But delay is no evidence of indifference; and if justice have hitherto slept, it is to be apprehended it will rise with recruited vigour. While you go on still in your trespasses, be assured the glittering sword is drawing from its scabbard—it is even whetting to the final stroke!



Rebekah.

Chapter V.



Section I.

Progress of Time—Patriarchal mode of Living—Abraham's Solicitude respecting the Settlement of his Son—sends his Servant to procure him a Wife—his Arrival in the Vicinity of Nahor—his Meeting with Rebekah—her Behaviour, and their Conversation—the Good Qualities already discoverable in Rebekah, which render her Worthy of Imitation—her industrious and domesticated Habits—Unaffected Simplicity—Modesty—Courtesy—Humanity.

Rapid, irresistible, and certain is the progress of time. The few incidents of which human life consists, transpire in quick succession; the few years of which it is composed, even in cases of the greatest longevity, soon elapse: the cradle and the grave seem placed very near each other; and scarcely does the voice of congratulation cease at our birth, before it is succeeded by the lamentations of sorrow at our funeral.

There is a wide difference, however, in the actual impression, between passing through the details of existence in daily and hourly engagements, which, from their variety, produce an illusion of slowness and a vague idea of almost interminable continuance, and looking at expended years after their termination, or at successive lives in the perspective of history. In the latter case, events appear crowded together, the intervening spaces are riot distinctly perceptible, and the distance is diminished. If the life of an Abraham, an Isaac, or a Jacob, had been presented to us in the form of a daily journal of occurrences, how easily might it have been expanded into a volume equal in dimensions to the whole inspired record; and how distant would each eventful period of their respective lives have appeared! how vast would have seemed the space between them if minuter circumstances had been formally detailed in the order of months, and days, and hours! Even a single year assumes a considerable magnitude when viewed as three hundred and sixty-five days, each day and night as four-and-twenty hours, each hour as sixty successive minutes, and each minute or hour as occupied with its appropriate and necessary engagements: but when we ascend that elevated spot to which history conducts us, and look back upon the long track of time, and through the course of revolving centuries, we reflect at once on those images of Scripture with which our imagination has been so often arrested, and see that the motion of the "weaver's shuttle" scarcely represents the "swiftness" of our days; the passing shadows that fly across the plain, imperfectly display the nothingness of fleeting years; "the little time" in which the "vapour appeareth," is but faintly expressive of the manner in which life "vanisheth away." It is almost impossible to observe the small number of pages which relate all that is really worth recording, of hundreds and even thousands of years, without being deeply affected. A few chapters suffice to state the principal circumstances relating to the creation, destruction, and renewal of the world; and a single book contains, in addition to this information, the lives of patriarchs the most distinguished, and the account of ages the most eventful and extraordinary. Solemn consideration—"one generation passeth away, and another cometh!"

We have been led into these reflections chiefly by observing how rapidly the inspired writer passes from one event to another in the life of Abraham, though many years intervened; and especially by noticing the immediate connexion in which the death and burial of Sarah are placed with the marriage of Isaac: so nearly allied, so few are the intermediate steps between the most joyful and the most painful events of human existence! A marriage to-day—a funeral to-morrow! This hour congratulated—the next lamented! "Great and marvellous are thy works, O Lord God Almighty: just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints."

The family histories of the patriarchs are rendered peculiarly attractive by the simplicity of their manners, and their pastoral mode of living. We are transported into ages, around which antiquity throws a powerful charm, and revelation an extraordinary lustre. What are scenes of blood, and acclamations of triumph, in comparison with the private history of a man of peace, and a man of piety? what are heroic deeds to virtuous achievements? and what the most splendid page of secular history to the beautiful and interesting account of the various transactions relating to the union of Isaac and Rebekah?

These are so intimately blended together, that the present chapter must embrace at least a brief notice of them, in order to form an adequate idea of the heroine of this inimitable Scripture narrative.

[Sidenote: Years before Christ, 1856]

Abraham had now attained the venerable age of one hundred and forty years; his beloved Sarah was no more; and after weeping over her grave, and negociating for the entire possession of the field of Ephron in Machpelah, where she was interred, as a family burying-place, his thoughts were forcibly attracted towards the day of his own dissolution. "The Lord had blessed him in all things," but his affections were detached from earthly possessions, and permanently fixed upon his unchangeable inheritance in the skies. He "desired a better country, that is, a heavenly; wherefore God was not ashamed to be called his God, for he had prepared for him a city."

Previous to his departure, Abraham felt solicitous respecting the adjustment of his temporal affairs, and particularly the settlement and marriage of his beloved son. Actuated not merely by the common anxiety of a parent, who knows that the credit and happiness of his family depend on the propriety of the connection which he may form; but contemplating with the eye of faith his future posterity, the patriarch called his eldest and confidential servant. This was Eliezer of Damascus, the steward of his house; and, in case of his death, the manager of his affairs. He was, unquestionably, under that divine direction, which in this as in every other concern of life, he anxiously sought. It is pleasing to witness the result which was so evidently connected with the prudence and piety of his proceedings, and which points us to the never-failing promise, "In all thy ways acknowledge him, and lie shall direct thy paths," Isaac is not, indeed, distinctly mentioned, but he was no stranger to prayer; and having attained his fortieth year, he had doubtless felt a laudable anxiety to enter into the honourable state of matrimony, expressed his desires to God, and after concerting the proper measures with his father, patiently waited the will of Providence.

Abraham explained his views to Eliezer, and exacted a solemn oath respecting the punctual fulfilment of his commission, in which some of the characteristic principles of this illustrious saint were conspicuous. In the selection of a wife for his son, he seems uninfluenced by worldly policy. He wishes him to connect him with virtue rather than wealth; knowing that the latter is not only uncertain, but unnecessary to the purposes of real happiness.

It has been often said, there are "few happy matches;" but the cause of this fact is seldom traced or regarded. If our calculations be founded solely upon a reference to temporal interests, if the importance of a connexion be measured merely by the probable amount of gold it may produce, or the degree of worldly influence it is likely to confer, we may add another item to the sum of probabilities—that of disappointment. The inconsistencies into which this strange match-making infatuation has betrayed some of the greatest and best of men, is truly deplorable; and if it do not incur immediate calamity, it certainly excites the divine displeasure. God requires to be honoured in this, no less than in every other transaction.

Abraham also evinced his characteristic aversion of idolatry. He desired his servant not to seek a wife for Isaac in Chaldea, but to proceed to Haran in Mesopotamia, to the house of Nahor his brother. He was particular in requiring him to swear by the Lord, the God of heaven and the God of the earth, that he would not take his son a wife of the daughters of the Canaanites, among whom he resided. The danger of his posterity becoming blended with idolaters, and contracting their habits, induced him to use this solemn precaution; although his faith realized the peopling of this country, by his descendants. His servant put his hand upon his thigh, in confirmation of the agreement, [13] and immediately prepared for his journey. The distance from Hebron, the present residence of Abraham, to Haran, was about seventeen days' journey; and the servant must have travelled about four hundred and sixty miles.

Servants may learn, from this example, the kind of conduct which adorns their station. They should be punctual in the discharge of their duties, and readily comply with the directions they receive. Eliezer felt himself bound to comply with his master's injunctions, and not only proceeded on his distant expedition without reluctance and murmuring, but with that despatch which proves his whole heart was engaged in his duty. If any should plead, that it was, no doubt, a privilege to have such a master, and any one would have been happy in such a situation, let them be reminded that this is a very questionable position; for it is common for servants to disregard the authority, or undervalue the character of the best masters and mistresses; but their duty is not to be measured by the virtue or even the kindness, of their domestic superiors, the apostle expressly ordaining obedience "not only to the good and gentle, but also to the froward."

Upon Eliezer's arrival in the vicinity of the city of Nahor, he made his camels kneel down by a well, intending to supply them as soon as possible with water. The whole retinue was, no doubt, sufficiently weary with the journey. It was evening, and about the customary hour when the women of the country came out to fetch a supply of water. This faithful and pious servant was aware of this circumstance, but, previous to the arrival of any of these strangers, he betook himself to solemn and effectual prayer. His words are remarkable: "O Lord God of my master Abraham, I pray thee send me good speed this day, and show kindness unto my master Abraham. Behold, I stand here by the well of water, and the daughters of the men of the city come out to draw water: and let it come to pass, that the damsel to whom I shall say, Let down thy pitcher I pray thee, that I may drink; and she shall say, Drink, and I will give thy camels drink also; let the same be she that thou hast appointed for thy servant Isaac; and thereby shall I know that thou hast showed kindness unto my master!"

