best time is explained.

       *       *       *       *       *

We pass now to the Sabbath and the sacrifices by which it was
distinguished. Here the number seven which recurs so frequently
in the statutes of the sacred year appears for the first time.
Connection has been found between the ordinances of Israel and of
Chaldea in the observance of the seventh day as well as at many other
points. According to Mr. Sayce, the origin of the Sabbath went back
to pre-Semitic days, and the very name was of Babylonian origin.
"In the cuneiform tablets the _sabbatu_ is described as a 'day of
rest for the soul.'... The Sabbath was also known, at all events in
Accadian times, as a _dies nefastus_, a day on which certain work
was forbidden to be done; and an old list of Babylonian festivals
and fast-days tells us that on the seventh, fourteenth, nineteenth,
twenty-first, and twenty-eighth days of each month the Sabbath rest
had to be observed. The king himself, it is stated, 'must not eat
flesh that has been cooked over the coals or in the smoke, he must
not change the garments of his body, white robes he must not wear,
sacrifices he may not offer, in a chariot he must not ride.'" The
soothsayer was forbidden on that day "to mutter in a secret place."
In this observance of a seventh day of rest, specially sacred, for
the good of the soul, ancient Accadians and Babylonians prepared the
way for the Sabbath of the Mosaic law.

But while the days of the Chaldean week were devoted each to a
separate divinity, and the seventh day had its meaning in relation
to polytheism, the whole of time, every day alike, and the Sabbaths
with greater strictness than the others, were, in Israel's law,
consecrated to Jehovah. This difference also deserves to be noticed,
that, while the Chaldean seventh days were counted from each new
moon, in the Hebrew year there was no such astronomical date for
reckoning them. Throughout the year, as with us, each seventh day
was a day of rest. While we find traces of old religious custom
and observance that mingled with those of Judaism and cannot but
recognise the highly humane, almost spiritual character those old
institutions often had, the superiority of the religion of the One
Living and True God clearly proves itself to us. Moses, and those
who followed him, felt no need of rejecting an idea they met with in
the ancient beliefs of Chaldea, for they had the Divine light and
wisdom by which the earthly and evil could be separated from the
kernel of good. And may we not say that it was well to maintain the
continuity of observance so far as thoughts and customs of the far
past could be woven into the worship of Jehovah's flock? Neither was
Israel nor is any people to pretend to entire separation from the
past. No act of choice or process of development can effect it. Nor
would the severance, if it were made, be for the good of men. Beyond
the errors and absurdities of human belief, beyond the perversions of
truth due to sin, there lie historical and constitutional origins.
The Sabbaths, the sacrifices, and the prayers of ancient Chaldea had
their source in demands of God and needs of the human soul, which
not only entered into Judaism, but survive still, proving themselves
inseparable from our thought and life.

The special oblations to be presented on the Sabbath were added to
those of the other days of the week. Two lambs of the first year in
the morning and two in the evening were to be offered with their
appropriate meal and drink offerings. It may be noted that in Ezekiel
where the Sabbath ordinances are detailed the sacrifices are more
numerous. After declaring that the eastern gate of the inner court
of the temple, which is to be shut on the six working days, shall be
opened on the Sabbath and in the day of the new moon, the prophet
goes on to say that the prince, as representing the people, shall
offer unto the Lord in the Sabbath day six lambs without blemish and
a ram without blemish. In the legislation of Numbers, however, the
higher consecration of the Sabbath as compared with the other days
of the week did not require so great a difference as Ezekiel saw it
needful to make. And, indeed, the law of Sabbath observance assumes
in Ezekiel an importance on various grounds which passes beyond the
high distinction given it in the Pentateuch. Again and again in
chapter xx. the prophet declares that one of the great sins of which
the Israelites were guilty in the wilderness was that of polluting
the Sabbath which God had given to be a sign between Himself and
them. The keeping holy of the seventh day had become one of the chief
safeguards of religion, and for this reason Ezekiel was moved to
prescribe additional sacrifices for that day.

We find as we go on that the week of seven days, ended by the recurring
day of rest, is an element in the regulations for all the great feasts.
Unleavened bread was to be eaten for seven days. Seven weeks were then
to be counted to the day of the firstfruits and the feast of weeks.
The feast of tabernacles, again, ran for seven days and ended on the
eighth with a solemn assembly. The whole ritual was in this way made to
emphasise the division of time based on the fourth commandment.

       *       *       *       *       *

The New Moon ritual consecrating the months was more elaborate. On
the day when the new moon was first seen, or should by computation
be seen, besides the continual burnt offering two young bullocks,
one ram, and seven lambs of the first year, with meal and drink
offerings, were to be presented. These animals were to be wholly
offered by fire. In addition, a sin offering was to be made, a kid
of the goats. Why this guilt sacrifice was introduced at the new
moon service is not clear. Keil explains that "in consideration of
the sins which had been committed in the course of the past month,
and had remained without expiation," the sin offering was needed.
But this might be said of the week in its degree, as well as of
the month. It is certain that the opening of each month was kept in
other ways than the legislation of the Pentateuch seems to require.
In Numbers it is prescribed that the silver trumpets shall be blown
over the new moon sacrifices for a memorial before God, and this
must have given the observances a festival air. Then we learn from
1 Sam. xx. that when Saul was king a family feast was observed in
his house on the first day of the month, and that this day also,
in some particular month, was generally chosen by a family for the
yearly sacrifice to which all were expected to gather (1 Sam. xx. 5,
6). These facts and the festal opening of Psalm lxxxi., in which the
timbrel, harp, and psaltery, and joyful singing in praise of God, are
associated with the new moon trumpet, imply that for some reason the
occasion was held to be important. Amos (viii. 5) implies further
that on the day of new moon trade was suspended; and in the time of
Elisha it seems to have been common for those who wished to consult
a prophet to choose either the Sabbath or the day of new moon for
enquiring of him (2 Kings iv. 23). There can be little doubt that the
day was one of religious activity and joy, and possibly the offering
of the kid for expiation was intended to counteract the freedom the
more thoughtless might permit themselves.

There are good reasons for believing that in pre-Mosaic times the day
of new moon was celebrated by the Israelites and all kindred peoples,
as it is still among certain heathen races. Originally a nature
festival, it was consecrated to Jehovah by the legislation before
us, and gradually became of account as the occasion of domestic
gatherings and rejoicings. But its religious significance lay chiefly
in the dedication to God of the month that had begun and expiation
of guilt contracted during that which had closed.

       *       *       *       *       *

We come now to the great annual festivals. These were arranged in two
groups, which may be classed as vernal and autumnal, the one group
belonging to the first and third months, the other to the seventh.
They divided the year into two portions, the intervals between them
being the time of great heat and the time of rain and storm. The
month Abib, with which the year began, corresponded generally to our
April; but its opening, depending on the new moon, might be earlier
or later. One of the ceremonies of the festival season of this month
was the presentation, on the sixteenth day, of the first sheaf of
harvest; and seven weeks afterwards, at Pentecost, cakes made from
the first dough were offered. The explanation of what may appear to
be autumnal offerings in spring is to be found in the early ripening
of corn throughout Palestine. The cereals were all reaped during
the interval between Passover and Pentecost. The autumnal festival
celebrated the gathering in of the vintage and fruits.

The Passover, the first great feast, a sacrament rather, is merely
mentioned in this portion of Numbers. It was chiefly a domestic
celebration--not priestly--and had a most impressive significance,
of which the eating of the lamb with bitter herbs was the symbol.
The day after it, the "feast of unleavened bread" began. For a whole
week leaven was to be abjured. On the first day of the feast there
was to be a holy convocation, and no servile work was to be done. The
closing day likewise was to be one of holy convocation. On each of
the seven days the offerings were to be two young bullocks, one ram,
and seven yearling he-lambs, with their meal and drink offerings,
and for sin one he-goat to make atonement.

The week of this festival, commencing with the paschal sacrament, was
made to bear peculiarly on the national life, first by the command
that all leaven should be rigidly kept out of the houses. As the
ceremonial law assumed more importance with the growth of Pharisaism,
this cleansing was sought quite fanatically. Any crumb of common bread
was reckoned an accursed thing which might deprive the observance of
the feast of its good effect. But even in the time of less scrupulous
legalism the effort to extirpate leaven from the houses had its
singular effect on the people. It was one of the many causes which
made Jewish religion intense. Then the daily sacrificial routine, and
especially the holy convocations of the first and seventh days, were
profoundly solemnising. We may picture thus the ceremonies and worship
of these great days of the feast. The people, gathered from all parts
of the land, crowded the outer court of the sanctuary. The priests and
Levites stood ready around the altar. With solemn chanting the animals
were brought from some place behind the temple where they had been
carefully examined so that no blemish might impair the sacrifice. Then
they were slain one by one, and prepared, the fire on the great altar
blazing more and more brightly in readiness for the holocaust, while
the blood flowed away in a red stream, staining the hands and garments
of those who officiated. First the two bullocks, then the ram, then the
lambs were one after another placed on the flames, each with incense
and part of the meal offering. The sin offering followed. Some of the
blood of the he-goat was taken by the priest and sprinkled on the inner
altar, on the veil of the Holy of Holies, and on the horns of the
great altar, around which the rest was poured. The fat of the animal,
including certain of the internal parts, was thrown on the fire; and
this portion of the observances ended with the pouring out of the last
drink offering before the Lord. Then a chorus of praise was lifted up,
the people throwing themselves on the ground and praying in a low,
earnest monotone.

To this followed in the later times singing of chants and psalms, led
by the chorus of Levites, addresses to the people, and shorter or
longer prayers to which the worshippers responded. The officiating
priest, standing beside the great altar in view of all, now pronounced
the appointed blessing on the people. But his task was still not
complete. He went into the sanctuary, and, having by his entrance and
safe return from the holy place shown that the sacrifice had been
accepted, he spoke to the assembly a few words of simple and sublime
import. Finally, with repeated blessing, he gave the dismissal. On one
or both of these occasions the form of benediction used was that which
we have found preserved in the sixth chapter of this book.[13]

It is evident that celebrations like these, into which, as time went
on, the mass of worshippers entered with increased fervour, gave
the feast of unleavened bread an extraordinary importance in the
national life. The young Hebrew looked forward to it with the keenest
expectancy, and was not disappointed. So long as faith remained, and
especially in crises of the history of Israel, the earnestness that
was developed carried every soul along. And now that the Israelites
bewail the loss of temple and country, reckoning themselves a martyred
people, this feast and the more solemn day of atonement nerve them to
endurance and reassure them of their hope. They are separate still.
They are Jehovah's people still. The covenant remains. The Messiah will
come and bring them new life and power. So they vehemently cling to the
past and dream of a future that shall never be.

       *       *       *       *       *

"The day of the firstfruits" was, according to Lev. xxiii. 15, the
fiftieth day from the morrow after the passover sabbath. The special
harvest offering of this "feast of weeks" is thus enjoined: "Ye shall
bring out of your habitations two wave loaves of two tenth parts
of an ephah; they shall be of fine flour, they shall be baken with
leaven, for firstfruits unto the Lord" (Lev. xxiii. 17). According
to Leviticus one bullock, two rams, and seven lambs; according to
Numbers two bullocks, one ram, and seven lambs, were to be sacrificed
as whole offerings; the difference being apparently that of varying
usage at an earlier and later time. The sin offering of the he-goat
followed the burnt offerings. The day of the feast was one of holy
convocation; and it has peculiar interest for us as the day on which
the pentecostal effusion of the Spirit came on the gathering of
Christians in the upper room at Jerusalem. The joyous character of
this festival was signified by the use of leaven in the cakes or
loaves that were presented as firstfruits. The people rejoiced in the
blessing of another harvest, the fulfilment once more by Jehovah of
His promise to supply the needs of His flock. It will be seen that
in every case the sin offering prescribed is a single he-goat. This
particular sacrifice was distinguished from the whole offerings, the
thank offerings, and the peace offerings, which were not limited in
number. "It must stand," says Ewald, "in perfect isolation, as though
in the midst of sad solitude and desolation, with nothing similar or
comparable by its side." Why a he-goat was invariably ordered for this
expiatory sacrifice it is difficult to say. And the question is not
made more easy by the peculiar rite of the great day of atonement, when
besides the goat of the sin offering for Jehovah another was devoted to
"Azazel." Perhaps the choice of this animal implied its fitness in some
way to represent transgression, wilfulness, and rebellion. The he-goat,
more wild and rough than any other of the flock, seemed to belong to
the desert and to the spirit of evil.

