“Thus saith the Lord, Stand ye in the ways, and see, and ask for
the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall
find rest for your souls.”—Jer. vi. 16.
Reverence for the old paths is a chief Christian duty. We look to
the future indeed with hope; yet this need not stand in the way of our
dwelling on the past days of the Church with affection and deference.
This is the feeling of our own Church, as continually expressed in the
Prayer Book;—not to slight what has gone before, not to seek after
some new thing, not to attempt discoveries in religion, but to keep
what has once for all been committed to her keeping, and to be at rest.
Now it may be asked, “Why should we for ever be looking back at past
times? were men perfect then? is it not possible to improve on the
knowledge then possessed?” Let us examine this question.
In what respect should we follow old times? Now here there is this
obvious maxim—what God has given us from heaven cannot be improved,
what man discovers for himself does admit of improvement; we follow old
times then so far as God has spoken in them, but in those
respects in which God has not spoken in them, we are not bound to
follow them. Now what is the knowledge which God has not thought fit to
reveal to us? knowledge connected merely with this present world. All this we have been left to acquire for ourselves. Whatever may have
been told to Adam in paradise, or to Noah, about which we know nothing,
still at least since that time no divinely authenticated directions (it
would appear) have been given to the world at large, on subjects
relating merely to this our temporal state of being. How we may till
our lands and increase our crops; how we may build our houses, and buy
and sell and get gain; how we may cross the sea in ships; how we may
make “fine linen for the merchant,” or, like Tubal-Cain, be artificers
in brass and iron: as to these objects of this world, necessary indeed
for the time, not everlastingly important, God has given us no clear
instruction. He has not set His sanction here upon any rules of art,
and told us what is best. They have been found out by man (as far as we
know), and improved by man, and the first essays, as might be expected,
were the rudest and least successful. Here then we have no need to
follow the old ways. Besides, in many of these arts and pursuits, there
is really neither right nor wrong at all; but the good varies with
times and places. Each country has its own way, which is best for
itself, and bad for others.
Again, God has given us no authority in questions of science. The
heavens above, and the earth under our feet, are full of wonders, and
have within them their own vast history. But the knowledge of the
secrets they contain, the tale of their past revolutions, is not given
us from Divine revelation; but left to man to attain by himself. And
here again, since discovery is difficult, the old knowledge is
generally less sure and complete than the modern knowledge. If we wish
to boast about little matters, we know more about the motions of
the heavenly bodies than Abraham, whose seed was in number as the
stars; we can measure the earth, and fathom the sea, and weigh the air,
more accurately than Moses, the inspired historian of the creation; and
we can discuss the varied inhabitants of this globe better than
Solomon, though “he spake of trees, from the cedar that is in Lebanon,
even unto the hyssop that springeth out of the wall . . . . and of
beasts, and of fowl, and of creeping things, and of fishes[1].” The
world is more learned in these things than of old, probably will learn
more still; a vast prospect is open to it, and an intoxicating one.
Like the children of Cain, before the flood came and destroyed them
all, men may increase and abound in such curious or merely useful
knowledge; nay, there is no limit to the progress of the human mind
here; we may build us a city and a tower, whose top may reach almost to
the very heavens.
Such is the knowledge which time has perfected, and in which the old
paths are commonly the least direct and safe. But let us turn to that
knowledge which God has given, and which therefore does not admit of
improvement by lapse of time, this is religious knowledge. Here,
whether a man might or might not have found out the truth for himself,
or how far he was able without Divine assistance, waiving this
question, which is nothing to the purpose, as a fact it has been from
the beginning given him by revelation. God taught Adam how to please
Him, and Noah, and Abraham, and Job. He has taught every nation all
over the earth sufficiently for the moral training of every individual.
In all these cases, the world's part of the work has been to pervert
the truth, not to disengage it from obscurity. The new ways are the
crooked ones. The nearer we mount up to the time of Adam, or Noah, or
Abraham, or Job, the purer light of truth we gain; as we recede from it
we meet with superstitions, fanatical excesses, idolatries, and
immoralities. So again in the case of the Jewish Church, since God
expressly gave the Jews a precise law, it is clear man could not
improve upon it, he could but add the “traditions of men.” Nothing was
to be looked for from the cultivation of the human mind. “To the law
and to the testimony” was the appeal, and any deviation from it was,
not a sign of increasing illumination, but “because there was no light”
in the authors of innovation. Lastly, in the Christian Church, we
cannot add or take away, as regards the doctrines that are contained in
the inspired volume, as regards the faith once delivered to the saints.