While the words of supplication were still upon the tongue of this worthy servant, behold a damsel of singular beauty approaches the well! It is, in fact, Rebekah, who was born to Bethuel, son of Milcah, the wife of Nahor; and whom an invisible but all-wise Providence had sent at this precise moment, and by this happy concurrence of circumstances, introduced to the travelling stranger. Beautiful, young, and artless; bearing a pitcher upon her shoulder, which she hastened to the well to fill for the necessary supply of the family; we cannot imagine a more finished picture of loveliness, or one to which the Miltonian description of Eve, as first beheld by her admiring partner, is more justly applicable:

"Adorn'd With what all earth or heaven could bestow To make her amiable; on she came Led by her heav'nly Maker, though unseen.

"Grace was in all her steps, heav'n in her eye, In every gesture, dignity and love."

She speedily descended to the reservoir of water, and filled her pitcher. [14] The servant was attracted by her remarkable appearance, for she seemed "like the lily among thorns;" but, at present, remained silent. Intent upon her proper business, she did not indulge an idle curiosity, and waste her time, by stopping to make inquiries respecting the stranger, and his train of camels, which were reclining near the well; nor would she have been detained a moment, had not a motive of kindness prompted her to listen to his solicitations for help. He, at length, hastened to meet her, and requested to drink a little of the water with which she had just replenished her pitcher. This was granted with the utmost readiness; she let down the vessel from her shoulder, and desired him to take whatever he pleased. After this, she kindly offered to supply all his train of camels; and, regardless of the trouble which such officious hospitality occasioned, she did not even wait for a reply, but ran to fill the trough, by repeated draughts of water.

All this time, the man, who, by the way might have rendered this lovely young woman some assistance, stood gazing in silent astonishment. There was so striking a coincidence between her conduct, and the wishes he had been expressing, that he could not help connecting them together. "Wondering at her, he held his peace, to wit whether the Lord had made his journey prosperous or not." It seems strange that he should have felt even a momentary hesitation upon the subject, but it exemplifies the frequent state of our minds respecting anticipated blessings. We seek them with an importunity which procures their communication, but, when actually bestowed, we scarcely believe them to be in our possession, and are too reluctant to recognize the divine bounty. But what has been sought with eagerness ought to be acknowledged with promptitude.

As soon as the camels had been supplied, the good man presented Rebekah with a suitable token of his thankfulness. It consisted of a golden ear-ring, of half a shekel weight, and two bracelets for her hands, of ten shekels weight of gold. These were, probably, the costly ornaments which Abraham had commissioned his servant to bestow upon the future wife of his son; and which, as he had now seen the accomplishment of his prayer, he no longer hesitated to give this interesting young woman.

Availing himself of the present favourable opportunity of entering into some conversation with her, he inquired whose daughter she might be, and whether she thought her father could afford him and his attendants; and camels, sufficient accommodation? In the east this was so common an act of hospitality, that the question did not appear strange, or the request obtrusive. It was, besides, dictated by a strong suspicion, if not a full assurance, that he had attained the object of his journey. She gave a prompt and kind answer: "I am the daughter of Bethuel, the son of Milcah, which she bare unto Naoh. She said, moreover, unto him, we have both straw and provender enough, and room to lodge in," The man bowed in thankfulness to her, but in more expressive praise and gratitude to GOD. His heart was full, and his tongue could no longer remain silent. "Blessed," said he, "be the Lord God of my master Abraham, who hath not left destitute my master of his mercy and his truth. I, being in the way, the Lord led me to the house of my master's brethren." This was the language of faith—he recognizes the divine "mercy and truth" which had promised to multiply and extend the family of Abraham. It was the voice of gratitude—for he remembers the way in which God had conducted him, and sees the concurrence of Providence in all that had transpired. It contained also a delicate intimation to the young women, not only that he came from her venerable relative, but had some important business with her family. Rebekah made all possible haste back, and soon circulated through the family the joyful intelligence of this arrival.

In reviewing what has been hitherto related of this charming story, and the circumstances of the first interview between the servant of Abraham and the future wife of Isaac, we beg to present to our young female readers, a more distinct statement and recommendation of the good qualities discoverable in Rebekah.

1. Observe her industrious and domesticated habits. She was high-born, and had great connections—she possessed a commanding beauty of person and fascination of manners—but yet she did not indulge in indolence, or in frivolous pursuits. At that period luxury and refinement had not corrupted simplicity of manners, the affairs of a family were usually under the more direct inspection and management of its principal members, and custom did not prescribe an avoidance of all careful, nor even of all laborious, interference in domestic concerns. But there was a cheerfulness and an assiduity in the whole deportment of Rebekah, that proved it not merely custom, but a sense of duty that influenced her. She was attentive to her proper business, neither omitting nor performing it negligently. It is very unbecoming to see young persons resisting the wishes of their kind parents, who having had a better experience than themselves, are desirous of training them to domestic usefulness. Ill do they requite parental affection, which has devoted, perhaps, a considerable portion of hard-earned profits to their education in useful branches of knowledge, or to their acquirement of polite accomplishments: by refusing to assist in family arrangements, or to submit to that wise after-discipline, by which they may be prepared to occupy important situations in future life. It is not the proper business of a woman to shine, to court admiration, or to display superficial acquirements; nor, on the other hand, does either reason or religion reduce her to the inferior situation of a domestic drudge; but her education is ill bestowed, and perversely misapplied, if it unfit her for the appropriate duties of her station, if it make her proud and petulent, if it raise her above her sphere, and if it indispose her to a proper "care for the things of the world, how she may please her husband."

In modern times it would be unjust to impute the entire blame to the young women themselves; much is attributable to the system which has been adopted in their education. Nothing indeed can justify, and few things can be said in extenuation of the guilt of an arrogant disposition, unyielding to the wishes of tender though perhaps less educated parents; but it is to be regretted, that the useful is often far less regarded in public seminaries than the ornamental; and that, while the exterior is polished, the mind remains comparatively uncultivated. We shall not be understood to require a total exclusion of elegant instruction, or polite accomplishments; but let the understanding be well directed, the memory amply stored, the judgment constantly exercised, the hands usefully employed, the temper carefully watched and disciplined—above all, let religion and the fear of God be the basis of the whole fabric, that "our daughters may be as corner-stones, polished after the similitude of a palace."—"By daughters families are united and connected to their mutual strength, as the part of a building are by the corner-stones; and when they are graceful and beautiful, both in body and mind, they are then polished after the similitude of a nice and curious structure. When we see our daughters well established, and stayed with wisdom and discretion, as corner-stones are fastened in the building; when we see them by faith united to Christ as the chief corner-stone, adorned with the graces of God's Spirit, which are the polishing of that which is naturally rough, and become women professing godliness; when we see them purified and consecrated to God as living temples, we think ourselves happy in them." [15]

2. We see in Rebekah's interview with the servant of Abraham, a pattern of unaffected simplicity. It is this which throws an inexpressible charm over the narrative. We see nothing but nature; not a particle of false delicacy or finesse. There is no study, no aim to please, no acting a part to court esteem, no suspicions about her, and no concealments; but, in every word and motion, the most perfect artlessness. "When unadorned" she approaches the well to draw the evening supply of water, she seems "adorned the most."

Let young ladies beware of affectation. It is one of the most disgusting qualities that can attach to female character. It will never win esteem, but will excite ridicule. There is reason to believe that it is frequently produced in a gradual and almost imperceptible manner, but it takes the deeper root, and extends the wider influence in consequence of a slow growth. It is not always easy to make the individual herself sensible of possessing it, but the surest way of preventing its baneful influence, is to guard against whatever has a tendency to produce it. Be yourself—simple and natural. The art of pleasing is—to please without art. Aim not to shine in borrowed feathers, or to acquire the peculiarities of another, especially when they are obviously incongruous with your own native character; and avoid thinking of yourself as of a person of great consequence in every circle, for this is a most infallible means of really becoming of no consequence at all.