       *       *       *       *       *

From the festivals of spring we now pass to those of autumn, the first
of which coincided with the New Moon of the seventh month. This was to
be a day of holy convocation, on which no servile work should be done,
and it was marked by a special blowing of trumpets over the sacrifices.
From other passages it would appear that the trumpets were used on
the occasion of every new moon; and there must have been a longer and
more elaborate service of festival music to distinguish the seventh.
The offerings prescribed for it were numerous. Those enjoined for the
opening of the other months were two bullocks, one ram, seven he-lambs
and the he-goat of the sin offering. To these were now added one
bullock, one ram, and seven he-lambs. Altogether, including the daily
sacrifices which were never omitted, twenty-two animals were offered;
and with each sacrifice, except the he-goat, fine flour mingled with
oil and a drink offering of wine had to be presented.

There seems no reason to doubt that the seventh month was opened in
this impressive way because of the great festivals ordained to be
held in the course of it. The labour of the year was practically
over, and more than any other the month was given up to festivity
associated with religion. It was the seventh or sabbath month,
forming the "exalted summit of the year, for which all preceding
festivals prepared the way, and after which everything quietly came
down to the ordinary course of life." The trumpets blown in joyful
peals over the sacrifices, the offering of which must have gone on
for many hours, inspired the assembly with gladness, and signified
the gratitude and hope of the nation.

But the joy of the seventh month thus begun did not go on without
interruption. The tenth day was one of special solemnity and serious
thought. It was the great day of confession, for on it, in the
holy convocation, the people were to "afflict their souls." The
transgressions and failures of the year were to be acknowledged with
sorrow. From the evening of the ninth day to the evening of the tenth
there was to be a rigid fast--the one fast which the law ordained.
Before the full gladness of Jehovah's favour can be realised by
Israel all those sins of neglect and forgetfulness which have been
accumulating for twelve months must be confessed, bewailed, and taken
away. There are those who have become unclean without being aware
of their defilement; those who have unwittingly broken the Sabbath
law; those who have for some reason been unable to keep the passover,
or who have kept it imperfectly; others again have failed to render
tithes of all the produce of their land according to the law; and
priests and Levites called to a high consecration have come short
of their duty. With such defects and sins of error the nation is to
charge itself, each individual acknowledging his own faults. Unless
this is done a shadow must lie on the life of the people; they cannot
enjoy the light of the countenance of God.

For this day the whole offerings are, one young bullock, one ram,
seven he-lambs; and there is this peculiarity, that, besides a
he-goat for a sin offering, there is to be provided another he-goat,
"for atonement." Maimonides says that the second he-goat is not that
"for Azazel," but the fellow of it, the one on which the lot had
fallen "for Jehovah." Leviticus again informs us that Aaron was to
sacrifice a bullock as a sin offering for himself and his house. And
it was the blood of this bullock and of the second he-goat he was
to take and sprinkle on the ark and before the mercy-seat. Further,
it is prescribed that the bodies of these animals are to be carried
forth without the camp and wholly burned--as if the sin clinging to
them had made them unfit for use in any way.

The great atonement thus made, the reaction of joy set in. Nothing in
Jewish worship exceeded the solemnity of the fast, and in contrast
with that the gladness of the forgiven multitude. Another crisis
was past, another year of Jehovah's favour had begun. Those who had
been prostrate in sorrow and fear rose up to sing their hallelujahs.
"The deep seriousness of the Day of Atonement," says Delitzsch, "was
transformed on the evening of the same day into lighthearted merriment.
The observance in the temple was accomplished in a significant drama
which was fascinating from beginning to end. When the high priest came
forth from the Most Holy Place, after the performance of his functions
there, this was for the people a consolatory, gladsome sight, for
which poetry can find no adequate words: 'Like the peace-proclaiming
arch in painted clouds; like the morning star, when he arises from the
eastern twilight; like the sun, when opening his bud, he unfolds in
roseate hue.' When the solemnity was over, the high priest was escorted
with a guard of honour to his dwelling in the city, where a banquet
awaited his more immediate friends." The young people repaired to the
vineyards, the maidens arrayed in simple white, and the day was closed
with song and dancing.[14]

This description reminds us of the mingling of elements in the old
Scottish fast-days, closing as they did with a simple entertainment
in the manse.

       *       *       *       *       *

The feast of tabernacles continued the gladness of the ransomed
people. It began on the fifteenth day of the seventh month, with
a holy convocation and a holocaust of no fewer than twenty-nine
animals, in addition to the daily sacrifice, and a he-goat for a sin
offering. The number of bullocks, which was thirteen on this opening
day of the feast, was reduced by one each day till on the seventh day
seven bullocks were sacrificed. But two rams and fourteen he-lambs
were offered each day of the feast, and the he-goat for expiation,
besides the continual burnt offering. The celebration ended, so far
as sacrifices were concerned, on the eighth day with a special burnt
offering of one bullock, one ram, and seven he-lambs, returning thus
to the number appointed for New Moon.

It will be noticed that on the closing day there was to be a "solemn
assembly." It was "the great day of the feast" (John vii. 37). The
people who during the week had lived in the booths or arbours which
they had made, now dismantled them and went on pilgrimage to the
sanctuary. The opening of the festival came to be of a striking
kind. "One could see," says Professor Franz Delitzsch, "even before
the dawn of the first day of the feast, if this was not a Sabbath,
a joyous throng pouring forth from the Jaffa Gate at Jerusalem. The
verdure of the orchards, refreshed with the first showers of the early
rain, is hailed by the people with shouts of joy as they scatter on
either side of the bridge which crosses the brook fringed with tall
poplar-osiers, some in order with their own hands to pluck branches for
the festal display, others to look at the men who have been honoured
with the commission to fetch from Kolonia the festal leafy adornment
of the altar. They seek out right long and goodly branches of these
poplar-osiers, and cut them off, and then the reunited host returns in
procession, with exultant shouts and singing and jesting, to Jerusalem,
as far as the Temple hill, where the great branches of poplar-osier are
received by the priests and set upright around the sides of the altar,
so that they bend over it with their tips. Priestly trumpet-clang
resounded during this decoration of the altar with foliage, and they
went on that feast day once, on the seventh day seven times, around
the altar with willow branches, or the festive posy entwined of a palm
branch and branches of myrtles and willows, amidst the usual festive
shouts of Hosanna; exclaiming after the completed encircling, 'Beauty
becomes thee, O Altar! Beauty becomes thee, O Altar!'" So, in later
times, the festival began and was sustained, each worshipper carrying
boughs and fruit of the citron and other trees. But the eighth day
brought all this to a close. The huts were taken down, the worshippers
sought the house of God for prayer and thanksgiving. The reading of the
Law which had been going on day by day concluded; and the sin offering
fitly ended the season of joy with expiation of the guilt of the people
in their holy things.

       *       *       *       *       *

The series of sacrifices appointed for days and weeks and months and
years required a large number of animals and no small liberality.
They did not, however, represent more than a small proportion of
the offerings which were brought to the central sanctuary. Besides,
there were those connected with vows, the free-will offerings, meal
offerings, drink offerings, and peace offerings (xxix. 39). And
taking all together it will be seen that the pastoral wealth of the
people was largely claimed. The explanation lies partly in this, that
among the Israelites, as among all races, "the things sacrificed were
of the same kind as those the worshippers desired to obtain from
God." The sin offering, however, had quite a different significance.
In this the sprinkling of the warm blood, representing the life blood
of the worshipper, carried thought into a range of sacred mystery
in which the awful claim of God on men was darkly realised. Here
sacrifice became a sacrament binding the worshippers by the most
solemn symbol imaginable--a vital symbol--to fidelity in the service
of Jehovah. Their faith and devotion expressed in the sacrifice
secured for them the Divine grace on which their well-being depended,
the blood-bought pardon that redeemed the soul. Among the Israelites
alone was expiation by blood made fully significant as the centre of
the whole system of worship.[15]


                           2. THE LAW OF VOWS

                              NUMBERS xxx

The general command regarding vows is that whosoever binds himself by
one, or takes an oath in regard to any promise, must at all hazards
keep his word. A man is allowed to judge for himself in vowing and
undertaking by oath, but he is to have the consequences in view, and
especially keep in mind that God is his witness. The matter scarcely
admitted of any other legislation, and neither here nor elsewhere is
any attempt made to lay penalties on those who broke their vows. To
use the Divine Name in an oath which was afterwards falsified brought
a man under the condemnation of the third commandment, a spiritual
doom. But the authorities could not give it effect. The transgressor
was left to the judgment of God.

With regard to vows and oaths the sophistry of the Jews and their
rabbis led them so far astray that our Lord had to lay down new
rules for the guidance of His followers. No doubt cases arose in
which it was exceedingly difficult to decide. One might vow with
good intention and find himself utterly unable to keep his promise,
or might find that to keep it would involve unforeseen injury to
others. But apart from circumstances of this sort there came to be
such a net-work of half-legalised evasions, and so many unseemly
discussions, that the purpose of the law was destroyed. Absolution
from vows was claimed as a prerogative by some rabbis; against this,
others protested. One would say that if a man vowed by Jerusalem or
by the Law he had said nothing; but if he vowed by what is written
in the Law, his words stood. The "wise men" declared four kinds of
vows not binding--incentive vows, as when a buyer vows that he will
not give more than a certain price in order to induce the seller to
take less; meaningless vows; thoughtless and compulsory vows. In such
ways the practice was reduced to ignominy. It even came to this,
that if a man wished to neutralise all the vows he might make in the
course of a year he had only to say at the beginning of it, on the
eve of the Day of Atonement, "Let every vow which I shall make be of
none effect," and he would be absolved. This immoral tangle was cut
through by the clear judgment of Christ: "Ye have heard that it was
said to them of old time, Thou shalt not forswear thyself, but shalt
perform unto the Lord thine oaths: but I say unto you, Swear not at
all; neither by the heaven, for it is the throne of God; nor by the
earth, for it is the footstool of His feet; nor by Jerusalem, for it
is the city of the great King. Neither shalt thou swear by thy head,
for thou canst not make one hair white or black. But let your speech
be, Yea, yea; Nay, nay: and whatsoever is more than these is of the
evil one." In ordinary conversation and dealings Christ will have no
vows and oaths. Let men promise and perform, declare and stand to
their word. He lifts even ordinary life to a higher plane.

With regard to women's vows, four cases are made the subject of
enactment. First, there is the case of a young woman living in her
father's house, under his authority. If she vow unto the Lord, and bind
herself by a bond in the hearing of her father and he do not forbid,
her vow shall stand. It may involve expense to the father, or put him
and the family to inconvenience, but by silence he has allowed himself
to be bound. On the other hand, if he interpose and forbid the vow, the
daughter is released. The second case is that of a woman who at the
time of marriage is under a vow; and this is decided in the same way.
Her betrothed husband's silence, if he hears the promise, sanctions it;
his refusal to allow it gives discharge. The third instance is that
of a widow or a divorced woman, who must perform all she has solemnly
engaged to do. The last case is that of the married woman in her
husband's house, concerning whom it is decreed: "Every vow and every
binding oath to afflict the soul, her husband may establish it, or her
husband may make it void.... If he shall make them null and void after
he hath heard them, then he shall bear her iniquity."

These regulations establish the headship of the father and the
husband in regard to matters which belong to religion. And the
significance of them lies in this, that no intrusion of the priest
is permitted. If the "Priests' Code" had been intended to set
up a hierocracy, these vows would have given the opportunity of
introducing priestly influence into family life. The provisions
appear to be designed for the very purpose of disallowing this. It
was seen that in the ardour of religious zeal women were disposed
to make large promises, dedicating their means, their children, or
perhaps their own lives to special service in connection with the
sanctuary. But the father or husband was the family head and the
judge. No countenance whatever is given to any official interference.