“Other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus
Christ[2].”
But it may be said that, though the word of God is an infallible
rule of faith, yet it requires interpreting, and why, as time goes on,
should we not discover in it more than we at present know on the
subject of religion and morals?
But this is hardly a question of practical importance to us as
individuals; for in truth a very little knowledge is enough for
teaching a man his duty: and, since Scripture is intended to teach us
our duty, surely it was never intended as a storehouse of mere
knowledge. Discoveries then in the details of morals and religion, by
means of the inspired volume, whether possible or not, must not be
looked out for, as the expectation may unsettle the mind, and take it
off from matters of duty. Certainly all curious questions at least are
forbidden us by Scripture, even though Scripture may be found adequate
to answer them.
This should be insisted on. Do we think to become better men by
knowing more? Little knowledge is required for religious obedience. The
poor and rich, the learned and unlearned, are here on a level. We have
all of us the means of doing our duty; we have not the will, and
this no knowledge can give. We have need to subdue our own minds, and
this no other person can do for us. The case is different in matters of
learning and science. There others can and do labour for us; we can
make use of their labours; we begin where they ended; thus
things progress, and each successive age knows more than the preceding.
But in religion each must begin, go on, and end, for himself. The
religious history of each individual is as solitary and complete as the
history of the world. Each man will, of course, gain more knowledge as
he studies Scripture more, and prays and meditates more; but he cannot
make another man wise or holy by his own advance in wisdom or holiness.
When children cease to be born children, because they are born late in
the world's history, when we can reckon the world's past centuries for
the age of this generation, then only can the world increase in real
excellence and truth as it grows older. The character will always
require forming, evil will ever need rooting out of each heart; the
grace to go before and to aid us in our moral discipline must ever come
fresh and immediate from the Holy Spirit. So the world ever remains in
its infancy, as regards the cultivation of moral truth; for the
knowledge required for practice is little, and admits of little
increase, except in the case of individuals, and then to them alone;
and it cannot be handed on to another. “As it was in the beginning, is
now, and ever shall be,” such is the general history of man's moral
discipline, running parallel to the unchanging glory of that
All-Perfect God, who is its Author and Finisher.
Practical religious knowledge, then, is a personal gift, and,
further, a gift from God; and, therefore, as experience has hitherto
shown, more likely to be obscured than advanced by the lapse of time.
But further, we know of the existence of an evil principle in the
world, corrupting and resisting the truth in its measure, according to
the truth's clearness and purity. Whether it be from the sinfulness of
our nature, or from the malignity of Satan, striving with peculiar
enmity against Divine truth, certain it is that the best gifts of God
have been the most woefully corrupted. It was prophesied from the
beginning, that the serpent should bruise the heel of Him who was
ultimately to triumph over him; and so it has ever been. Our Saviour,
who was the Truth itself, was the most spitefully entreated of all by
the world. It has been the case with His followers too. He was
crucified with thieves; they have been united and blended against their
will with the worst and basest of mankind. The purer and more precious
the gift which God bestows on us, far from this being a security for
its abiding and increasing, rather the more grievously has that gift
been abused. St. John even seems to make the greater wickedness in the
world the clear consequence and evidence of our Lord's having made His
appearing. “Little children, it is the last time” (i. e. the time of
the Christian Dispensation): “and as ye have heard that Antichrist
shall come, even now are there many Antichrists, whereby we know
that it is the last time[3].” St. Paul drew the same picture. So far
from anticipating brighter times in store for the Church before the
end, he portends evil only. “This know” (he says to Timothy), “that in
the last days perilous times will come. . . . . Evil men and seducers
shall wax worse and worse, deceiving and being deceived[4].” In these
and other passages surely there is no encouragement to look out for a
more enlightened, peaceful, and pure state of the Church than it enjoys
at present: rather, there is a call on us to consider the old and
original way as the best, and all deviations from it, though they seem
to promise an easier, safer, and shorter road, yet as really either
tending another way, or leading to the right object with much hazard
and many obstacles.