The only sufficient security against affectation of every kind, is Christian humility. An inspired writer admonishes us to be clothed with it; and, where this is wanting, every attempt to conceal deformities of character will resemble only the thinnest veil, which may be seen through by the most careless observer. This recommendation may possibly appear to some rather antiquated and obsolete; we shall, nevertheless, persist in it, as of essential importance; and support it by quoting the reference of the apostle to him who has best exemplified the principle, and whose Spirit alone can effectually impress it upon the heart: "Let nothing be done through strife or vain glory, but in lowliness of mind, let each esteem other better than themselves. Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others. Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus; who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God; but made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men; and being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross."

3. The modesty of Rebekah was conspicuous. Vain is the effort to obtain admiration, without this quality. Confining the term to the general behaviour of females in society, which is its most common application, it may be considered as opposed to obstrusiveness, and as contradistinguished from bashfulness. Rebekah waited till the servant of Abraham addressed her, before she paid any attention to him; and when he put the questions which have been related, she readily gave him an answer.

Forwardness is so unbecoming the female character, so opposite to all real delicacy of mind, that no intermixture of other qualities can render it tolerable. If it be associated with rare and brilliant powers, or very eminent acquirements, it is calculated to excite envy and hatred, because it never fails to produce an overbearing conduct. But whatever another's consciousness of mental inferiority may be, this unhallowed temper will produce determined resistance. The very worm that crawls upon the earth will resent the giant's tread. If, on the contrary, it be united to shallowness of capacity, it will render its unhappy possessor utterly contemptible notwithstanding other exterior attractions which might otherwise command attention. It is, in this case, the effect of egregious ignorance; and so far from extorting respect, it only serves to expose that inbecility, which, but for this strange mode of attempt at concealment, might have remained, in a considerable measure, undetected.

Genuine modesty is also distinguishable from extreme bashfulness. As the usages of civilized society do, by no means, banish females from social intercourse, it is requisite in avoiding forwardness to retain a certain degree of self-possession. Boldness and excessive timidity are the two extremes to be avoided. The latter is irksome, both to the individual herself, and to others with whom she may be called to associate. It produces an unnatural character, and, perhaps, may be classed with affectation. It is to be feared, that many who blush at the merest trifles, and are confounded at maintaining the least interchange of sentiment, are too little ashamed of sin, and too unacquainted with the state of their own hearts. The young need not be mortified at any deformity but vice, nor afraid even of confessing ignorance, or making inquiries, so long as they show a proper solicitude for improvement. It is, in fact, a consciousness of ignorance that leads to the acquisition of knowledge. It inspires the desire of information, and stimulates to the use of every means of acquiring it; but a vain and conceited mind is really ignorant, and is likely to remain so, while it presumes upon wisdom.

4. Courtesy was another conspicuous feature in the character of Rebekah. The stranger had no sooner requested a little supply of water, than she lets down the pitcher from her shoulder, and manifests the most obliging disposition to render him service. Her whole proceeding evinces good humour and affability in the highest degree, and the "law of kindness is in her tongue." Josephus relates that there were other young females with her, who were asked for water, but refused; and that Rebekah reproved them for their churlishness. Her civilities were connected essentially with her promotion, though she had no selfish purpose in view: they resulted solely from a pure and disinterested generosity of spirit.

Let young women remember that an unfeeling and disobliging temper is unworthy of their character, and opposite to their real interest. It is at once a neglect of duty, and a certain forfeiture of esteem. Courteousness is peculiarly suited to their age and sex, and particularly expected of them. Nor should the exercise of this disposition be restricted merely to their superiors or equals; it ought to characterize their behaviour to their dependents and inferiors. If young people display affability only when in company with others, who move in the same, or in a more elevated sphere of life than themselves, but assume consequence, and betray an arrogant spirit amongst their servants; we cannot but suspect that their good qualities are only apparent, and their motives selfish. The true character of every person is to be learned at home, and at times when no exterior influences operate to make persons different from themselves. Then the mask is taken off, meretricious ornaments are dispensed with, and consequently native qualities appear. Tyrannical conduct may compel obedience, but an amiable spirit alone can command affection, and render servitude pleasant. There are, indeed, great constitutional differences; but it is no apology for petulance to say, it is natural to us, or that we were born irritable. Our constitutional imperfections ought to be carefully watched, and resolutely corrected. Irregularities of temper are capable of being subdued by the vigorous efforts of religious principle. It is possible, by careful and constant discipline, to subdue the most untamed spirit; and is equally politic, because it renders its possessor disagreeable to others, and miserable in herself.

It is on many accounts not only wicked, but foolish, to conduct yourselves with provoking superciliousness towards inferiors. Courtesy is easily practised, and the reverse dangerous to your own peace and comfort. Besides, it is scarcely possible to think of a human being so utterly contemptible, that his esteem is not worth possessing, or so morose that he may not be conciliated by kindness: and in a world in which we are liable to such reverses, and exposed to such reproaches, the friendship of the meanest person may be advantageous. Hence, it is well remarked by Dr. Barrow, "the great Pompey, the glorious triumpher over nations, and admired darling of fortune, was at last beholden to a slave for the composing his ashes, and celebrating his funeral obsequies. The honour of the greatest men depends on the estimation of the least: and the good-will of the meanest peasant is a brighter ornament to the fortune, a greater accession to the grandeur of a prince, than the most radiant gem in his royal diadem. However, the spite and enmity of one (and him the most weak otherwise and contemptible) person, may happen to spoil the content of our whole life, and deprive us of the most comfortable enjoyments thereof; may divert our thoughts from our delightful employments, to a solicitous care of self-preservation and defence; may discompose our minds with vexatious passions; may, by false reports, odious suggestions, and slanderous defamations, blast our credit, raise a storm of general hatred, and conjure up thousands of enemies against us; may, by insidious practices, supplant and undermine us, prejudice our welfare, endanger our estate, and involve us in a bottomless gulf of trouble."

5. We may take occasion, from Rebekah's kindness, to commend another quality for which she was distinguished—humanity to animals. Abraham's servant merely requested some water to quench his own thirst; but she felt for the dumb creatures that attended him, who could only express their wants by signs. She offered to supply his camels, and hastened to fill the troughs, that they might drink. How kind, how considerate was this! There are few persons of a really amiable temper, who do not cherish an attachment to animals; still we should distinguish between a proper attention to their necessities and comforts, and that excessive caressing fondness which is unbecoming a rational being.

But in what language shall we sufficiently denounce cruelty to animals? Are they not the creatures of God; and endowed with capacities both of pain and pleasure? Why should we inflict unnecessary pain, even upon the meanest reptile? Who has given us authority to do so? By what argument, or by what sophistry, shall we seek a justification of such conduct? Why should we abridge the short span of existence allotted to the inferior creation, especially when we recollect that "the spirit of a beast goeth downward;" and that, being destitute of immortality, the whole period of their enjoyment is limited to the short date of their life on earth? It is the mark of a debased mind to seek amusement from the writhings of defenceless creatures, to sport even with the agonies of a fly. Parents and guardians of youth should particularly guard against the encouragement of a principle of cruelty, by allowing this practice. Children should not be suffered to indulge in such abuses, but should rather be taught to set a proper value upon the life and liberty of an animal. The subsequent maltreatment of the lower creation, many of the outrageous passions that in maturer life disgrace the uneducated part of society, and even the cold insensibility to the necessities of others, which so often obtains in the higher circles, may be traced to this early commencement. The future tyrant is formed in the hours of sportive cruelty; and he who in infancy practices on a fly, may in maturity domineer over an empire. It is important to trace evil passions and principles to their origin, to watch their developement and first operations, and, at the earliest possible period, to implant corrective sentiments in the youthful mind.

Solomon represents it as characteristic of "a righteous man," that he is "merciful to his beast;" and if it be censurable to assail the meanest insect which is not positively noxious, how much more to abuse those animals which contribute to our domestic comfort and security? This may be done, not only by beating, goading, and over-driving the laborious ox, or the swift-paced horse, by whom we cultivate our fields, or pursue our commercial concerns; but by stinting them of food, supplying them with insufficient or inferior provender, or leaving them to careless or peculating hands. Jacob was a specimen of kindness to animals—Balaam of brutality. The Mosaic law wisely and mercifully provided for the ox which trod out the corn, an enactment worthy of the supreme legislator, and coincident with the feelings of every humane heart.