It would have been well if the wisdom of this law had ruled the
Church, preventing ecclesiastical dominance in family affairs.
The promises, the threats of a domineering Church have in many
cases introduced discord between daughters and parents, wives and
husbands. The amenability of women to religious motives has been
taken advantage of, always indeed with a plausible reason,--the
desire to save them from the world,--but far too often, really,
for political-ecclesiastical ends, or even from the base motive of
revenge. Ecclesiastics have found the opportunity of enriching the
Church or themselves, or, under cover of confession, have become
aware of secrets that placed families at their mercy. No practice
followed under the shield of religion and in its name deserves
stronger reprobation. The Church should, by every means in its
power, purify and uphold family life. To undermine the unity of
families by laying obligations on women, or obtaining promises apart
from the knowledge of those to whom they are bound in the closest
relationship, is an abuse of privilege. And the whole custom of
auricular confession comes under the charge. It may occasionally or
frequently be used with good intention, and lonely women without
trusted advisers among their kindred may see no other resource in
times of peculiar difficulty and trial. But the submission that forms
part of it is debasing, and the secrecy gives priesthood a power that
should belong to no body of men in dealing with the souls of their
fellow-creatures, and fellow-sinners. At the very best, confession to
a priest is a weak expedient.

FOOTNOTES:

[13] See Ewald's "Antiquities," p. 131, Solly's translation.

[14] _Expositor_, 3rd Series, vol. iv., p. 88.

[15] Ewald's "Antiquities," p. 40.




                                  XXIV

                          _WAR AND SETTLEMENT_


                         1. THE WAR WITH MIDIAN

                              NUMBERS xxxi

The command to vex and smite the Midianites (xxv. 16) has already
been considered. Israel had not the spiritual power which would have
justified any attempt to convert that people. Degrading idolatry was to
be held in abhorrence, and those who clung to it suppressed. Now the
time comes for an exterminating war. While hordes of Bedawin occupy
the hills and the neighbouring desert, there can be no security either
for morals, property, or life. Balaam is among them plotting against
Israel; and his restless energy, we may suppose, precipitates the
conflict. Moses conveys the command of God that the attack on Midian
shall be immediately made, and himself directs the campaign.

The details of the enterprise are given somewhat fully. A thousand
fighting men are called from each tribe. The religious purpose of
the war is signified by the presence in the host of Phinehas, whose
zeal has given him a name among the warriors. He is allowed to carry
with him the "vessels of the sanctuary"; and the silver trumpets are
to be sounded on the march and in the attack. The Midianitish clan
apparently gives way at once before the Hebrews, and either makes no
stand or is totally defeated in a single battle. All the men are
put to the sword, including Balaam and five chiefs, whose names are
preserved. The women and children are taken; the whole of the cattle
and goods become the prey of the victors; the cities and encampments
are burned with fire. On the return of the army with the large band
of captives, Moses is greatly displeased. He demands of the officers
why the women have been spared,--the very women who caused the
children of Israel to trespass against the Lord. Then he orders all
above a certain age, and the male children, to be put to death. The
young girls alone are to be kept alive.

The purification of those who have been engaged in the war is next
commanded. For seven days the army must remain outside the camp.
Those who have touched any dead body and all the captives are to be
ceremonially cleansed on the third and seventh days. Every article of
raiment, everything made of skins and goats' hair, and all woollen
articles, are to be purified by means of the water of expiation.
Whatever is made of metal is to be passed through the fire.

Details of the quantity and division of the prey, and the voluntary
oblations made as an "atonement for their souls" by the officers
and soldiers out of their booty, occupy the rest of the chapter.
The numbers of oxen, sheep, and asses are great--six hundred and
seventy-five thousand sheep, seventy-two thousand beeves, sixty-one
thousand asses. No mention is made of horses or camels. The girls saved
alive are thirty-two thousand. The army takes one half, and those who
remained in the camp receive the other. But of the soldiers' portion,
one in five hundred both of the persons and of the animals is given to
the priests, and of the people's portion one in fifty to the Levites.
The jewels of gold, ankle-chains, bracelets, signet-rings, earrings
and armlets offered by the men of war as their "atonement," not one of
them having fallen in the battle, amount in weight to sixteen thousand
seven hundred and fifty shekels, the value of which may be estimated at
some thirty thousand of our pounds. The gold is brought into the tent
of meeting for a memorial before the Lord.

Now here we have to deal with an accumulation of statements, every
one of which raises some question or other. The war of national and
moral antipathy is itself easily understood. But the slaughter of so
many in battle and so many others in cold blood, the statement that
not a single Israelite fell, the number and kinds of the animals
captured, the order given by Moses to put all the women to death, the
quantity of gold taken, of which the offering appears only to have
been a part--all of these points have been criticised in a more or
less incredulous spirit. In apology it has been said, with regard
to the slaughter of the women, that when brought as captives by the
soldiers they could not be received into the camp, and there was
only this way of dealing with them, unless indeed they had been sent
back to their ruined encampments, where they would have slowly died.
Again, it has been explained that the Midianites were so debased and
enfeebled as to have no power to withstand the onset of the Hebrews.
The droves of oxen, sheep, and asses are held to be not greater than
a wealthy nomadic clan, numbering perhaps two hundred thousand, would
be likely to own; and the quantity of gold is likewise accounted for
by the well-known fact that among Orientals the wealth represented by
precious metals is fashioned into ornaments for the women.

In detail the difficulties may thus be partly overcome; yet the
whole account remains so singular, both in its spirit and incidents,
that Wellhausen has roundly declared it to be fictitious, and others
have had no resource but to fall back, even for the slaughter of the
women, on the Divine command. It is true there were other peoples,
the Moabites, for instance, as idolatrous, and almost as degraded.
But a terror of Jehovah's name had to be created for the moral good
of the whole region, and the Midianites, it is said, who had so
grossly assailed the purity of Israel, were fitly selected for Divine
chastisement. The opinion that the whole account is an invention of
the "Priests' Code" may be at once dismissed. The ideas of national
purity that prevailed after the exile and are insisted upon in the
books of Ezra and Nehemiah would not have countenanced the dedication
of any spared from the slaughter, even young girls, as a tribute to
Jehovah. The attack and the issue of it were, no doubt, recorded in
the ancient documents of which the compilers of the Book of Numbers
made use. And the fact must be held to stand, that there was a
grim slaughter relentlessly carried out at the command of Moses in
accordance with the moral and theocratic ideas that ruled his mind.

But it remains doubtful whether the numbers can be trusted, even
although they appear to be in the substance of the narrative. The
disproportion is enormous between the twelve thousand Israelites sent
against Midian and the number of men who, if we accept the figures
given, must have fallen without striking one effective blow for
their lives. Of these there would have been some forty thousand at
least. Assuming that somehow the numbers are exaggerated, we find
the story a good deal cleared. It was entirely in harmony with the
spirit of the age that a war _à outrance_ should have been commanded
in the circumstances. If, then, an adequate force of Hebrews marched
against the Midianites and took them at unawares, perhaps by night,
or when they were engaged in some idolatrous orgy, their defeat and
slaughter would be comparatively easy. The Hebrews with Phinehas
among them were, we may believe, filled with patriotic and religious
ardour, assured that they were commissioned to execute Divine justice
and must not shrink from any work that lay in their way, however
dreadful. Does the thing they did still seem incredible? Perhaps the
recollection of what took place after the Indian Mutiny, when Great
Britain was in the same temper, may throw light upon the question.
The soldiers then, bent on punishing the cruelty and lust of the
rebels, partly in patriotism, partly in revenge, set mercy altogether
aside. If we had the whole history of the war with Midian, instead
of the mere outlines preserved in Numbers, we might find that, apart
from figures, the statements are by no means over-coloured. Moses had
the entire responsibility of ordering the women to be put to death.
When he saw the train of female captives, some of them possibly
using their arts of blandishment not without success, he might well
be afraid that the very end for which the war had been undertaken
was to be frustrated. He was a man who did not scruple to shed blood
when the law of God and the purity of morals and religion seemed to
be endangered. He knew Jehovah to be gracious--gracious to those who
loved Him and kept His commandments. But was He not also a jealous
God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the
third and fourth generations of them that hated Him? It was this God
Moses sought to serve when in the heat of his indignation, and not
without reason, he gave the terrible order.

The appropriation of some of the captive girls to the priests and
Levites as "Jehovah's tribute," the offering by the soldiers of
part of their booty as an "atonement" for their souls, the presence
of Phinehas with the "vessels of the sanctuary," and the sacred
trumpets in the ranks--these manifestly belong to the time to which
the history refers. And it may be said in closing that circumstances
might be well known to Moses on account of which the attack had to
be made promptly and the dispersion of the Midianites had to be
complete. We cannot tell what Balaam may have been plotting; but
we may be pretty sure there was nothing too base for him to scheme
and the Midianites to carry into effect. They knew themselves to be
under suspicion, perhaps in danger. With what craft and vehemence the
Bedawin can act we are well aware. Life even yet is of no account
among them. Another day, perhaps, and the ark might have been carried
off or Moses put to death in his tent. But the nature of the wrong
done to Israel is a sufficient explanation of the war. And we can
also see that the Hebrews themselves had a lesson in moral severity
when their soldiers went forth to the massacre and returned red with
blood. They learned that the sin of Midian was abominable in the
sight of God and should be abominable in theirs. They were taught,
whether they received the teaching or not, that they were to be
enemies for ever of those who practised idolatry so vile. A deep gulf
was made between them and all who sympathised with the worship and
customs of the tribe they destroyed.

And the whole circumstances, remote as they are from our own time,
may bring home even to Christians the duty of moral decision and
relentless war against the vices and lusts with which too many are
inclined to make terms. We wrestle not against flesh and blood,
but against the "wiles of error," the "lusts of deceit," against
"fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, enmities, strife,
jealousies, wraths, factions, divisions, heresies, envyings,
drunkenness, revellings and such like,"--the works of the flesh.
These Midianites are with us, would draw our hearts away from
religion and destroy our souls. Not only are we to assail the grosser
forms of sin and exterminate them, but we are with equal severity to
strike down the fair-seeming vices that come with blandishment and
insidious appeal. This is our holy war. The old form of it required
the suppression or extermination of those identified with vice, men
and women, all in whom the impurity was rooted. Young girls alone
could be spared, whose character might still be shaped by a higher
morality. Even yet, to a certain extent, that way of dealing with
evil has to be followed. We imprison felons and put murderers to
death; but the new power that has come with Christianity enables us
to deal with many transgressors as capable of reformation and a new
life. And this power is far as yet from being fully developed.

It is the fault of our age to be on one side too lenient, on another
wanting in patience, charity, and hope. Excuses are found for sin
on the ground that it is useless to fight against nature, that we
must not be hypocritical nor puritanical. Temptations that come with
mincing gait, cajolery and smiles, are allowed to disport themselves
untouched. Why, it is asked, should life be made sombre? A stern
religion that would banish gaiety is declared to be no friend of the
race. Under cover of art--pictorial, dramatic, literary--the customs
of Midian are not only admitted but allowed to have authority. And
religion even is invoked. Are not all things pure to the pure? Should
not life be as free and joyous as the Maker clearly intends in giving
us the capacity for those gratifications to which art of every kind
ministers? Is not full freedom indispensable to the highest religion?
Ought not genius, in every department, to have complete liberty in
guiding and developing the race?

Without hypocrisy, without banishing the sunshine of life or denying
the freedom which is necessary to progress and vigour, we are to be
jealous for morality, severe against all that threatens it. And here
our age is impatient of direction. The tendency is to a civilisation
without morality, that is, a new barbarism. The strenuous mind of
the old theocratic leaders is required anew, with a difference. Life
and thought have so far advanced under Christianity that liberty is
good in things which once had to be sternly reprobated; but only the
same guidance will carry us higher. To those who lead in arts and
literature the appeal has to be made in the name of God and men to
regard the fitness of things. The old ideas of Puritanism are not
to be the standard? True. Neither are the tastes of Greece nor the
manners of Pompeii. Every artist must, it appears, be his own censor.
Let each, then, use his right under a sense of responsibility to
the God who would have all to be pure and free. There are pictures
exhibited, and poems sent out from the press, and novels published,
which, for all the skill and charm that are in them, ought to have
been cast into the fire. In private life, too, the Midianitish talk,
the jest, the anecdote, the innuendo, all but indecent, the hint, the
laugh that breaks down the barriers of integrity and sobriety, show
the license of a barbarism which is bent on conquest. Every Christian
is called to wage against these immoralities an exterminating war.