Such is the case as regards the knowledge of our duty,—that kind of
knowledge which alone is really worth earnest seeking. And there is an
important reason why we should acquiesce in it;—because the conviction
that things are so has no slight influence in forming our minds into
that perfection of the religious character, at which it is our duty
ever to be aiming. While we think it possible to make some great and
important improvements in the subject of religion, we shall be
unsettled, restless, impatient; we shall be drawn from the
consideration of improving ourselves, and from using the day while it
is given us, by the visions of a deceitful hope, which promises to make
rich but tendeth to penury. On the other hand, if we feel that the way
is altogether closed against discoveries in religion, as being neither
practicable nor desirable, it is likely we shall be drawn more entirely
and seriously to our own personal advancement in holiness; our eyes,
being withdrawn from external prospects, will look more at home. We
shall think less of circumstances, and more of our duties under them,
whatever they are. In proportion as we cease to be theorists we shall
become practical men; we shall have less of self-confidence and
arrogance, more of inward humility and diffidence; we shall be less
likely to despise others, and shall think of our own intellectual
powers with less complacency.
It is one great peculiarity of the Christian character to be
dependent. Men of the world, indeed, in proportion as they are active
and enterprising, boast of their independence, and are proud of having
obligations to no one. But it is the Christian's excellence to be
diligent and watchful, to work and persevere, and yet to be in spirit
dependent; to be willing to serve, and to rejoice in the permission
to do so; to be content to view himself in a subordinate place; to love
to sit in the dust. Though in the Church a son of God, he takes
pleasure in considering himself Christ's “servant” and “slave;” he
feels glad whenever he can put himself to shame. So it is the natural
bent of his mind freely and affectionately to visit and trace the
footsteps of the saints, to sound the praises of the great men of old
who have wrought wonders in the Church and whose words still live,
being jealous of their honour, and feeling it to be even too great a
privilege for such as he is to be put in trust with the faith once
delivered to them, and following them strictly in the narrow way, even
as they have followed Christ. To the ears of such persons the words of
the text are as sweet music: “Thus saith the Lord, Stand ye in the
ways, and see, and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and
walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls.”
The history of the Old Dispensation affords us a remarkable
confirmation of what I have been arguing from these words; for in the
time of the Law there was an increase of religious knowledge by fresh
revelations. From the time of Samuel especially to the time of Malachi,
the Church was bid look forward for a growing illumination, which,
though not necessary for religious obedience, subserved the
establishment of religious comfort. Now, I wish you to observe how
careful the inspired prophets of Israel are to prevent any kind of
disrespect being shown to the memory of former times, on account of
that increase of religious knowledge with which the later ages were
favoured; and if such reverence for the past were a duty among the Jews
when the Saviour was still to come, much more is it the duty of
Christians, who expect no new revelation, and who, though they look
forward in hope, yet see the future only in the mirror of times and
persons past, who (in the Angel's words) “wait for that same Jesus: . .
. . so to come in like manner as they saw Him go into heaven.”
Now, as to the reverence enjoined and taught the Jews towards
persons and times past, we may notice first the commandment given them
to honour and obey their parents and elders. This, indeed, is a natural
law. But that very circumstance surely gives force to the express and
repeated injunctions given them to observe it, sanctioned too (as it
was) with a special promise. Natural affection might have taught it;
but it was rested by the Law on a higher sanction. Next, this duty of
reverently regarding past times was taught by such general injunctions
(more or less express) as the text. It is remarkable, too, when Micah
would tell the Jews that the legal sacrifices appointed in time past
were inferior to the moral duties, he states it not as a new truth, but
refers to its announcement by a prophet in Moses' age,—to the answer
of Balaam to Balak, king of Moab.
But, further, to bind them to the observance of this duty, the past
was made the pledge of the future, hope was grounded upon memory; all
prayer for favour sent them back to the old mercies of God. “The Lord
hath been mindful of us, He will bless us[5];” this was the
form of their humble expectation. The favour vouchsafed to Abraham and
Israel, and the deliverance from Egypt, were the objects on which hope
dwelt, and were made the types of blessings in prospect. For instance,
out of the many passages which might be cited, Isaiah says, “Awake . .