SECTION II.

The Servant of Abraham cordially received into the House of Laban—tells his Story—proposes to take Rebekah—Consent of her Family—her Readiness to go—the Interview with Isaac—Rebekah become his Wife—their Anxieties—Birth of Jacob and Esau—Isaac's Death-bed, and Rebekah's unwarrantable Proceedings—her Solicitude respecting her Son's future Conduct.

We left the good old servant of Abraham at the well of water—we listened to his grateful acknowledgments to Heaven for prospering his journey—and we saw the interesting daughter of Bethuel run home to inform her friends of the extraordinary circumstance that had occurred. She had met a stranger—he had accepted her assistance, and presented her with costly ornaments—he had requested the customary rites of hospitality—he had been praying like a servant of the most high God—he had even intimated that he was travelling to fulfil some special commission of his master and their relative, the venerable Abraham! Every heart welcomed the tidings, and mutual congratulation circulated through the family.

Laban, the brother of Rebekah, whoso mercenary spirit viewed with peculiar satisfaction the ear-ring and bracelets which had been presented to his sister, hastened immediately to the well, and gave the messenger of Abraham a warm invitation to his home: "Come in," said he, "thou blessed of the Lord; wherefore standest thou without? for I have prepared the house and room for the camels." If we were quite certain that this pious language was dictated by a proportionable purity of motive, we should be highly gratified with it; but, alas! how common is it to use words of customary congratulation without meaning, and to sacrifice sincerity to politeness!

The man accepted the invitation; his camels were soon ungirded and supplied with provender, water was furnished to wash his feet and those of his men, and the table spread with a plentiful supply of provision for their refreshment. We need not be surprised, however, that he refuses to eat till he has introduced the important business upon which he came! the good man's heart is overflowing, and he prefers the discharge of his duty before his "necessary food." O that all our obedience to God were characterized by a similar zeal and fidelity!

"Speak on," said Laban: upon which, with admirable skill and perfect ingenuousness, he recounts a series of simple facts, interweaving his narrative with such touching arguments as proved irresistible: he stated without the vanity of a superior domestic who was actually the steward of the family, that he was "Abraham's servant;" and then proceeds to mention, not his own exploits, or merit, or influence, but the opulence and prosperity of his master; his becoming great and rich in "flocks and herds, and silver and gold, and men-servants and maid-servants, and camels and asses," he devoutly ascribes to "the Lord:" but at the same time gives the fact a prominence in his discourse well calculated to conciliate the persons he addressed, and prepare them for his subsequent statements. He now proceeds to mention Isaac, taking care to intimate the weighty considerations, that he was the son of the illustrious patriarch whom he served, by Sarah his beloved wife; born at an advanced period of their lives, and therefore young, as well as the child of promise, and heir of all the wealth which his master possessed. He then explicitly refers to the solemn oath by which he had been bound to seek a wife for his son; not amongst the idolatrous Canaanites near his own residence, but amongst his kindred in Haran. Dear is the name of kindred, especially when families are separated at such distances of time and space from each other, that they scarcely expect to meet again in an unbroken circle, and renew the embraces of friendship. It is then the tenderest sensibilities are excited, the fondest remembrances renewed, and the heart becomes accessible to every endearing impression!

Eliezer, having now gained the ear and won the regard of the listening circle, next adverts to the conversation which had passed previously to the commencement of his journey; in which he exhibits to great advantage the faith of his master Abraham, and the particular direction of his wishes, By repeating the story of his interview with Rebekah at the well, in connexion with the command to seek a wife for Isaac among the kindred of the family, he points at once to the object he had in view, and appeals to their piety in estimating the movements of Providence. They must consider whether all these concurring circumstances were not evidences of a divine interposition, and whether some important consequences were not likely to result from the proposed connexion: "And now, if you will deal kindly and truly with my master, tell me; if not, tell me; that I may turn to the right hand or to the left." In all this the very spirit of his master is conspicuous in the servant; he had not lived with Abraham in vain; a similar fear of God was before his eyes, and the same solicitude to fulfil the duties of his station; he could not eat, he could not drink, till he had disburdened his full heart, and ascertained the probability of success in his important mission.

Every servant may here take a lesson of fidelity to his master on earth, and every servant of Christ especially, who sustains the ministerial character, may see a fine specimen of the ardour, energy, and affection with which it becomes him to execute his high commission. This delicate service upon which Abraham's servant was sent to Nahor, was honourably discharged; but how much more "he that winneth souls is wise!"

What could the friends of Rebekah say to the appeal they had heard? Laban and Bethuel were overwhelmed. There was a mysterious singularity in the whole train of circumstances, calculated to impress the most indifferent and superficial mind, and they bowed to the interposing wisdom of the Supreme Disposer. As soon as the solemn feeling produced by such an extraordinary narrative was sufficiently regulated to permit them to speak, they joined in expressions of devout acknowledgment and submissive consent; "The thing proceedeth from the Lord; we cannot speak unto thee bad or good. Behold, Rebekah is before thee; take her and go, and let her be thy master's son's wife, as the Lord hath spoken."

This was a moment of exquisite satisfaction; but whence did it originate? Not surely so much in worldly as in religious considerations. The period was arrived, that anxious period to the parent, for the marriage of his lovely Rebekah; and now he was satisfied with the disposal of her to a distant relation. A worldly mind would have rejoiced indeed in the outward suitability of the match, but especially in the flattering prospect of great possessions which it presented. These inferior views too generally and too exclusively influence matrimonial alliances; the hearts both of the young and the aged are captivated by the splendours of life, as if they necessarily secured the possession of real happiness, or as if they could compensate for the absence of those mental and moral qualities which can alone constitute the basis of substantial comfort. But in the present instance, whatever pleasure might be lawfully derived from the assurances which were given of the opulence of Abraham, and from the endearing circumstance of the already existing relationship between the two families, it was the perception of a Providence, superintending and guiding the whole arrangement, that occasioned these most delightful feelings; it was not an idolatrous, but a pious connexion, and God had given the most striking indications of his will.

Let parents remember, that with whatever temporal prosperities they may connect their beloved daughters, there is no security for permanent happiness without real religion; and let children consider, that if the fear of God do not possess their own breasts, and influence their matrimonial choice, the delirium of pleasure will soon be past, and a sense of inexpressible vacuity be left behind. The world is a gay deceiver, and life a fleeting dream; the mists of illusion which gather over the morning of existence, gradually disappear as the day advances; and this imagined scene of enchantment, this fairy-land of pleasure subsides into the reality of a thorny wilderness. The only preparation for such a change, is a piety which seeks its happiness on high, and knows that no earthly condition can form a paradise without the presence of the blessed God.

The faithful servant, having adored the divine goodness for thus evidently prospering his way, gave suitable presents to this happy family; jewels of silver, and jewels of gold, and raiment, were presented to the young and beautiful bride elect, and "precious things" to her mother and brother: after this he could eat, necessary food being sweetened by temporal and spiritual blessings.

The next morning, faithful to his commission, and eager to return, he presses for a dismission, to which we need not wonder that the brother and mother object, requiring him to remain at least ten days: still he urges his request, and pleads that the Lord had prospered his way: but how natural is their reluctance to part in a moment from so dear a daughter, never perhaps to see her face again! They at length agree to defer the decision of the affair to herself: Rebekah, with all the frankness so remarkable in her whole deportment, instantly replied, "I will go."

It may appear mysterious, that when her parents pleaded only for a few days, when modesty would even seem to have dictated a little delay; and when filial tenderness must have powerfully resisted so sudden and immediate a departure, that she should express so prompt a compliance, without even stipulating for a single day. Something perhaps may be justly imputed to the times, but far more to the religious state of her own mind; a sense of duty overwhelmed a feeling of reluctance, together with every inferior consideration. She was doubtless in the habit of daily intercourse with God, and in fervent prayer had sought divine direction: she saw an overruling providence—God was in the affair—his finger, visible to the eye of faith, pointed out the way in which she should go, and with unhesitating obedience she confessed her readiness to part with all the felicities of home to seek a distant alliance, at the voice of that sovereign Power to whom she committed her future destiny. Flattering as the scene before her must have appeared to a mere worldly eye, the sacrifices she made at this moment of compliance were certainly most considerable. What could have led to such an answer, when standing between the tears, the tenderness, the entreaties of parental and fraternal affection, and the urgency of a mere stranger, the servant too of her future house—but a faith which overcame the world, and dictated her holy resolution? Heaven appointed her journey, and nature pleaded in vain.