On the other hand, charity and patience are needed. It is difficult
to forbear with those who seem to find their pleasure in what is
evil, more difficult to continue the efforts necessary to win them to
religion, purity, and honour. We feel it a hard task to track our own
unholy desires to their retreats and slay them there. Proteus-like
they elude us; when we think they have been destroyed, a passing word
or thought revives them. And if in the task of our own purification
we need long patience, it is not wonderful that even more should be
required in the attempt to set others free from their besetting sins.
Much of our philanthropy, again, is useless because we try to cover
too large a field. Few are engaged in comparison with the enormous
region over which effort has to extend, and we treat the hurt
slightly, with too much haste. Then we grow despondent. Impatience,
hopelessness, should never be known among those who undertake the
Divine work of saving men and women from their sins. But to cure
this, new ideas on the whole subject of Christian endeavour and new
methods of work are required. The evil forces, a host arrayed against
true life, must be followed into the desert places where they lurk,
and there, with the sword of the Spirit, which is the bright strong
word of God, attacked and slain. When Christians are brave and loving
enough, when they have patience enough, the gospel of purity will
begin to have its power.


                             2. SETTLEMENT

                             NUMBERS xxxii

The request of the men of Reuben and Gad that they should be allowed
to settle on the eastern side of Jordan in the land of Jazer and the
land of Gilead was at first refused by Moses with warm displeasure.
They appeared to wish exemption from further military duty, if indeed
they had not almost formed the intention of parting altogether with
the rest of the tribes. Moses asked of them, "Shall your brethren go
to the war and shall ye sit here? And wherefore discourage ye the
heart of the children of Israel from going over into the land which
the Lord hath given them?" He recalled the spies and the evil report
they brought, by which a former generation had been disheartened
and made to murmur against the Lord. The forty years of wandering
had intervened since that error--a long period of suffering and
punishment. And now with this request the men of Reuben and Gad were
playing the same dangerous part. "Behold, ye are risen up in your
fathers' stead, an increase of sinful men, to augment yet the fierce
anger of the Lord toward Israel."

It is somewhat surprising to find the proposal met in this way.
But Moses had doubtless good cause for his condemnation of the
two tribes. For some time, we can believe, the notion had been
entertained, and already the cattle were driven northwards and
scattered over the pastures of Gilead. The people felt that the
confraternity which had survived the test of the wilderness journey
was now about to break up. And as the two clans that proposed to
settle in Eastern Palestine were strong and could send a large
number of warriors into the field, there was reason to fear that
the want of them would make the conquest of the great tribes beyond
Jordan too heavy a task.

The circumstances were of a kind resembling those of a Church when
the enjoyment of privilege and of the gains of the past is chosen
by many of its members, and the rest, discouraged by this moral
unbrotherliness, have to maintain the aggressive work which ought to
be shared by all. The force of unity lost, the Christian energy of
large numbers lying unemployed, the rest overburdened, Churches often
come far short of the success they might attain. When Reubenites and
Gadites devote themselves to building houses, cultivating fields,
and rearing cattle, neglecting altogether the command of God to
conquer the territory still in the hands of His enemies, the spirit
of religion cannot but decay. The selfishness of worldly Christians
reacts on those who are not worldly, so that they feel its subtle
influence, even although they scorn to yield. And when there is
some great task to be done which requires the personal service and
contributions of all, withdrawal of the less zealous may in this way
make victory impossible. True, we have on the other side the case
of Gideon and his rejection of the great bulk of his army, that he
might take the field with a few who were brave and ready. Numbers of
half-hearted people do not help an enterprise. Still, the duties of
the Church of Christ are so great that all are required for them. It
is no apology to say that men are apathetic, and therefore useless.
They ought to be eager for the Divine war.

It was not at all wonderful that the men of Reuben and Gad proposed
to settle on the east of Jordan. The soil of that region, extending
from the Jabbok Valley northwards, and including the whole district
watered by the Yarmuk and its tributaries, was exceedingly fertile,
with fine forests of oak, and stretches of meadow and arable land.
What could be seen of Judæa from the heights of Moab appeared poor
and barren in comparison with that green and fertile country. There
was abundance of room there, not only for the two tribes, but for
more; and besides the half of Manasseh which finally joined Reuben
and Gad, other clans may have begun to think that they might rest
content without venturing across Jordan. But Moses had good reasons
for resisting as far as possible this desire. There was no natural
boundary on the east of Gilead and Bashan. Moab, in a similar
situation, was exposed to the attacks and perhaps corrupted by the
influence of the Midianites. If Israel had taken up its abode in this
region which joined on to the desert, it too would have become half a
desert people. The Jordan came, as no doubt Moses foresaw, to be the
real boundary of the nation which maintained the faith of Jehovah and
carried on His purposes.

In danger of losing all because they had been too selfish, the men of
Reuben and Gad made a new proposal. They would go with the rest to
the conquest of Canaan; yea, they would form the van of the army. If
Moses would only allow them to provide sheep-folds for their flocks
and cities for their families, they would take the field and never
think of returning till the other tribes had all found settlement.
The offer was one which Moses saw fit to accept; but with a caution
to the Reubenites. If they fulfilled the promise, he said, they
should be guiltless before the Lord; but if they did not, their sin
would be written against them. Foreseeing the result of a division
between the east and west which any such faithless conduct would
certainly cause, he added the warning, "Be sure your sin will find
you out." The time would come when, if they refused to do their part
in helping the rest, they should find themselves, in some day of
extreme peril, without the sympathy of their brethren, the prey of
enemies who came from the east and north.

Earthly comfort and the means of material prosperity can never
be enjoyed without spiritual disadvantage, or at least the risk
of spiritual loss. The whole region of ease and wealth lies
towards the desert in which the adversaries of the soul have their
lurking-places, from which they come stealthily or even boldly in
open day to make their assaults. A man who has large means is exposed
to the envy of others; his life may be embittered by their designs
upon him; his nature may be seriously injured by the flattery of
those who have no power but only the base cunning to which narrow
self-love may descend. These, however, are not the assailants that
are most to be dreaded. Rather should the man who is rich fear the
danger to his religion and his soul which draws near in other ways.
The wealthy who have no religion court his friendship and propose
to him schemes for increasing his wealth. Alliances are urged upon
him which stir and partly gratify his ambition. He is pointed to
honours that can only be had through abandoning the great ideas of
life by which he should be ruled. He is served obsequiously, and is
tempted to think that the world goes very well because he enjoys all
he desires, or is in the way to obtain the fulfilment of his highest
earthly hopes. The curse of egotism hangs over him, and to escape it
he needs a double portion of the spirit of humility. Yet how is that
to come to him?

It is well for a man when, before enjoying the good things of this
life in abundance, he has taken the field with those who have to
fight a hard battle, and has done his share of common work. But even
that is not enough to guard him against pride and self-sufficiency
for the whole term of his existence. Better is it when by his own
choice the hardness is retained in his experience, when he never
discharges himself from the duty of fighting side by side with
others, that he may help them to their inheritance. That and that
alone will save his life. He is called as a soldier of God to
maintain the holy war for human rights, for the social well-being
and spiritual good of mankind. Every rich man should be a friend of
the people, a reformer, taking the part of the multitude against
his own tendency and the tendency of his class to exclusiveness
and self-indulgence. The warning given by Moses to Reuben and Gad
in accepting their proposals should linger with those who are rich
and in high station. If they fail to do their duty to the general
mass of their fellow-men, if they leave the rest to fight, at
disadvantage, for their human inheritance, they sin against God's
law, which calls for brotherhood, and that sin will surely find
them out. In the end no sin is more sure to come home in judgment.
And it is not by some miserable gifts to religious objects or some
patronage of philanthropic schemes the prosperous can discharge the
great debt laid upon them. In whatever way the inequalities of life,
the disabilities of privilege and wealth, hinder the realisation
of brotherhood, there lie opportunity and need for men's personal
effort. Would this imply sacrifice of what are called rights, of
perhaps no small amount of substance? That is precisely the saving
of a rich man's life. To that Christ pointed the rich young ruler who
came to Him seeking salvation--from that the inquirer turned away.

And how does the sin of those who neglect such high duties find them
out? Perhaps in the loss of the possessions they have selfishly
guarded, and their reduction to the level of those whom they kept at
arm's-length and treated as inferiors or as enemies. Perhaps in the
harshness of temper and bitterness of spirit the proud, friendless rich
man may find growing upon him in old age, the horrible feeling that
he has not one brother where he should have had thousands, no one to
care--except selfishly--whether he lives or dies. To come to that, so
far as a man is concerned with his fellow-men, is to be indeed lost.
But these retributions may be artfully escaped. What then? Is not
One to be reckoned with who is the Guardian of the human family and
gives men power and wealth only as His stewards, to be used in His
service? The future life does not obliterate society, but it destroys
the class separations, the factitious distinctions, that exist now.
It brings a man face to face with the fact that he is but a man, like
others, responsible to God. Is not the result indicated by our Lord
when He says to exclusive Pharisaical men, "They shall come from the
east and west, and from the north and south, and shall sit down in the
kingdom--ye yourselves cast forth without"? Brotherhood here, not in
name, but in deed and truth, means brotherhood above. Denial of it here
means unfitness for the society of heaven.

We learn from ver. 19 that the Reubenites and Gadites confidently
affirmed, even when they made their request to Moses, that their
inheritance had fallen to them on the east side of Jordan. It may
be asked how they knew, since the division was not yet made. And
the answer appears to be that they had made up their minds on the
subject. Without waiting for the lot, they seem to have said, This is
nobody's land now that the Amorites and Midianites are dispossessed.
We will have it. And there was no sufficient reason for refusing them
their choice when they accepted the conditions. At the same time,
these tribes did not act fairly and honourably. And the result was
that, although they gained the fat land and the good pastures, they
lost the close fellowship with the other tribes which was of greater
value. Reuben, the premier tribe, could no longer keep its position.
It was by-and-by succeeded by Judah. Neither Reuben nor Gad made any
great figure in the subsequent history. The half-tribe of Manasseh,
which was settled, not on its own request, but by authority, in the
northern part of Gilead towards the Argob, had greater distinction.
Gad has some notice. We read of eleven valiant men of this tribe who
swam the Jordan at its highest to join David in his trouble. "But
no person, no incident is recorded to place Reuben before us in any
distincter form than as a member of the community (if community it
can be called) of the Reubenites, the Gadites, and the half-tribe
of Manasseh. The very towns of his inheritance--Heshbon, Aroer,
Kiriathaim, Dibon, Baal-meon, Sibmah, Jazer--are familiar to us as
Moabite, not as Israelite, towns." The Reubenites, in fact, under the
influence of their wild neighbours, gradually lost touch with their
brethren and fell away from the religion of Jehovah.

It is a parable of the degeneration of life.--Earthly choice rules
and heavenly faith is hazarded for the sake of a temporal advantage.
Men have their will because they insist upon it. They do not consult
the prophet, but make terms with him, that they may gain their end.
But as they place themselves, so they have to live, not on the soil
of the promised land, no integral part of Israel.




                                  XXV

                         _THE WAY AND THE LOT_

                         NUMBERS xxxiii., xxxiv


1. The itinerary of xxxiii. 1-49 is one of the passages definitely
ascribed to Moses. It opens with the departure from Rameses in Egypt
on the morrow after the passover, when the children of Israel "went
out with an high hand in the sight of all the Egyptians." The exodus
is made singularly impressive in this narrative by the addition that
it took place "while the Egyptians were burying all their firstborn,
which the Lord had smitten among them." The Divine salvation of
Israel begins when the dark shadow of loss and judgment rests on
their oppressors. The gods of Egypt are discredited by the triumph
of Jehovah's people. They can neither save their own worshippers nor
prevent the servants of another from obtaining liberty.

From Rameses, the place of departure, to Abel-shittim, in the plains
of Moab, forty-two stations in all are given at which the Israelites
pitched. Of these about twenty-four are named either in Exodus, in
other parts of the Book of Numbers, or in Deuteronomy. Some eighteen,
therefore, are mentioned in this passage and nowhere else. Of the whole
number, comparatively few have as yet been identified. The Egyptian
localities, at least Rameses and Succoth, are known. With the exit
from Egypt, at the crossing of the Red Sea difficulty begins. Our
passage says that the Israelites went three days' journey into the
wilderness of Etham; Exodus calls it the wilderness of Shur. Then Marah
and Elim bring the travellers, according to chap. xxxiii., to the Red
Sea, the _Yâm Suph_. Ordinarily, this is supposed to be the Gulf of
Suez, alongside which the route would have lain from the day it was
crossed. There are, however, the best reasons for believing that this
"Red Sea" is the eastern gulf, The Elanitic, as it must be in xiv.
25, where, after the evil report of the spies, the Divine command is
given: "To-morrow turn ye, and get you into the wilderness by the way
to the Red Sea." From this identification of the Yâm Suph many things
follow. And one is the rejection of the ordinary opinion regarding the
position of Sinai. The mountain of the law-giving is always described
as situated in Midian. Now, Midian is beyond Elath, on the eastern
side of the Yâm Suph, not in the peninsula between the Gulfs of Suez
and Akabah. Elim and Elath, or Eloth, appear to be names for the same
place, at the head of the Gulf of Akabah. We have therefore to look
for Sinai either among the southern hills of Seir or those lying more
southward still, towards the desert. In Deborah's song (Judg. v. 4, 5)
occur the following verses:--

      "Lord, when Thou wentest out of Seir,
       When Thou marchedst out of the field of Edom,
       The earth trembled, the heavens also dropped,
       Yea, the clouds dropped water;
       The mountains flowed down at the presence of the Lord,
       Even yon Sinai at the presence of the Lord, the God of Israel."