. O arm of the Lord, as in the ancient days, in the generations of
old[6].” Micah, “Feed thy people with thy rod, the flock of thine
heritage, which dwell solitary in the wood, in the midst of Carmel; let
them feed in Bashan and Gilead, as in the days of old; according
to the days of thy coming out of Egypt will I show unto him marvellous
things[7].” The Psalms abound with like references to past mercies, as
pledges and types of future. Prophesying of the reign of Christ, David
says, “The Lord said, I will bring again from Bashan, I will bring My
people again from the depths of the sea,” and Moses too, speaking to
the Israelites—“Remember the days of old, consider the years of
many generations; ask thy father and he will show thee, thy elders, and
they will tell thee[8].” Accordingly, while a coming Saviour was
predicted, still the claims of past times on Jewish piety were
maintained, by His being represented by the prophets under the name and
character of David, or in the dress and office of Aaron; so that, the
clearer the revelation of the glory in prospect, in the same degree
greater honour was put upon the former Jewish saints who typified it.
In like manner the blessings promised to the Christian Church are
granted to it in the character of Israel, or of Jerusalem, or of Sion.
Lastly, as Moses directed the eyes of his people towards the line of
prophets which the Lord their God was to raise up from among them,
ending in the Messiah, they in turn dutifully exalt Moses, whose system
they were superseding. Samuel, David, Isaiah, Micah, Jeremiah, Daniel,
Ezra, Nehemiah, each in succession, bear testimony to Moses. Malachi,
the last of the prophets, while predicting the coming of John the
Baptist, still gives this charge, “Remember ye the law of Moses,
My servant, which I commanded unto him in Horeb for all Israel, with
the statutes and judgments[9].” In like manner in the New Testament the
last of the prophets and apostles describes the saints as singing “the
song of Moses, the servant of God” (this is his honourable title, as
elsewhere), “and the song of the Lamb[10].” Above all, our
blessed Lord Himself sums up the whole subject we have been reviewing,
both the doctrine and Jewish illustration of it, in His own
authoritative words,—“If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither
will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead[11].” After this
sanction, it is needless to refer to the reverence with which St. Paul
regards the law of Moses, and to the commemoration he has made of the
Old Testament saints in the eleventh chapter of his Epistle to the
Hebrews.
Oh that we had duly drunk into this spirit of reverence and godly
fear! Doubtless we are far above the Jews in our privileges; we are
favoured with the news of redemption; we know doctrines, which
righteous men of old time earnestly desired to be told, and were not.
To us is revealed the Eternal Son, the Only-begotten of the Father,
full of grace and truth. We are branches of the True Vine, which is
sprung out of the earth and spread abroad. We have been granted
Apostles, Prophets, Evangelists, pastors, and teachers. We celebrate
those true Festivals which the Jews possessed only in shadow. For us
Christ has died, on us the Spirit has descended. In these respects we
are honoured and privileged, oh how far above all ages before He came!
Yet our honours are our shame, when we contrast the glory given us with
our love of the world, our fear of men, our lightness of mind, our
sensuality, our gloomy tempers. What need have we to look with wonder
and reverence at those saints of the Old Covenant, who with less
advantages yet so far surpassed us; and still more at those of the
Christian Church, who both had higher gifts of grace and profited by
them! What need have we to humble ourselves; to pray God not to leave
us, though we have left Him; to pray Him to give us back what we have
lost, to receive a repentant people, to renew in us a right heart and
give us a religious will, and to enable us to follow Him perseveringly
in His narrow and humbling way.
[1] 1 Kings iv. 33.
[2] 1 Cor. iii. 11.
[3] 1 John ii. 18.
[4] 2 Tim. iii. 13.
[5] Ps. cxv. 12.
[6] Isa. li. 9.
[7] Micah vii. 14, 15.
[8] Deut. xxxii. 7.
[9] Mal. iv. 4.
[10] Rev. xv. 3.
[11] Luke xvi. 31.
END OF VOL. VII.