To every reader we recommend the noble principle which actuated this young heroine. Let inclination bow to a sense of duty—let God be obeyed rather than man—let not only authority be resisted, but even the fondest endearments sacrificed to the divine requirements. Apply this principle to a higher occasion, and remember that the Son of God has declared, "If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple; and whosoever doth not bear his cross and come after me, cannot be my disciple."

How tender, how affectionate is the parting scene! How the heart speaks in every word! The whole group seems placed before our eyes; and we witness the tears that flow, the sighs that heave each bosom; we seem to hear the faltering yet fond accent, in which the dear forsaken family pronounce the last benediction, "Thou art our sister; be thou the mother of thousands of millions, and let thy seed possess the gate of those which hate them."

Behold Rebekah, quitting the scene of her infancy and youth; Painful was the sacrifice, but pleasant the service: a thousand objects would revive the remembrance of past occupations and occurrences; a thousand circumstances rush into her memory; her susceptible mind would often retrace the scenes once so familiar, now to be abandoned for ever; affection would often recal the names of Bethuel and Laban, and filial tenderness would weep at the thought of maternal anxiety. She was about to commit her happiness to the disposal of another—to form another connexion—to seek another home—the young plant was removed by Providence to take root in a new soil and situation. This is always a moment of trial, and in the usual manner of estimating life, an experiment of doubtful issue; but he who "commits his way to the Lord," and "leans not to his own understanding," but at the call of duty, in the spirit of prayer, dissolves or forms connections, may reasonably hope for the "blessing which maketh rich" in all the essentials of happiness. Young people! venture not upon a single step without a previous application for guidance to the "throne of grace," lest by inconsideration and rashness you forfeit the favours you might have secured by piety. At your eventful period of life the transactions of one day are likely to affect the welfare many succeeding years; and if you would reap a future harvest of joy, you must sow in present tears and prayers.

No incident of the journey is mentioned till the cavalcade was nearly arrived at Hebron; they then saw a person walking in a thoughtful attitude; and Rebekah, suspecting probably that he might be one of the household establishment of Abraham, inquired of the servant, "What man is this that walketh in the field to meet us?" The servant informed her that it was his young master, the son of Abraham; he was come into the field for the purposes of meditation and prayer. She instantly took a veil and covered herself, alighting from the camel. This was done in compliance with the usages of the times, as a part of the ceremonial belonging to the presentation of a bride to her intended husband: the eastern brides are generally veiled in a particular manner upon such occasions. This custom seems at once expressive of female modesty and subjection.

Isaac appears to have avoided addressing her when he perceives the veil, but taking the servant aside, he learns from his mouth the long and pleasing tale of every circumstance in his journey; he participates the general feeling, and with emotions of gratitude and gladness conducts his Rebekah into the tent of Sarah, whose loss he had so deeply regretted, that now for the first time, he was comforted respecting it. After the customary mode, Rebekah became his wife, and he loved her. [16]

Peace be to that dwelling, the residence of a dutiful son and a tender husband—a kind, generous, open-hearted, pious wife! Dear were the ties of nature which united them, but still dearer the bonds of religion! It was a day they never could forget—it was a friendship that could never be dissolved! What could be wanting to complete their bliss? Approving friends, reciprocal attachment, concurring providences, smiling heaven, sanctioned the proceeding. At present their cup was full to the brim—not a bitter ingredient mingled in the portion. But while we congratulate their situation, let us imitate their example; and if we would participate a similar felicity, cherish a similar spirit: we may be fully assured that real piety will sweeten the pleasures and possessions of life; it may even prevent, and will certainly sanctify, disappointments.

We are, however, easily misled; looking only at the outward appearance, (and in general little more can be known of the history of families,) it is common to fancy the prosperous, and persons of the greatest connections, really possessed of the most abundant share of happiness. In some cases every earthly good seems to be the allotted portion, and we are ready to imagine that sorrow has found no means of access, no door of admission: but a very slight knowledge of the world is sufficient to ascertain that there is a "crook in every lot," and that this world is not the destined abode of unmingled enjoyment. This remark is exemplified in the history of Isaac and Rebekah. Twenty years elapsed, and they had no children: this must have been a severe affliction, not only because at that period a general hope of being connected with the Messiah led all pious persons to be solicitous of a family, but because Isaac was the son of promise, the multiplication of his seed was distinctly recorded, and he had formed his matrimonial connection in the fear of God. As he partook of the trial, he seems to have been endowed with the spirit of his illustrious father; though he lived childless, he did not cherish despondency, but "entreated the Lord for his wife," which was the only effectual means of procuring the blessing.

[Sidenote: Years before Christ, 1836.] His prayer was heard; but this new favour was attended with unusual anxieties, which proved signs of future events. She ultimately bore twins, of which the elder was destined to serve the younger. As names were usually given in reference to the circumstances attending the birth of children, so Esau signified red, in allusion to his colour, and Jacob signified the supplanter. Esau, and his posterity the Edomites, were of a sanguinary disposition, and peculiarly hostile to Israel; Jacob supplanted his brother in the birthright; Esau was "a cunning hunter, a man of the field;" Jacob, a "a plain man, dwelling in tents."

From the earliest period of their lives we may trace the existence of those partialities in the two parents which have so frequently disquieted the otherwise most harmonious families. The Scriptures assign a particular cause for the fondness which Isaac cherished for Esau, which seems a most lamentable weakness in so venerable a man: it arose from his eating of his venison; for he was given to the indulgence of his appetite. Surely when we observe how the greatest of men have been guilty of some of the most unaccountable littleness, it should awaken us to holy jealousy over ourselves, and induce us to establish a system of constant, laborious, and impartial self-inspection.

The occasion of Rebekah's partiality is not distinctly recorded; it might possibly have originated in his being more domestic, and attentive to herself. [17] The usual effects resulted from these partialities: Isaac was blind to the sins of his son, who soon pursued a course of conduct that occasioned both his parents the deepest grief; while Rebekah's fondness involved herself and her favourite child in the greatest criminality.

[Sidenote: Years before Christ, 1750.]

Having attained an advanced period of life, and becoming conscious of increasing infirmities, Isaac took measures to convey the patriarchal benediction and the blessings of the covenant to his posterity. With this view he called his eldest son, and in accents of fondness requested him to go and procure him that savoury kind of food to which he was so partial; after which he expressed his intention of pronouncing the blessing, and thus securing for him, as he imagined, the mercies of the Abrahamic covenant. Overhearing this conversation, Rebekah thinks of her favourite son, and instantly devises a plan to supersede his elder brother. This was, indeed, conformable to the determination of Providence; but is no justification of her sinful policy. If it were even her intention to accomplish the divine promises, the plea would not vindicate her doing evil, that good might come.

Her object being to countervail the design of her husband, she instantly commences a system of manoeuvring to carry her point. We must consider her now as under a particular temptation, and evidently acting inconsistently with the natural ingenuousness of her character, no less than with the principles of her religion. The proper course would have been that of persuasion, entreaty, or remonstrance; but under the apprehension that Isaac's extravagant attachment to his darling child would render this unavailable, she deviates at once from the path of rectitude to gain her purpose. It is most unfortunate when the heads of families are influenced by opposite wishes, and refuse a fair, candid exposition of their own views to each other. Confidence is the basis of friendship, and in no case should be cherished with more assiduous care than in domestic life.