In the same direction the "Prayer of Habbakuk" points (iii. 3, 7):

      "God came from Teman,
       And the Holy One from Mount Paran.
       His glory covered the heavens,
       And the earth was full of His light....
       I saw the tents of Cushan in affliction,
       The curtains of the land of Midian did tremble."

The tradition which places Sinai in the south of the peninsula
between the two gulfs "is of later origin than the lifetime of St.
Paul, and can claim no higher authority than the interested fancies
of ignorant cœnobites. It throws into confusion both the geography
and the history of the Pentateuch, and contradicts the definite
statements of the Old Testament." So the most recent inquiry.

If Mount Sinai was somewhere to the south of Edom, the journey thence
to Kadesh by way of Kibroth-hattaavah and Hazeroth, localities
mentioned both in Numb. xi. and xxxiii., may have had other stations;
and these may be named in ver. 19 of our passage and onward. But
identification of the places is exceedingly doubtful till we come
to Ezion-geber, in the Arabah, and Mount Hor. Deut. x. places the
scene of Aaron's death at Mosera, which seems to be the same as
Moseroth, and is there given along with other stations named in the
itinerary---Bene-jaakan, Gudgodah (= Hor-haggidgad), Jotbathah. And
this seems to prove that these localities were in or near the Arabah,
Moseroth being in the region of Mount Hor. But where Kadesh is to
be found between Rithmah and Moseroth, and under what name, it is
impossible to say. Keil argues for Rithmah itself. Palmer reckons
twenty stations to the first arrival at Kadesh. His map, however,
shows a Mount Sheraif, which may be the same as Shepher, not far from
Gadis, which he identifies with Kadesh. For the rest we are left in
great ignorance, relieved only by this, that at the most there are
but eighteen stations given, more probably thirteen, for the whole
thirty-seven years between the first arrival at Kadesh and the death of
Aaron at Mount Hor; and five or six of these were on the Arabah. During
the whole of that long period there were only a few removals of the
tabernacle, and those apparently within a limited area near Kadesh.

A list of names with only three historical notes appears a singular
memorial of the forty years. Time was, no doubt, when the places
named were all well known, and any Israelite desiring to satisfy
himself as to the route by which his forefathers went could make it
out by help of this passage. To us the interest of the subject is
partly the same as that which might have been found by a Hebrew,
say, of the time of Hezekiah, for whom the verification of the
wilderness journey might be a help to faith. But the impossibility
of identifying the localities shows that there are matters in the
history of Israel which are of no particular importance now. There
is more danger in seeking to gratify mere curiosity, than profit
in any possible discoveries. Why should not the mountain of the
law-giving be hid in the shadows as well as the grave in which Moses
was laid? Why should not the places at which Israel encamped be to
us mere names, since, if we could identify them, it might only be to
add fresh difficulties instead of clearing away those that exist?
The Israelites who entered Canaan had not seen all the way by which
Jehovah led His people. When they crossed the Jordan, present duty
was to engage them, not the mere names that belonged to the past.
They were to forget the things behind, and stretch forward to the
things which were before. And duty is the same still. Our backward
glance, especially on the actual path from one spot of earth to
another by which men have gone in trial and anticipation, must not
hinder the efforts called for by the circumstances of our own time.
The way of the desert, especially, may well lie half obliterated in
the distance, since we know the spiritual fruit of the dealings of
God with Israel, and can bear it with us as we follow our own road.

The ideas of change and urgency are in our passage. The wilderness
journey was taken by a people on whom Divine influences had laid
hold, who of themselves would have remained content in Egypt, but
were not suffered, because God had some greater thing in store
for them. The urgency throughout was His. And so is that which we
ourselves feel hurrying us from change to change, from place to
place. We may not be in the wilderness, but in a spot of shelter and
comfort; and it may be no house of bondage, but a vantage-ground
for generous effort. Even when we are thus happily settled, as we
imagine, the call comes, and we must strike our tents. At other times
our own anxiety anticipates the command. But we know that always,
whether we pass into sterner conditions of life or escape to more
pleasant circumstances, the times and changes that happen to us are
of God's appointing, that His providence urges us toward a goal. And
this means that our reaching the goal must be by His way, although
properly we endeavour to find it for ourselves.

The number of the stations at which Israel encamped in the course
of forty years can scarcely be taken as representing the number of
changes from dwelling to dwelling any pilgrim through this world
shall have to make. But if we think of halting-places and movements
of thought, we shall have a fruitful parallel. From the twentieth to
the sixtieth year--may we not say?--is the time of journeying that
takes the mind from its first freedom to comparative rest. Not far
on the Divine law-giving impresses itself on the conscience; and
hence a direct road may appear to lead into the peace of obedience.
But the stations successively reached, Kibroth-hattaavah, Hazeroth,
Rithmah, and the rest, represent each a peculiar difficulty
encountered, a barrier to our steady progress towards the settled
mind. St. Paul indicates one he found when he says: "I had not known
coveting, except the law had said, Thou shalt not covet." Another
halt is imposed when it is found that the law appears to forbid
what is according to nature; still another when obedience requires
separation from those who have been valued friends and pleasant
companions. These hindrances left behind as the soul, still confiding
and hopeful, is urged on towards the goal, a great trial like that
of Kadesh follows. We are not far from the frontier of promise; and
anticipations are formed of many delights for heart and life. Is
not obedience to bring felicity, an easy salvation from doubt and
fear? But it becomes plain that there are enemies to faith and peace
beyond the border as well as in the region already crossed. Complete
conformity to the Divine will has not been achieved. Will it ever
be achieved? We begin to doubt the result of law-keeping. There is
perhaps a backward look to Sinai, implying a question whether God
spoke there, or beyond Sinai, to the old traditional way of life. And
so another term of difficult inquiry begins.

In this way many find themselves held for a long period of middle
life. Their minds move from one point to another without seeming
to make any progress. But neither does rest come. It is seen that
partial obedience, a measure of nearness to the perfection once
dreamed of, will not suffice. Then arises the question whether
obedience can ever save. There is return almost to Sinai itself,
at least to a place from which its peak is seen and the mind is
confirmed as to the inexorability of law. So the urgency of the
Divine will is felt, and the way is fixed. If the soul would make
its own way into peace, it is driven back. For, perhaps, it would
have the difficulty solved by taking the way of a Church, accepting
a creed--as Israel would have passed through the territory of Edom.
This also is forbidden. Trusted helpers fall by the way, as Aaron
died at Hor, and there is sorrowful delay. But movement is enforced;
and, finally, it is by a road that reveals Sinai and the law in
quite another aspect, showing vital faith, not mere obedience, to
be the means of salvation, our progress is made. Round the borders
of Edom, not by trust in creed or Church, but by confidence in
God Himself, the soul must advance. Then strength comes. Point
after point is reached and passed. Self-righteousness, pride, and
Pharisaism--Amorites of the mountain land--are overcome. At length
through the faith of Christ peace is found, the peace that is
possible on this side the river.

It is our high privilege to be urged and led on thus by Him who knows
the way we should take, who tries us that we may come forth purified
as gold. Without Divine pressure we should content ourselves in the
desert and never see the real good of life. So many lose themselves
because they will not admit that to be of the truth is necessary to
salvation. There is a way of thinking, or rather refusing to think,
of spiritual verities which keeps the soul unaware of the purpose
God would carry into effect, or indifferent to it. The mind refuses
its duty; and in the midway of life the spiritual goal fades from
view. To guard against this taking place in the case of any one is
the office of the Gospel ministry. If evangelical preaching does not
keep thought awake and attentive to Divine inspirations, if it does
not speak to those who are in every stage of perplexity, at every
possible camping-ground, it fails of its high purpose.


2. Commandment is given that when the Israelites pass over Jordan
they shall use effectual means for establishing themselves as the
people of Jehovah in Canaan. They are, for one thing, to drive out
before them all the inhabitants of the land. Nothing is here said
of putting them all to the sword; only they are not to be left even
in partial occupation. The plan of Israel's settlement in its new
territory requires that it shall be subject to no alien influence,
and shall have the field entirely to itself for the development of
customs, civilisation, and religion. And in this there is nothing
either impossible or, as the ideas of the time went, strange and
cruel. We do not need to take refuge in the command of God and
defend it by saying that He had absolute right over the lives of
the Canaanites. The tides of war and population were continually
flowing and receding. When the Israelites reached Canaan, they had
the same right as others to occupy it, provided they could make their
right good at the point of the sword. Yet for their own special
consciousness the command given by Moses in Jehovah's name was most
important. It was only as His people they were to advance, and as His
people they were to dwell separate in Canaan.

To drive out all the inhabitants of the land was, however, a
difficult task; and even Moses might not intend the order to
be literally obeyed. We have seen that he did not require the
destruction of the Midianites to be absolute. In the wars of conquest
in Canaan cases of a similar kind would necessarily arise. When
a tribe was driven out of its cities many would be left behind,
some of whom would conceal themselves and gradually venture from
their hiding-places. The command was general, and could scarcely
be supposed to require the putting to death of all children. And
again, as we know, there were fortresses which for a long time defied
attempts to reduce them. The Israelites were not so faithful to God
that Moses could expect their success to be insured by supernatural
aid. It is the constant purpose they are to have in view, to sweep
the land clear of those presently in occupation. As they establish
themselves, this will be carried out; and if they fail, allowing any
of the tribes to remain, these will be as pricks in their eyes and as
thorns in their sides.

The will of God that Israel, called to special duty in the world,
was to keep itself separate, is here strongly emphasised. It was
the only way by which faith could be preserved and made fruitful.
For the Canaanites, already civilised and in many of the arts
superior to the Hebrews, had gross polytheistic beliefs imbedded in
their customs, and a somewhat elaborate cultus which was observed
throughout the whole land. "Figured stones," which by their shape or
incised emblems conveyed religious ideas; molten images, probably
of bronze, like those found at Tel el Hesy, which were for household
use, or of a larger size for tribal adoration; "high places" crowned
by altars and sacrificial stones, were specially to be destroyed.
The tendency to polytheism required to be carefully guarded against,
for the gods of Canaan represented the powers of nature, and their
rites celebrated the fruitfulness of earth under the lordship of Baal
or Bel, and the mysterious processes of life associated with the
influence of Astarte, the moon. The divinities of Egypt also appear
to have had their worshippers; and, indeed, the mixed population of
the land had drawn from every neighbouring region symbols, rites, and
practices supposed to propitiate the unseen powers on whose favour
human life must depend. Israel could prosper only by rejecting and
extirpating this idolatry. Allowed to survive in any degree, it would
be the cause of physical suffering and spiritual decay.

The command thus ascribed to Moses was again one which he must have
known the Israelites would find difficult to carry out, even if they
were cordially disposed to obey it. The sacred places of a country
like Canaan tend to retain their reputation even when the rites
fall into disuse; and however expeditiously the work of sweeping
away the original inhabitants might be done, there was no small
danger that knowledge of the cult as well as veneration for the high
places would be learned by the Hebrews. The command was made clear
and uncompromising so that every Israelite might know his duty; but
the difficulty and the peril remained. And as we know from the Book
of Judges and subsequent history, the law, especially in regard to
the demolition of high places, became practically a dead letter.
Jehovah was worshipped at the ancient places of sacrifice; and so far
were even pious Israelites of the next few centuries from thinking
they did wrong in using those old altars, that Samuel fell in with
the custom. It was true in regard to this commandment as it is with
regard to many others,--the high mark of duty is presented, but few
aim at it. Expediency rules, the possible is made to suffice instead
of the ideal. There is reason to believe, not only that the images
and stone symbols of Canaan were venerated, but that Jehovah Himself
was worshipped by many of the Hebrews under the form of some animal.
And the Canaanites became to those who fraternised with them as
pricks in their eyes. Spiritual vision failed; faith fell back on
the coarse emblems used by the old inhabitants of the land. Then the
vigour of the tribes decayed and they were judged and punished.


3. The boundaries of the land in which the Israelites were to dwell
are laid down in ch. xxxiv.; but, as elsewhere, there is difficulty
in following the geography and identifying the old names. The south
quarter is to be "from the wilderness of Zin along by the side of
Edom"--that is to say, it is to include the region of Zin near Kadesh
and extend to the mountains of Seir. The "ascent of Akrabbim" is
apparently the Ghor rising southwards from the Dead Sea. The line
then runs along the Arabah for some distance, say fifty miles, across
by the south of the Azazimeh hills and of Kadesh Barnea towards the
stream called the river or brook of Egypt, which it followed to
its debouchment in the Mediterranean. The western boundary was the
Mediterranean or Great Sea for a distance of perhaps one hundred and
sixty miles. The northern boundary is exceedingly obscure. They were
to keep in view a "mount Hor" as a landmark; but no two geographers
can be said to agree where it was. The "entering in of Hamath" is also
a locality greatly disputed. Most likely it was some well-known part
of the road leading along the Leontes valley to that of the Orontes.
If we take the mount Hor here indicated to be Hermon, a line running
west and striking the Mediterranean somewhere north of Tyre would be a
natural boundary, and would correspond fairly with the actual partition
and occupation of the country. It is certain, however, that both the
Philistines and Phœnicians, especially the latter, were so strongly
established in the southern and northern parts of the seaboard that
any attempt to dispossess them was soon discovered to be futile. And
even in the limited central range from Kedesh Naphtali to Beersheba the
settlement was only effected gradually.

The Canaan of the Divine promise marked out, yet never fully
possessed, is a symbol of the region of this life which those who
believe in God have assigned to them, but never entirely enjoy.
There are boundaries within which there is abundant room for the
development of the life of faith. It is not, as the world reckons, a
district of great resources. As Canaan had neither gold nor silver,
neither coal nor iron mines, as its seaboard was not well supplied
with harbours, nor its rivers and lakes of great use for inland
navigation, so we may say the life open to the Christian has its
limitations and disabilities. It does not invite those who seek
pleasure, wealth, or dazzling exploits. Within it, discipline is to
be found rather than enjoyment of earthly good. The "milk and honey"
of this land are spiritual symbols, Divine sacraments. There is room
for the development of life in every branch of study and culture,
but in subordination to the glory of God, and for the testimony that
should be borne to His majesty and truth.

Many of us affect to despise so narrow a range of thought and
endeavour, and persist in believing that something more than
discipline may be looked for in this world. Is there not a proper
kingdom of humanity better than any kingdom of God? May not the race
of men, apart from any service paid to an Unseen God, attain dignity
of its own, power, gladness, magnificence? It is supposed that by
rejecting all the limitations of religion and refusing the outlook
to another life the united labour of men will make this life free
and this earth a paradise. But it remains true that men must limit
their hopes with regard to their own future here as individuals and
the future of the race. We must accept the boundaries God has fixed,
on one side the swift Jordan, on the other the Great Sea. There are
seemingly rich fields beyond, wide regions that invite the tastes and
senses, but these are no part of the soul's inheritance; to explore
and reduce them would bring no real gain.

The range that lies open to us as servants of God, and affords ample
space for the discipline of life, is often not used and therefore
not enjoyed. When people will not accept the inevitable fixed limits
within which their time and vigour can be occupied to the best
advantage, when they look covetously to districts of experience not
meant for them, as Israel did at certain periods of her history,
their life is spoiled. Discontent begins, envy follows. Where in
seeking and reaching moral gains, purity, courage, love, there would
have been a continual sense of adequate result and encouraging
prospect, there is now no gain, no pleasure. The appointed lot is
despised, and all it can yield held in contempt. How many there are
who, with a full river of Divine bounty on one side their life, and
the great ocean of the Divine faithfulness ebbing and flowing on
the other, with the pastures and olive-groves of the Word of God to
nourish their soul, with access to His city and sanctuary, and an
outlook from summits like Tabor and Hermon to a transfigured life
in the new heavens and earth, speak nevertheless with scorn and
bitterness of their heritage! They might be reaching "the measure
of the stature of the fulness of Christ," but they remain graceless
and discontented to the end. Israel, understanding its destiny and
using its opportunities aright, might well say--and so may every one
who knows the truth as it is in Jesus Christ--"the lines are fallen
unto me in pleasant places; yea, I have a goodly heritage." But this
gladness of heart has its root in believing content. The restricted
land is full of God's promise: "Thou maintainest my lot." The
security of Jehovah's word encompasses the man of faith.




                                  XXVI

                         _THE CITIES OF REFUGE_

                          NUMBERS xxxv., xxxvi

1. THE INHERITANCE OF THE LEVITES. The order relating to the
Levitical cities may be said to describe an ideal settlement. We
have, at all events, no evidence that the command was ever fully
carried out. It was to the effect that in forty-eight cities,
scattered throughout the whole of the tribes in proportion to their
population, dwellings were to be allotted to the Levites, who were
also to have the suburbs of those cities; that is to say, the fields
lying immediately about them, "for their cattle, and for their
substance, and for all their beasts." It is assumed that closely
surrounding each of the cities there shall be pasturage, and that a
regular or fairly regular boundary can be made at the distance of one
thousand cubits from the city. Singularly, nothing whatever is said
as to the duties of the Levites thus distributed throughout the land
on both sides Jordan, from Kedesh Naphtali in the north, to Debir in
the south, according to Josh. xxi. It is not said that they were to
perform any ecclesiastical functions or instruct the people in the
Divine Law. Yet something of the kind must have been intended, since
many of them were at a great and inconvenient distance from Shiloh
and other places at which the ark was stationed.

According to this statute, there is, for one thing, to be no
seclusion of the Levites from the rest of the people. If clergy and
laity, as we say, are distinguished, the distinction is made as small
as possible. From the terms of the present order (xxxv. 2, ff.) it
might appear that the towns given to the Levites were to be occupied
by them exclusively. In parallel passages, however, it is clear that
the Levites dwelt along with others in the cities; and in this way,
as well as by engaging in pastoral work, they were kept closely in
touch with the men of the tribes. The land allotted to them was not
sufficient for farms; but the tithes and offerings were to a large
extent for their support. And the arrangement thus sketched is held
with some reason to be an ideal for every order of men called to
similar duty. The Levites, indeed, were not at first spiritual.
Neither the nature of their work at the sanctuary, nor the conditions
of their life, implied any special consecration of heart. But the
general tone of a religious ministry advances; and even in David's
time there were Levites who served God in no mere routine, but with
earnest mind, with a measure of inspiration. The ordinance here is in
behalf of a consecrated order devoted to the service of God.

The suburbs, or pasture lands about the cities, are measured a
thousand cubits broad, and are to be two thousand cubits along
each of the four boundaries. If the figures given are correct it
would seem that, although the wall of the city is spoken of, the
measurement must really have begun in the centre of the city;
otherwise there could never have been a square of land, cities not
taking that form; nor could a boundary of two thousand cubits on each
aspect, north, south, east, and west, be made out. The cities must
often have been small, a cluster of poor huts built of clay or rude
brick, with a wall of similar material. We need imagine no stately
dwellings or fine pleasure grounds when we read here of the provision
for the Levites. Within the wall they had their bare, mean cottages;
outside, there might be a breadth of perhaps four hundred yards of
poor enough ground which they could claim. But as the tithes were
not always paid, so the dwellings and the pasturage may not always
have been allotted. There is not much reason to wonder that in a
short time after the settlement in Canaan the Levites, finding no
special work at the sanctuary, and obtaining little support from the
offerings, gradually became part of the tribes in which they happened
to have their abode. Hence we read in Judges (xvii. 7) of "a young
man out of Bethlehem-judah, of the family of Judah, who was a Levite."

The main purpose of the present statute, so far as it refers to the
dwellings of the Levites, would appear to have been economic, not
religious. It was that all the tribes might have their share of
maintaining the servants of the sanctuary. But it seems likely that a
class half priestly would, in lack of other duty, attach itself to the
high places, and set up a worship not contemplated by the law. And if
this is to be regarded as a misfortune, the choice of the Levitical
cities is in some cases difficult to account for. Kedesh in Naphtali
had been a famous holy place of the Canaanites; so probably were
others, as Gibeon, Shechem, Gath-rimmon. The special symbol of Jehovah
was the ark; and where the ark was the principal national rites were
always performed. But in a time of pioneer work and constant alarms the
central sanctuary could not always be visited, and the Levites appear
to have lent themselves to worship of a local kind.

An ecclesiastical order needs great faithfulness if it is not to
become irreligious through poverty, or proud and domineering through
assumption of power with God. To live poorly as those Levites were
expected to live, without the opportunity of earthly gain, while
often the share of national support which was due fell to a very low
and wholly inadequate amount, would try the fidelity of the best
of them. No large claim need be made in behalf of men specially
engaged in the work of the Christian Church; and great wealth seems
inappropriate to those who represent Christ. But what is their due
should at least be paid cheerfully, and the more so if they give
earnest minds to the service of God and man. With all faults that
have at various periods of the Church's history stained the character
of the clergy, they have maintained a testimony on behalf of the
higher life, and the sacredness of duty to God. A materialistic age
will make light of that service, and point to ecclesiastical pride
and covetousness as more than counterbalancing any good that is done.
But a broad and fair survey of the course of events will show that
the witness-bearing of a special class to religious ideas has kept
alive that reverence on which morality depends. True, the ideal of
a theocracy would dispense with an order set apart to teach the law
of God and to enforce His claims on men. But for the times that now
are, even in the most Christian country, the witness-bearing of a
gospel ministry is absolutely needful. And we may take the statute
before us as anticipating a general necessity, that necessity which
the apostles of our Lord met when they ordained presbyters in every
Church, and gave them commission to feed the flock of God.


2. THE CITIES OF REFUGE. Among the forty-eight cities that provide
dwellings for the Levites, six are to be cities of refuge, "that the
man-slayer which killeth any person unwittingly may flee thither."
Three of these cities are to be on the east and three on the west
side of Jordan. According to other enactments they are to be
distributed so as to be reached quite easily from all parts of the
country. They were sanctuaries for any one fleeing from the "avenger
of blood"; but the protection found in them was not by any means
absolute. Only if there appeared to be good cause for admitting
a fugitive was he afforded refuge even for a time, and his trial
followed as soon as possible. The laws of protection and judgment are
here laid down not fully, though with some detail.

We notice first that the statutes regarding the man-slayer are frankly
based on the primitive practice of blood revenge. It was the duty of
the nearest male relation of one who had been slain to seek the blood
of the man who slew him. The duty was held to be one which he owed
to his brother, to the community, and to God; and the principle of
retribution in such cases was embodied in the saying, "Whoso sheddeth
man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed." The goël, or redeemer,
whose part it was to recover for a family land that had been alienated,
or a member of the family who had fallen into slavery, had it also laid
on him to seek justice on behalf of the family when one belonging to
it had been killed. The evils of this method of punishing crime are
very evident. All the heat of personal affection for the man put to
death, the keen desire to maintain the honour of family or clan, and
the bitter hatred of the tribe to which the homicide belonged, made the
pursuit of the criminal swift and the stroke fierce and unrelenting. A
goël put on a false track might easily strike to the ground an innocent
person; and he would feel himself bound to incur all risks in avenging
his kinsman. Often whole tribes of Arabs are involved in the blood feud
beginning in a single stroke, and wherever the custom prevails there is
the gravest danger of wide and sanguinary strife. The enactments of our
passage are intended to counteract in part these abuses and dangers.

We may wonder that the Hebrew law, enlightened on many points, did
not wholly abolish the practice of blood revenge. Justice is not
the private affair of any man, even the nearest kinsman of one who
has been injured. We have learned that the administration of law,
especially in cases of murder or supposed murder, is best taken
out of the hands of a private avenger, whose aim is to strike as
soon and as effectually as possible. It remains of course for those
whose friend has died by violence to institute inquiries and do
their utmost to bring the criminal to justice. But even when a man's
guilt seems clear his trial is before an impartial judge by whom all
relevant facts are elicited. In Hebrew law there was no complete
provision for such an administration of justice. The ancient custom
could not be easily set aside, for one thing; the passionate oriental
nature would cling to it. And for another, there was no organisation
for repressing disorder and dealing with crime. A certain risk had
to be run, in order that the sanctity of human life might be clearly
kept before a people too ready to strike as well as to curse. But if
the man-slayer was able to reach a city of refuge he had his trial.
The old custom was checked by the right of the fugitive to claim
sanctuary and to have his case investigated.