Active in the execution of a scheme she had so promptly devised, Rebekah states to Jacob all that had passed between his father and his elder brother; proposing, or rather commanding him to go to the flock with all possible despatch, and fetch two kids of the goats; "and I," says she, "will make them savoury meat for thy father, such as he loveth; and thou shall bring it to thy father, that he may eat, and that he may bless thee before his death." Jacob hesitates—not, however, as we could have wished, at the execution of the plan; but solely because he is apprehensive of its failing, and producing unhappy consequences. Jacob was pacified by his mother's offer to run all hazards, and incur the whole responsibility of the transaction. She reiterates her request with all the fervour that a better cause should have inspired; and has not long to wait in a state of irksome suspense, before the favourite of her excessive affection returns with the kids. Not a moment is to be lost—every thing is put in requisition—the savoury meat is soon prepared. The hunter's speed is outstripped by management and artifice—in vain he toils over the lengthening field. Jacob is introduced, by his mother, into Isaac's apartment, clothed in the goodly raiment of Esau, covered on the more exposed parts of the body with the skins of the kids, to make him resemble his hairy brother; and presents the food with due formality and dissembling eagerness to the blind old patriarch. Some suspicions, however, are awakened—"Who is it?"—"I am Esau, thy first-born."—"How can this be—how quickly thou hast returned?"—The young man blushes and trembles—but he must either confess or persevere—there was no alternative—the mother's eyes probably intimated that he must persist in his deception. Awful to relate! he ascribes his good success, personating Esau, to "the Lord." Isaac pursues other measures to obtain satisfaction. His voice appears altered, and he begs to feel his son—the falsehood silences, but does not satisfy him. At length, he is persuaded—he blesses him, and eats the venison. Though the dupe of atrocious artifice, Isaac is, nevertheless, under supernatural direction, and was afterwards unable to revoke his benediction.

But what did Rebekah gain by this detestable contrivance? She saw, indeed, her favourite son inheriting the blessing; but this would have descended upon him without her interference, according to the predeterminations of Providence. She saw also a just recrimination upon her deceit on the part of observant Heaven. The original dislike of the two brothers was kindled into a raging flame. Esau burned with indignation at being thus cajoled, and resolved to avail himself of the day of mourning for his father, to satiate his resentment in his brother's blood: and Rebekah, to save both their lives, was obliged to send her guilty, but favourite son, to a distance. Thus were the latter days of both the parents imbittered by their indiscreet and criminal partialities!

After the departure of Jacob, the fond mother becomes not merely solicitous for his safety, but anxious respecting his future conduct. She reflects on the temptation to form an idolatrous alliance to which he might become exposed, unchecked by parental authority, and under circumstances which would naturally induce him to seek a shelter from the storm of adversity in the bosom of conjugal endearment. If the language of Rebekah, upon this occasion, be tinctured with impatience, we cannot but feel gratified to see it founded upon religious sentiment. "And Rebekah said to Isaac, I am weary of my life, because of the daughters of Heth: if Jacob take a wife of the daughters of Heth, such as these which are of the daughters of the land, what good shall my life do to me?"

We are unwilling to part with Rebekah precisely at this point of her history; but here it is that the sacred narrative drops her name. It is written, however, we doubt not, on the imperishable pages of another volume, which is emphatically styled, "the Lamb's book of life."

This abrupt termination suggests, amongst other considerations, the truth of the narrative. If it had been the purpose of the writer to exhibit the subject of his story to the admiration of posterity, or to display his own powers, rather than to represent fact or record instructive biography, he would have carefully avoided whatever tended to diminish the interest of the whole, and give it an unfinished appearance. By concealing some of the more unsightly parts of the picture, and by rendering prominent others of a more attractive character, he might have contrived to accomplish an effect, though at the expense of truth and reality. But the sentiments and prepossessions of the writer disappear from the narrative of Scripture. There is no effort to conceal any facts which may be supposed to weaken the general impression, or to introduce explanatory or encomiastic statements which may be thought to strengthen and enhance it. In every page, in every sentence, it is apparent that the great object is instruction, and not amusement. The historian has no private views—no partialities—no misconceptions—the pen of inspiration is dipped in the fountain of truth, and "holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost."

Let the sad inconsistencies which disgrace the closing part of Rebekah's history, awaken every reader to a just sense of the importance of a persevering uniformity of character. It is of great consequence, that we adorn the religion we profess, and that our light shine more and more—that we grow in grace as we advance in years, and that we do not resemble the changing wind or the inconstant wave. Let us improve the failure and irregularity of others to the purpose of self-examination; and, while we neither extenuate nor aggravate their faults, aim to avoid them. We have enough to encourage, yet sufficient to caution us, A life of unblemished piety is almost as rare an occurrence, as a day of unclouded brightness; but many such adorn the annals of the church, and the grace of God is fully competent to multiply their number.



Miriam.

Chapter VI.



Proceedings of the new King of Egypt—Birth of Moses—Conduct of Miriam—Preservation of Moses—Escape of Israel—Miriam's Zeal in celebrating the Event—her Character formed by early advantages—Contrasted with Michal—she engages with Aaron in a Plot against Moses—God observes it—Trial—Punishment of Leprosy inflicted upon Miriam—her Cure—dies at Kadesh—general Remarks on Slander—debasing Nature of Sin—Hope of escaping Punishment fallacious—Danger of opposing Christ—Exhortation to imitate the Temper of Moses.

The family of Amram was distinguished by a very striking peculiarity. All the three younger branches of which it consisted, Aaron, Moses, and Miriam, because eminent in ancient Israel. Their history is considerably intermingled; but the latter, from the design of this work, will claim our chief attention.

[Sidenote: Years before Christ 1571.]

Sixty-four years had elapsed from the death of Joseph, when the "new king over Egypt," influenced by an ill-founded jealousy of the Israelites, adopted one of those measures to which weak and wicked princes are sometimes excited by an unhappy combination of bad counsel, and mean-spirited perverseness. Instead of regarding this people, who had been prodigiously multiplied by a series of unexampled prosperities, as the most valuable portion of his subjects, and the best security to his crown; this Pharaoh was jealous of their strength, and determined to weaken it by a course of systematic oppression. This he called "dealing wisely with them;" whereas it would have been infinitely wiser, even upon principles of mere political prudence, to say nothing of justice and humanity, to have conciliated by kind treatment, rather than have exasperated by barbarous exactions, six hundred thousand of his subjects!

His plan was, in the first place, to set over them taskmasters, to afflict them with extraordinary burdens; but, to his extreme mortification, "the more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and grew." Still his obstinacy did not permit the least relaxation of that rigorous discipline he had imposed: although, while he imbittered their lives, he failed of promoting his own interest. Disappointment exasperated his malignity; and he issued orders to certain Hebrew women, of whom Shiphrah and Puah are named as the principal in their office, to destroy every male child that should be born. They ventured, however, to disobey this mandate; the fear of God not allowing them to commit murder, though enjoined to do so by royal authority. The king called them to an account for their disobedience, and "charged all his people, saying, Every son that is born ye shall cast into the river, and every daughter ye shall save alive." When we have such an awful display of the excess of human passions, that fearful band of banditti that is for ever disturbing the peace of society, it should inspire us with holy solicitude to suppress the first emotions of sin in our hearts, and to aspire after the dignity and the bliss of dominion over ourselves. Alas! how many who have been victorious over foreign powers, could never achieve this nobler conquest of internal depravity!

The command of Pharaoh to his too tractable slaves, introduces us to the story of the birth and preservation of Moses. His mother—unenviable name in this sad season of calamity!—his weeping mother, by a thousand schemes, such as maternal fondness and ingenuity would naturally devise to save the little darling of her heart, contrived to conceal this "goodly child" for the space of three months; but finding it impossible to hide him any longer, she took him—and with what feelings, say, ye tender-hearted mothers!—to the river Nile.

—"A dealing parent lives In many lives; through many a nerve she feels; From child to child the quick affections spread, For ever wand'ring, yet for ever fix'd. Nor does division weaken, nor the force Of constant operation e'er exhaust Parental love. All other passions change With changing circumstances; rise or fall, Dependent on their object; claim returns; Live on reciprocation, and expire, Unfed by hope. A mother's fondness reigns, Without a rival, and without an end."

H. MORE.

Miriam, an interesting actor upon this occasion, accompanied her mother. Willing to adopt every possible expedient, even at this last extremity, the afflicted parent had prepared a little boat of bulrushes, which grew plentifully on the bank; and, making it water-proof by the use of pitch and tar, she put the child into it, committed it to the uncertain elements, and retired from the heart-rending scene. Poor Miriam, his sister, supposed to be at this time about ten or twelve years of age, was placed at a distance to watch the event. Dear little sentinel! what heart can refuse to pity thy sad employment! who does not sympathize with thy sorrow, and begin to mourn with thee for thy anticipated bereavement! Imagination listens to strains which seem to strike upon the ear of distant ages:

"The flags and sea-weeds will awhile sustain Their precious load, but it must sink ere long; Sweet bade, farewell! Yet think not I will leave thee. No, I will watch thee, till the greedy waves Devour thy little bark."

The dispensations of Providence are indeed considerably diversified; but at what an early period does affliction familiarize itself, even with the happiest family! Behold Moses, in his cradle of bulrushes, exposed to the waters and the crocodiles of the Nile! Behold his little sister at some distance, participating the cares of her mother, and already at the outset of life deluged with a storm of grief. She had learned to love the babe—she had fondled it, and felt the kindlings of sisterly affection—and at an age just sufficiently advanced to realize something of the nature and extent of her loss, the new-born infant is torn from her heart by the hands of sanguinary violence. It was because he was a Hebrew child. His danger, and the distress of Miriam and her mother, arose from their belonging to the persecuted Israelites; but with all their disadvantages in this unfriendly world, let the children of pious parents rejoice, even amidst their tribulations and reproaches, in being connected with the people of God. It is an honour which, however at present overlooked, will hereafter be fully appreciated, both by those who have desired and those who have despised it!

At this juncture, the daughter of Pharaoh, to whom Josephus has given the name of Thurmutis, came down with her maidens to the river-side; and perceiving the frame of bulrushes, sent her servant to fetch it. Upon opening it the little stranger wept. Her heart was touched with compassion, and she said, "This is one of the Hebrew children."

Miriam, all observant and alert, seized the happy moment, introduced herself, or perhaps she was called by the royal lady; but dexterously contrived to propose her going to call a Hebrew nurse to nourish and rear it as her adopted child. Divinely influenced by him who has all hearts in his hands, and moves them by his secret touch, she consents; and who should the well-instructed young messenger bring, but the babe's own mother! Pharaoh's daughter intrusted the adopted stranger to her care, and pays her for a service which she would willingly have rendered even at the hazard of her life. The child grew, and, from the expression of the sacred historian, appears to have become a favourite with this illustrious princess. "And she called his name Moses; and she said, Because I drew him out of the water." Such is the story, which needs none of the Rabbinical embellishments to make it additionally interesting or wonderful.

Miriam is next introduced to us upon an occasion the most remarkable that ever occurred in the history of the world. Miracle after miracle had been performed by the instrumentality of Moses, ere the infatuated king of Egypt could be persuaded to dismiss the children of Israel; and no sooner had he given his consent to their removal, than taking an immense army he pursued them to their encampment, which was by the sea, beside Pihahiroth, before Baal-Zephon. The terrified fugitives complained to their leader, who presented fervent supplications to Heaven for their deliverance. The ear of mercy heard; he was commanded to take his rod, and stretch it over the waters, upon the assurance that they should instantly divide, and present a dry channel, over which they might safely pass. Awed by a divine [Sidenote: Years before Christ, 1491.] power the retiring waves became a wall of defence on either side, while the pillar of a cloud guided their adventurous march. During the night, the Egyptian and Israelitish armies were kept asunder, in consequence of the cloud affording a miraculous light to the one, and shedding disastrous darkness upon the other. Pharaoh, obdurate and furious, led on his troops into the new-formed channel; and already by anticipation seized in the grasp of his mighty malice, the prey which he intended to tear and devour. "And it came to pass, that in the morning-watch the Lord looked upon the host of the Egyptians through the pillar of fire and of the cloud, and troubled the host of the Egyptians, and took off their chariot-wheels, that they drave heavily: so that the Egyptians said, Let us flee from the face of Israel: for the Lord fighteth for them against the Egyptians. And the Lord said unto Moses, Stretch out thine hand over the sea, that the waters may come again upon the Egyptians, upon their Chariots, and upon their horsemen. And Moses stretched forth his hand over the sea, and the sea returned to his strength when the morning appeared; and the Egyptians fled against it; and the Lord overthrew the Egyptians in the midst of the sea. And the waters returned, and covered the chariots, and horsemen, and all the host of Pharaoh that came into the sea after them; there remained not so much as one of them."

What a scene did the light of morning exhibit to Israel! Pharaoh's chariots, his chosen captains, and all his host, had perished; "the depths had covered them, they sank into the bottom as a stone." But, as if the waters refused to harbour even the bodies of these enemies of the people of God, they were no sooner drowned than thrown, by the indignant billows, upon the sea-shore. See their ranks broken, their persons disfigured, their glory for ever extinguished! Their unburied and unpitied remains proclaim how fearful a thing it is to fall into the hands of God, and how dangerous it is to venture upon "touching" his people, which is, in effect, "touching the apple of his eye."

Anxious to celebrate so miraculous a victory, a victory achieved without a battle, and by the special interposal of an omnipotent arm, Moses composed that celebrated song of thanksgiving which is recorded in the fifteenth chapter of the book of Exodus. It is remarkable, not only on account of its intrinsic excellency, but as being composed six hundred and forty-seven years before the birth of Homer, the best of heathen poets, and, therefore, the most ancient piece of poetical composition in the world. It is characterized by the beauty and boldness of its imagery, the strength of its language, and the piety of its sentiments. If brought into comparison with the finest specimens of human genius that have since delighted mankind, its superiority must instantly be established.

According to the practice of the age, Miriam, with whom we are particularly concerned at present, appeared at the head of the women to congratulate Israel upon this splendid event, in responsive strains and dances. She was anxious only to aid the universal joy, and express in every possible manner her accordance of sentiment with that of her two illustrious brothers, Moses and Aaron, and the thousands of Israel. Happy was it for Miriam, that, instead of leading the unhallowed and prostituted festivities of heathen gods, she was "educated in the Jews' religion;" and, from infancy to maturer years, had been taught to sing the praises of the great I AM! Nor did she merely mingle her undistinguishable notes of joy with her country-women and her nation; but, from the ardour of her zeal, and the general superiority of her character, she took the lead in these devotional raptures. Her early advantages, and her pious connexions, had contributed essentially to the formation of her future character. They not only contributed to impress a holy bias upon her mind, but to prepare and mould her into that characteristic pre-eminence, by which she occupied so conspicuous a station among the Israelites, and was ranked with their two illustrious leaders. [18] What might not be anticipated from the singular concurrence of such means in her favour? She was the sister of a man who refused the honours of a court, and perhaps of a crown, to incur a voluntary degradation with the afflicted people of God; and with him she enjoyed a familiar and incessant intercourse. She had, besides, received her earliest lessons in the school of adversity, and was become an eminent proficient in sacred knowledge.

Let us duly appreciate, but be cautious of overrating, the advantage of religious education. It did not necessarily follow, from the means which Providence so amply and so graciously dispensed to Miriam, that she should become a truly religious person, much less that she should acquire such distinction in Israel; but while we gratefully admit, that good instruction is calculated to effect the best results, and will commonly produce them, it does not infallibly secure the end; nor can it at any time prove available, independently of the blessing of God. With the use of that system of means which is established in the providential arrangements of Heaven, his concurring sanction may be expected; although, to show the impotency of mere means, and to fulfil the secret purposes of the divine government, they are sometimes totally inefficient. It was the privilege of Miriam to be born an Israelite, and to have pious relatives; and it is our advantage to live in an age, and to be born in a country, blessed with the pure light of the Christian revelation. But religion is personal in its nature; and unless our advantages be improved, it is in vain that we have possessed them. Providence may give us Abraham for our father, and impenitence may incur perdition for our portion! It was to the most distinguished, and to the most boasting of the Jewish fraternity, that Jesus Christ afterward declared, "I know you, that ye have not the love of God in you."