As for the sanctuary cities, there may also have been some imperfect
custom which anticipated them. In Egypt there certainly was; and
the Canaanites, who had learned not a little from Egypt, may have
had sacred places that afforded protection to the fugitive. But
the Mosaic law prevented abuse of the means of evading justice.
He who had killed another was a criminal before God. The blood of
the brother he had slain defiled the land and cried to Heaven. No
sanctuary must protect a man who had with homicidal purpose struck
another. There was to be neither priestly protection, nor sanctuary,
nor ransom for him. The Divine principle of justice took up the cause.

In vv. 16 ff. there are examples of cases which are adjudged to be
murder. To smite one with an instrument of iron, or with a stone
grasped in the hand presumably large enough to kill, or with a weapon
of wood, a heavy club or bar, is adjudged to be deliberate homicide.
Then if hatred can be proved, and one known to have cherished enmity
towards another is shown to have thrust him down, or hurled at him,
lying in wait, or to have smitten him with the hand, such a one is to
be allowed no sanctuary. On the other hand, the cases of inadvertent
homicide are defined: "if he thrust him suddenly without enmity, or
hurled upon him anything without lying in wait, or with any stone,
whereby a man may die, seeing him not." These, of course, are simply
instances, not exhaustive categories.

It is not here stated, but in Josh. xx. 4 the statute runs that
the man-slayer who fled to a sanctuary city was to state his cause
before the elders, no doubt at the gate. Their preliminary decision
had to be given in his favour before he could be admitted. But
the real trial was by the "congregation," Numb. xxxv. 24, some
assembly representing the tribe within whose territory the crime
has been committed, or more likely a gathering of headmen of the
whole nation. Further, at ver. 30 it is enacted that the charge
of the avenger of blood against any one must be substantiated by
two witnesses at least. These provisions form the basis of a sound
judicial method. The rights of refuge and of revenge stand opposed
to each other, and between the two a large and authoritative court
gives judgment. It will be observed, moreover, that the judiciary was
not ecclesiastical. Where power was to be exercised in the name of
God, the priests were not to wield it, but the people. The form of
government is far nearer a democracy than a hierocracy.

A singular point in the law is the term during which the unwitting
man-slayer who had been acquitted by the court of justice must remain
in sanctuary. He is in danger of being put to death by the avenger of
blood until the acting high priest dies. Till that event he must keep
within the border of his city of refuge. And here the idea seems to be
that the official memory of the crime which had ceremonially defiled
the land rested with the high priest. He was supposed to keep in mind,
on God's behalf, the bloodshed which even though unintentional was
still polluting. His death accordingly obliterated the recollection
that kept the man-slayer under peril of the goël's revenge. The high
priest had no power to acquit or condemn a criminal, nor to enforce
against him the punishment of his fault. But he was the guardian of the
sacredness of the land in the midst of which Jehovah dwelt.

With regard to the symbolical meaning of the cities of refuge, it
is needful to exercise great care at every point. The man-slayer,
for instance, fleeing from the avenger of blood, is not a type of
the sinner fleeing for his life from the justice of God. If guilty
of murder, a man could find no safety even in the city of refuge. It
was only if he was not guilty of premeditated crime that he found
sanctuary. The refuge cities, however, represented Divine justice
as in contrast to the justice or rather the vengeance of man--that
Divine justice which Christ came to reveal, giving Himself for
us upon the cross. Human righteousness errs sometimes by excess,
sometimes by defect. Certain offences it would never condemn, others
it would passionately and remorselessly punish. The sanctuary cities
show a higher idea of justice. But all men are guilty before God. And
there is mercy with Him not only for the unwitting transgressor, but
for the man who has to confess deliberate sin, the forfeiture of his
life to Divine law.

The singular opinion has been expressed that the death of the high
priest was expiatory. This is said to be "unmistakably evident" from
the addition of the clause, "who has been anointed with the holy
oil" (ver. 25). The argument is that as the high priest's life and
work "acquired a representative signification through this anointing
with the Holy Ghost, his death might also be regarded as a death for
the sins of the people by virtue of the Holy Ghost imparted to him,
through which the unintentional man-slayer received the benefits of
the propitiation for his sins before God, so that he could return
cleansed to his native town without further exposure to the vengeance
of the avenger of blood." And thus, it is said, "The death of the
earthly high priest became a type of that of the heavenly One, who
through the eternal Spirit offered Himself without spot to God, that
we might be redeemed from our transgressions." But although many of
the Rabbins and fathers held this view as to the expiatory nature of
the high priest's death, there is absolutely nothing in Scripture or
reason to support it. All the expiation, moreover, which the Mosaic
law provided for was ceremonial. If the death of the high priest was
efficacious only so far as his functions were, then there could be
no atonement or appearance of atonement for moral guilt, even that
of culpable homicide for instance. The death of the high priest
was therefore in no sense a type of the death of Christ, the whole
meaning of which lies in relation to moral, not ceremonial, offences.

While it cannot be said that "light is thrown by the provisions
regarding cities of refuge on the atonement of Christ"--for that
would be the morning star shedding light on the sun--still there are
some points of illustration; and one of these may be noted. As the
protection of the sanctuary city extended only to the boundaries or
precincts belonging to it, so the defence the sinner has in Christ
can be enjoyed only so far as life is brought within the range of
the influence and commands of Christ. He who would be safe must be
a Christian. It is not mere profession of faith--"Lord, Lord, have
we not prophesied in Thy name?"--but hearty obedience to the laws of
duty coming from Christ that gives safety. "Who shall lay any thing
to the charge of God's elect?"--and the elect are those who yield the
fruit of the Spirit, who are lovers of God and their fellow-men, who
show their faith by their works. It is a misrepresentation of the
whole teaching of Scripture to declare that salvation can be had,
apart from life and practice, in some mythical relation with Christ
which is hardly even to be stated in words.


3. TRIBAL INHERITANCE. Already we have heard the appeal of the
daughters of Zelophehad to be allowed an inheritance as representing
their father. Now a question which has arisen regarding them must be
solved. The five women have not cared to undertake the work of the
upland farm allotted to them, somewhere about the head waters of the
Yarmuk. They have, in fact, as heiresses been somewhat in request among
the young men of different tribes; and they are almost on the point of
giving their hands to husbands of their choice. But the chiefs of the
family of Manasseh to which they belong find a danger here. The young
women may perhaps choose men of Gad, or men of Judah. Then their land,
which is part of the land of Manasseh, will go over to the tribes of
the husbands. There will be a few acres of Judah or of Gad in the north
of Manasseh's land. And if other young women throughout the tribes, who
happen to be heiresses, marry according to their own liking, by-and-by
the tribe territories will be all confused. Is this to be allowed? If
not, how is the evil to be prevented?

The national centre and general unity of Israel could not in the
early period be expected to suffice. Without tribal coherence and
a sense of corporate life in each family the Israelites would be
lost among the people of the land. Especially would this tend to
take place on the eastern side of Jordan and in the far north. Now
the clan unity went with the land. It was as those dwelling in a
certain district the descendants of one progenitor realised their
brotherhood. Hence there was good reason for the appeal of the
Manassites and the legislation that followed. Women who succeeded
to land were to marry within the families of their fathers. Men were
apparently not forbidden to marry women of another tribe if they were
not heiresses. But the possession of land by women carried with it a
responsibility and deprived them of a certain part of freedom. Every
daughter who had an inheritance was to be wife to one of her near
kin; so should no inheritance remove from one family to another; the
tribes should cleave every one to his own inheritance.

The exigencies of the early settlement appear to have required
this law; and it was maintained as far as possible, so that he who
lived in a certain region might know himself not only a Reubenite
or a Benjamite as the case might be, but a son of Hanoch of the
Reubenites, or a son of Ard among the Benjamites. But we may doubt
whether the unity of the nation was not delayed by the means used
to keep the land for each tribe and each tribe on its own land. The
arrangement was perhaps inevitable; yet it certainly belonged to a
primitive social order. The homogeneity of the people would have been
helped and the tribes held more closely together by interchange of
land. In every law made at an early stage of a people's development
there is involved something unsuitable to after periods. And
perhaps one error made by the Israelites was to cling too long and
too closely to tribal descent and make too much of genealogy. The
enactment regarding the marriage of heiresses within their own
families was an old one, bearing the authority of Moses. There came
a time when it should have been revoked and everything done that
was possible to weld the tribes together. But the old customs held;
and what was the result? The tribes east of Jordan, as well as Dan
and Asher, were well-nigh lost to the Confederacy at an early date.
Subsequently a division began between the northern and southern
peoples. We cannot doubt that partly for want of family alliances
between Judah and Ephraim, and subordination of tribal to national
sentiment, there came the separation into two kingdoms.

For the tribe idea and the other of making inheritance of land a
governing matter, the Israelites would seem to have paid dearly.
And there is danger still in the attempt to make a nation cohere
on any mere territorial basis. It is the spirit, the fidelity to a
common purpose, and the pervasive enthusiasm that give real unity.
If these are wanting, or if the general aim is low and material, the
security of families in the soil may be exceedingly mischievous.
At the same time the old feeling is proved to have a deep root in
fact. Territorial solidarity is indispensable to a nation; and the
exclusion of a people from large portions of its land is an evil
intolerable. Christianity has not done its work where the Church,
the teacher of righteousness, is unconcerned for this great matter.
How can religion flourish where brotherhood fails? And how can
brotherhood survive in a nation when the right of occupying the soil
is practically denied? First among the economic questions which claim
Christian settlement is that of land tenure, land right. Christianity
carries forward the principles of the Mosaic law into higher ranges,
where justice is not less, but more--where brotherhood has a nobler
purpose, a finer motive.




                                 INDEX


  Aaron, 16;
    character of, 29;
    and his sons, 32;
    complains of Moses' marriage, 137;
    rod of, 198, 207;
    intercession of, 207;
    close of his life, 235.

  Aaronites, support of, 215.

  Abstinence, pledge of, 60.

  Agag, 307.

  Alliances with Christianity, 114.

  Amalekites, 312.

  Amorites, 157, 253;
    defeat of, by Israel, 255.

  Anak, sons of, 157.

  Angel of the Lord, 281.

  Arabah, Wady, 244.

  Arad, King of, 178, 243.

  Ark, the, 44;
    borne before the host, 116.

  Arnold, Matthew, 304.

  Art, claimed for God, 95.

  Assemblies, calling of, 96.

  Atonement, for omissions, 184;
    great day of, 356.

  Azazel, 355.


  Baal-peor, festival of, 314.

  Baals, the, 295.

  Balaam, reputation of, 261;
    name of, 262;
    his knowledge of Jehovah, 267;
    refuses to go to Moab, 268;
    his error, 273;
    the critical, 283;
    first parable of, 292;
    prayer of, 296;
    second parable of, 300;
    third parable of, 305;
    fourth parable of, 309;
    end of, 320;
    like Absalom, 322.

  Balak, in anxiety, 261;
    and Balaam, 288;
    his sacrifices, 290;
    bewildered, 305.

  Bashan reduced, 255.

  Bible, the Word of God, 163;
    statements of, 281.

  Blessing, the, of Aaron, 67;
    of Moses, 116.

  Blood revenge, 400.

  Boehme, Jacob, quoted, 69.

  Boundaries of land, 390.

  Brazen serpent, the, 248;
    symbolism connected with, 249.

  Browning, R., quoted, 275, 294.


  Caleb, one of the spies, 151;
    honoured, 173.

  Camp, arrangement of the, 27.

  Canaan, to be explored, 152;
    reported on, 157.

  Canaanites admitted to fellowship, 183;
    to be driven out, 389.

  Candelabrum, 78;
    symbolism of, 79.

  Censers, the two hundred and fifty, 198, 205.

  Census, the first, 18;
    of all men, 20;
    results of, 22;
    the second, 323.

  Ceremonial duties, use of, 47.

  Chaldean soothsaying, 263.

  Chittim, 306, 312.