The conduct of Miriam, on the triumphal occasion already mentioned, exhibits a striking contrast to that of Michal, the daughter of Saul, when at a subsequent period, the ark of God was brought from the house of Obed-edom into the city of David. Harps, psalteries, timbrels, cornets, cymbals, and all kinds of musical instruments, were put in requisition upon that interesting day; and David disarraying himself of the dress of royalty, and substituting the lighter linen vestment of the priest, danced before the ark in a devout ecstacy. But Michal, instead of uniting in the shouts of universal gladness, and extolling her husband's humility and zeal, addressed him in this taunting language, "How glorious was the king of Israel to-day, who uncovered himself to-day in the eyes of the handmaids of his servants, as one of the vain fellows shamelessly uncovereth himself!" From David's vindication of his behaviour, and from the punishment inflicted on this inconsiderate woman, we perceive how little capable irreligious characters are of estimating the nature and value of those extraordinary acts of piety, for which eminent saints have been always distinguished; and how displeasing to God is their proneness to vilify those whom they ought rather to admire. In the present instance, however, Miriam inspires the song, and leads the dance, vying with the other sex in expressions of praise, and recognizing with equal joy an interposing Providence. While Moses exclaims, "I will sing unto the Lord;" Miriam, with no tardy zeal, utters the responsive and animating strain, "Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously, the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea."

Union in religious exercises is conducive to holy pleasure, and no sight can he more gratifying than that of brethren and sisters engaging with heart and voice in the praises of God. Within the small circle of a single family, what a considerable portion of happiness—such as the world cannot possibly supply—is dispensed, when every heart is in tune to devotion, and no discordant sympathies blend with the universal feeling of pious delight. It resembles a young plantation, which the gentle gales of the south bend in the same direction—all under the same divine influence, all tending to the same point. But never had witnessing spirits before beheld such a scene on earth, as that of a whole nation assembled to celebrate the praises of Jehovah—never till the day of deliverance from the Red Sea, had they before listened to such acclamations as those of all the tribes and tongues of the thousands of Israel united in one general, instantaneous, and harmonious song. Now a world, which having been characterized by its apostacy, was marked by signs of displeasure—a world from which only a few notes of holy praise, a few strains of sincere devotion, had ascended to heaven from individual saints during the long course of more than two thousand five hundred years—seemed beginning to redeem its character; and rise to the dignity of serving God!

If blessed spirits were not permitted to break silence, and mingle their congratulations with man, as they did when incarnate mercy descended to Bethlehem, who can doubt the reality of their sympathy and satisfaction, when the songs of Moses and Miriam were thus emulating "the song of the Lamb?" Faith travels onward to a future and still happier day, when every redeemed individual, from amongst men, shall be permitted to utter his voice in the great chorus of eternity, in which the millions of the human race, who have "washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb," shall unite with the unfallen universe in the praises of Heaven. By the visions of the apocalypse, we are admitted to a view of the employments of that celestial state, and the very prospect of it is highly calculated to kindle a warm devotion. How truly trifling do all the pursuits of time appear to the exercises and enjoyments of happy beings around the throne, who, elevated above this mortal sphere, behold the unveiled glories of God and the Lamb, and drink immortal bliss from "the fountain of living waters." The many angels round about the throne, and the living creatures and elders, whose number is ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands, are represented as uniting in the same immortal song, adoring the same Lord, and celebrating the same redemption. It is thus—exhilarating anticipation!—the devotions of time will expand into the songs of eternity; thus the services of earth issue in the raptures of heaven!

The course of the history of Israel at length introduces us to a very different, but perhaps a no less instructive scene. Miriam must not only be contemplated in a new, but unpleasing light. Hitherto she had been the coadjutor of her brother Moses, but now becomes his opponent, pursuing a line of conduct, in consequence of indulging a guilty passion, which usually produces the most deplorable effects, and which we cannot but lament should have been so conspicuous in this illustrious woman. The circumstance alluded to is recorded, with the characteristic fidelity of the inspired historians, in the twelfth chapter of the book of Numbers.

"Wrath is cruel, and anger is outrageous; but who is able to stand before Envy?" To this latter principle must be attributed the plot in which both Aaron and Miriam engaged to diminish the reputation of Moses. This was not indeed the ostensible reason, but it was their real design; and occasioned the severe, but just chastisement which was immediately inflicted. Seldom do any of the baser passions act without combining and blending themselves with hypocritical pretences, in order to conceal from view their own hateful deformity. This will be found particularly the case, when they prevail in persons who have acquired respectability and influence, and who are not given over to total blindness and hardness of heart. Artifice may sometimes conduce to success, but it usually betrays character.

Aaron and Miriam spake against Moses, but not to him. If they had observed any thing objectionable in his administration of public affairs, it would have been candid, fair, and kind, to have taken a private opportunity for expostulation or inquiry. Not only was he extremely accessible, but they were his relatives, and in habits of daily intimacy and communication. They knew him well, and saw him often. Such a conduct would have done them honour, and although their surmises had proved incorrect, Moses would have applauded their ingenuousness. But, alas! these dear relatives, and otherwise good and great characters, had become envious of their brother; and acting conformably to the invariable meanness of such a spirit, they secretly circulated reports in the camp tending to disparage his excellence, for the purpose of advancing their own pretensions to popular estimation. Their arrogance is sufficiently apparent from their words, "Hath the Lord indeed spoken ONLY by Moses? Hath he not spoken ALSO by us!"

Can this be Aaron? Can that be Miriam? The one the brother—the other the sister of Moses? Persons too, venerable for their years, and for their office, and only next in honour to the great legislator and leader of Israel? It may have comported with the ambition of a Pagan to exclaim, "I had rather be the first man in a village, than the second in a kingdom;" but is such language befitting the lips of saints and prophets of the true God? Was not Aaron the person that sought the intercession of his brother when he had committed idolatry? Was he not consecrated a high priest unto God? Was not Miriam his elder sister, who acted so conspicuous a part in his early preservation, watching his bulrush-cradle when exposed to the waves and the monsters of the Nile? Was it not Miriam that accompanied him in his prosperities, that hailed his increasing glory, that aided his triumphant songs when the Egyptian army was submerged in the Red Sea? and can Miriam be envious? Strange infatuation!

But, perhaps, we are really censuring ourselves. Listen to the unbiassed voice of conscience. Does it not thunder in your ears, "Thou art the man?" Art thou insensible to its powerful and just remonstrances, "Wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself; for thou that judgest doeth the same things?" O beware of this mean, creeping, reptile spirit! Persons in eminent stations may, in a certain degree, expect to suffer from the wiles of envy: But to suffer from those of their own household, and from persons on whose friendship they have had the greatest reason to rely, must be peculiarly afflictive. If it be possible to add one drop to the bitterness of such a portion, it is by being envied, and consequently depreciated, by those who are associated in the same sacred office. A remark upon this subject cannot be misplaced, the history seems rather to claim it. A mortal creature cannot be invested with a more important commission than that of the ministry of the word. So highly did the apostle of the Gentiles appreciate his work, that, gifted as he was in every requisite to discharge it with honour and success, he exclaimed, "Unto me, who am less than the least of all saints, is this grace given, that I should preach amongst the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ." But if each heavenly ambassador be really convinced that he and his brethren are intrusted with an office at once so dignified in its nature, so useful in its design, so extensive in its duties, that no one can adequately fulfil for himself what would be sufficient to expend the energies of an angel; and that the combined exertions of all the preachers that ever have, or ever will, minister in holy things, cannot wholly occupy the sphere of possible usefulness, were every power of the mind, and every moment of time, made tributary to the service—if this were duly considered, surely instead of envying, depreciating, and thwarting each other, perfect love must prevail, and mutual assistance be incessantly rendered. The world is sufficiently disposed to reproach the servants of the sanctuary; they should not undervalue each other. Nothing can exceed, and no words can express, the littleness of attempting to construct our own fame upon the ruins of others; and when this temper exists, as it sometimes unquestionably does, amongst those who teach humility, it is singularly detestable. Ministers of the divine word should be guardians of each other's reputation, aware that the honour, and in some degree the success of it depends upon the character of its publishers and representatives. Miriam and Aaron should have been the last, while, such is human nature, they were the first, to envy Moses!

Mark the origin of those depreciating reports which they contrived to put in circulation. They had taken some offence respecting Zipporah, his wife, who is called the Ethiopian woman. The precise occasion of this offence cannot, and need not, be ascertained. Some have supposed it was on account of his having married her; but as this had taken place forty years before, and, being perfectly legal, could have furnished no just ground of crimination, the probability is, that some recent occurrence, grounded perhaps on personal and long cherished antipathy, produced a difference. Some private contention might have existed; that ungovernable member, the tongue, had inflamed resentments; and a revengeful spirit fastened the blame upon Moses, whose only offence was, probably, some meek and pacifying word.