  Christ, the Light, 83;
    the historical, 88;
    Revealer of God, 92;
    the True Leader, 109;
    sin-bearing of, 126;
    sole headship of, 210;
    the Healer, 249;
    did Balaam prophesy of? 310.

  Christian, law, rejection of, 187;
    life, ignorant criticism of, 158;
    limitations of, 393;
    nation, duty of a, 160.

  Church, position of the, 20;
    a national, 21;
    and the irresolute, 107;
    helpers of the, 113;
    perils of, 115;
    mistaken claims of, 176;
    unity of, 203.

  Civilisation without morality, 372.

  Cloud, the pillar of, 89;
    in Isaiah, 90;
    value of, as a symbol, 93.

  Complaints of the Israelites, 119;
    against Providence, 119.

  Conscience paltered with, 278.

  Consciousness, the Divine, 327.

  Convocation, holy, 352.

  Covetousness, 272.


  Daily worship, 345.

  Dathan and Abiram, 195, 205.

  Dead, defilement by the, 53, 220.

  Death, conception of, 3;
    desired, 128;
    triumphed over, 238;
    tests faith, 337.

  Delitzsch, Prof. F., quoted, 357.

  Discipline, the finest, 238;
    of humanity, 325.

  Disorder, social, 165.

  Divination, 263.

  Divine guidance, 268.

  Division of land, 330.

  Drama of life, 330.


  Edom, territory of, 230;
    Israel debarred from, 231.

  Egyptian worship, 43.

  Eleazar, and Ithamar, 31;
    installed as high priest, 241.

  Eldad and Medad, 130.

  Elders, seventy, chosen, 128;
    became critics of Moses, 200.

  Endeavour, law of, 324.

  Enthusiasm of faith, 303.

  Ethiopians, 136.

  Ezekiel, Sabbath law of, 348.


  Faithless is foolish, 161.

  Family feast at new moon, 350.

  Feast, of unleavened bread, 351;
    of Pentecost, 354;
    of tabernacles, 359.

  "Fill the hand," 32.

  First-born, number of, 36;
    sanctity of, 37.

  First-fruits, day of, 354.

  Freedom, illusory, 110;
    under Christianity, 209.

  Future life, 5;
    seems dim, 154;
    right view of, 159.


  Genealogies, 328.

  Gentiles, 266.

  Gershonites, 44.

  Gifts to be proportionate, 181.

  Girls saved alive, 366.

  God, modern doubt of, 163;
    compassion of, 213;
    sole allegiance to, 274, 279;
    the Link of the generations, 326.

  Goël, the, 55, 400.

  Gospel, light of the, 82.

  Government, the Divine, 187.

  Greek tragedy, 2, 3.

  Guardians of religion, 26.


  Heave offering, 184.

  Heaven no fable, 155.

  Hebrew, the recoil of, from death, 4.

  Heifer, the red, 217.

  Hierarchy, establishment of, 208.

  Hierocracy, 6, 363, 403.

  High priest, memory of, 403;
    death of, 404.

  Hobab the Kenite, 104;
    refuses to join Israel, 109;
    second appeal to, 111;
    his influence, 201.

  Holiness, ideas of, 46.

  Holy place, symbolism of, 79.

  Homeborn, the, 181.

  Hor, Mount, 234.

  Hypocrisy, danger of, 281.


  Impotence confessed, 285.

  Iniquity, of tabernacle, 212;
    of priesthood, 214.

  Insincerity, 270.

  Inspiration, 13;
    of prophets, 143;
    of Moses, 144.

  Intrusions on life, 232.

  Irresolute, the, 107.

  Isaiah, 213.

  Israelites, the, separateness of, 7, 295;
    religion of, 9;
    a holy nation, 25;
    not hopeful, 156;
    disaffection of, at Kadesh, 160;
    Moses intercedes for, 169;
    punishment of, not inordinate, 171;
    defiant advance of, on Canaan, 174;
    refused way through Edom, 231;
    no enchantment with, 302;
    unable to convert, 319;
    their advantages, 324;
    purity of race, 328;
    religious enthusiasm of, 353.

  Itinerary, 382.

  Iye-abarim, 250.


  Jealousy, water of, 56.

  Jehovah, King and Judge, 5;
    authority of, 7;
    Guardian, 68;
    in pillar of cloud, 91;
    Protector of Israel, 117;
    His call to Israel, 123;
    communicates with Moses, 144;
    His "similitude," 146;
    pardons but punishes, 170;
    forbearance of, 225;
    worship of, 295;
    revealed to Moses, 335;
    all time dedicated to, 347.

  Jethro, 104.

  Jonah, 226.

  Joshua, jealous for Moses, 132;
    one of the spies, 151;
    in practical command, 244;
    designation of, 339.

  Journal theory, 11.

  Judah in the van, 102.

  Judgment of murmurers, 120.

  Justice, impatient, 315;
    right course of, 316;
    and blood revenge, 401.


  Kadesh, the tribes at, 103;
    mustering at, 222;
    position of, 384.

  Kenites, the, 105, 266, 312.

  Kibroth-hattaavah, 134.

  Kiriath-huzoth, 290.

  Kohathites, duties of, 42.

  Korah, revolt of, 195;
    his claim, 196;
    doom of, 205.


  Land law, 407.

  Laymen, 202.

  Leader, qualifications of a, 340.

  Leaven banished from houses, 352.

  Legislation in Numbers, 12.

  Lepers, exclusion of, 48;
    their condition, 48;
    no pariahs, 51.

  Leprosy, and moral disease, 49;
    cases of, 50;
    of Miriam, 147.

  Levi, tribe of, separate, 7;
    service of 25;
    in Deuteronomy, 33.

  Levites, admitted priests, 33;
    given to Aaron, 34;
    service of the, an atonement, 39;
    consecration of, 40;
    duties of, 42;
    revolt of, with Korah, 201;
    support of, 215;
    cities of, 396.

  Levitical law, 8.

  Liberality Christian, 75.

  Life, close of, 235.

  Lord's Supper, the, 86.


  Manna, complained of, 121;
    glorified, 122.

  March, order of, 97;
    of humanity, 98;
    in the wilderness, 101.

  Marriage, laws, 58;
    of expedience, 280.

  Meal and drink offerings, 180.

  Merarites, duties of, 44.

  Message, the Divine, 219.

  Midianites, 261;
    plot of, against Israel, 313;
    to be vexed, 318;
    war with, 365;
    number of, 368.

  Militarism in Numbers, 17.

  Ministry, a, duties of, 212;
    provision for, 399.

  Miriam, jealousy of, 136;
    punishment of, 147;
    death of, 223.

  Mixed multitude, 121.

  Moab, overrun by Amorites, 254;
    plains of, 260.

  Moral severity, 370.

  Morley, J., quoted, 88.

  Moses, not hero of Numbers, 2;
    no priest, 6;
    reverence for, 16;
    his communion with God, 76;
    acted for Jehovah, 92;
    appeals to Hobab, 105;
    strain on, as leader, 125;
    prays for death, 128;
    magnanimity of, 133;
    position of, 142;
    and Isaiah, 146;
    represented God, 162;
    great offer to, 167;
    authority of, 203;
    coalition against, 204;
    and Korah, 204;
    and Dathan, 205;
    intercedes for Israel, 206;
    at the rock, 225;
    judgment of, 228;
    with Aaron at the last, 240;
    close of his life, 313;
    faith of, 336;
    his order as to Midianites, 367;
    rebukes Reuben and Gad, 374.

  Mustering, the, 18.


  Nabi or prophet, 143.

  Nadab and Abihu, 29.

  Nahshon, 22.

  Napoleon, 285.

  Nature and God, 80.

  Nature-cultus, 313.

  Naziritism, parallels to, 59;
    statutes regarding, 60;
    ceremonies of discharge, 64.

  "Nephesh," 53.

  New moon, 343, 349;
    of seventh month, 355.

  Numbers, the Book of, and prophecies, 1;
    like Greek drama, 2;
    three main channels in, 7;
    Puritanism of, 8;
    sources of, 10;
    time covered by, 11;
    date of, 12;
    as history, 13;
    spirit of, 16.


  Offerings, laws of, 179;
    meal and drink, 344;
    daily, 344.

  Ordeal of jealousy, 57.

  Organisation, idea of, 44.

  Overcrowding, 331.


  Parables of Balaam, 292, 300, 305.

  Pardon and restoration, 171.

  Passover, the Little, 84, 86;
    the, 351.

  Peace, Divine, 70.

  Pentecost, 354.

  Peor, 305.

  Pethor, 261.

  Philanthropy, 373.

  Phinehas, zeal of, 315;
    accompanies the army, 365.

  Pisgah, 299.

  Plato, 5.

  Possessions, 325.

  Price, has each man his? 288.

  Priest, place of, 340, 363.

  Priesthood, the, 29;
    consecration of, 32;
    of Christ, 203;
    human, 208;
    Aaronic, duties of, 212;
    support of, 215.

  Priests' Code, 6, 12, 314, 317, 363, 368.

  Primogeniture, 35.

  Princes, offerings of the, 73.

  Prophesying of the seventy, 130;
    false, 133;
    oracle regarding, 142.

  Prophets, calling of, 45;
    of Old Testament, 143;
    vision of, 306.

  Purification, water of, 216.


  Quails, 129.


  Red Sea, 383.

  Redemption, of first-born, 38;
    signified by the Passover, 86.

  Refuge, cities of, 400.

  Religion, power of, 303.

  Repentance, 287.

  Responsibility of a leader, 126.

  Reuben and Gad, 374;
    their decay, 380.

  Reubenites, the, claim of, 200, 202.

  Rich, dangers of the, 377.

  Righteous, death of the, 296.

  Robertson, F. W., quoted, 320.

  Ruskin, John, quoted, 75.


  Sabbath, the, breach of, 180;
    social aspect of, 189;
    means of unity, 191;
    in Chaldea, 346;
    oblations for, 348.

  Sacerdotalism, 209.

  Sacred, year, 343;
    places, 391.

  Sacrifice, significance of, 360.

  Sanctuary, the, carefully guarded, 43;
    iniquity of, 212.

  Sanctuary, right of, 402.

  Sayce, A. H., quoted, 183, 262, 346.

  Self-consecration, call to, 23.

  Serpents, fiery, 246.

  Service, age of, 23.

  Shechinah, 89.

  Sihon, the Amorite, 253.

  Simeon, tribe of, 330.

  Sin offering, for Nazirite, 64;
    not for moral guilt, 65;
    the, 349;
    a he-goat, 354.

  Sinai, 383.

  Smith, W. Robertson, quoted, 37.

  Spies, the, despatched, 151;
    evil report of, 158;
    doom of the ten, 173.

  Spirit, endowment of the, 130.

  Spiritual maladies, 149.

  Spirituality, 296.

  Standards, 27.

  Strange fire, 31.

  Strangers, 182.

  Symbolism, of Sabbath, 191;
    Christian, 193.

  Sympathy with Christianity, 112.


  Taberah, 120.

  Tabernacles, feast of, 359.

  Tassels, memorial, 192.

  Temple, the, 75.

  Temptations, 371.

  Theocracy, not hierocracy, 6;
    sustained, 319.

  Tithes, 215.

  Transgressors, high-handed, 185.

  Trespass, atonement for, 55.

  Tribes, the, in camp, 27.

  Trumpets, the silver, 95;
    signalled the advance, 97;
    in war time, 99;
    at festivals 100, 355.


  Unbelieving, doom of the, 167.

  Uncleanness, ideas of, 46;
    by leprosy, 48;
    by the dead, 52, 220.

  Unity of Christians, 97.

  Unleavened bread, feast of, 351.

  Urim, 341.


  Vaheb in Suphah, 251.

  Virtue, safety of, 279.

  Vocation of the Christian, 123.

  Vows, 344, 361;
    of women, 362.


  'Wars of Jehovah, Book of,' 251.

  Water fails, 224.

  Way of the soul, 386.

  Well, song of the, 252.

  Wellhausen, J., on theocracy, 6;
    on Korah, 199;
    quoted, 317, 368.

  Wilderness, our life in, 124, 258;
    near Maan, 245;
    discipline of, 256.

  Women, claim of, 139, 332.


  Young, the, hopefulness of, 172.


  Zared, valley of, 251.

  Zelophehad, daughters of, 331, 406.

  Zippor, 262.

  Zophim, 299.




Transcriber's Notes:


Obvious punctuation and spelling errors have been fixed throughout.

Inconsistent hyphenation is as in the original.