The Expositor's Bible
Edited by
W. Robertson Nicoll, D.D., LL.D.
THE BOOK OF NUMBERS
BY THE
Rev. Robert A. Watson, M.A., D.D.
AUTHOR OF "GOSPELS OF YESTERDAY," "JUDGES AND RUTH," "THE BOOK OF JOB," "IN THE APOSTOLIC AGE," ETC.
HODDER & STOUGHTON
NEW YORK
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
To summon from the past and reproduce with any
detail the story of Israel's life in the desert is
now impossible. The outlines alone remain, severe,
careless of almost everything that does not bear
on religion. Neither from Exodus nor from Numbers
can we gather those touches that would enable us to
reconstruct the incidents of a single day as it passed in
the camp or on the march. The tribes move from one
"wilderness" to another. The hardship of the time of
wandering appears unrelieved, for throughout the history
the doings of God, not the achievements or sufferings
of the people, are the great theme. The patriotism
of the Book of Numbers is of a kind that reminds us
continually of the prophecies. Resentment against the
distrustful and rebellious, like that which Amos, Hosea,
and Jeremiah express, is felt in almost every portion
of the narrative. At the same time the difference
between Numbers and the books of the prophets is
wide and striking. Here the style is simple, often
stern, with little emotion, scarcely any rhetoric. The
legislative purpose reacts on the historical, and makes
the spirit of the book severe. Seldom does the writer
allow himself respite from the grave task of presenting
Israel's duties and delinquencies, and exalting the
Nevertheless, so far as a book of incident and statute
can resemble poetry, there is a parallel between
Numbers and a form of literature produced under
other skies, other conditions—the Greek drama. The
same is true of Exodus and Deuteronomy; but Numbers
will be found especially to bear out the comparison.
The likeness may be traced in the presentation of a
main idea, the relation of various groups of persons
carrying out or opposing that main idea, and the
Puritanism of form and situation. The Book of Numbers
may be called eternal literature more fitly than the
Iliad and Æneid have been called eternal poems; and
the keen ethical strain and high religious thought make
the movement tragical throughout. Moses the leader
is seen with his helpers and opponents, Aaron and
Miriam, Joshua and Hobab, Korah, Dathan, and
Abiram, Balak and Balaam. He is brought into
extremity; he despairs and appeals passionately to
Heaven; in an hour of pride he falls into sin which
brings doom upon him. The people, murmuring,
craving, suffering, are always a vague multitude. The
tent, the cloud, the incense, the wars, the strain of
the wilderness journey, the hope of the land beyond—all
have a dim solemnity. The occupying thought is
of Jehovah's purpose and the revelation of His character.
Moses is the prophet of this Divine mystery,
stands for it almost alone, urges it upon Israel, is the
means of impressing it by judgments and victories, by
priestly law and ceremony, by the very example of his
own failure in sudden trial. With a graver and bolder
The Divine discipline of human life is an element of the theme, but in contrast to the Greek dramas the books of the exodus are not individualistic. Moses is great, but he is so as the teacher of religion, the servant of Jehovah, the lawgiver of Israel. Jehovah, His religion, His law, are above Moses. The personality of the leader stands clear; yet he is not the hero of the Book of Numbers. The purpose of the history leaves him, when he has done his work, to die on Mount Abarim, and presses on, that Jehovah may be seen as a man of war, that Israel may be brought to its inheritance and begin its new career. The voice of men in the Greek tragedy is, as Mr. Ruskin says, "We trusted in the gods; we thought that wisdom and courage would save us. Our wisdom and courage deceive us to our death." When Moses despairs, that is not his cry. There is no Fate stronger than God; and He looks far into the future in the discipline He appoints to men, to His people Israel. The remote, the unfulfilled, gleams along the desert. There is a light from the pillar of fire even when the pestilence is abroad, and the graves of the lustful are dug, and the camp is dissolved in tears because Aaron is dead, because Moses has climbed the last mountain and shall never again be seen.
In respect of content, one point shows likeness
between the Greek drama and our book—the vague
conception of death. It is not an extinction of life,
Dying as well as living men are with God; and this
God is the Lord of all. Immense is the difference
between the Greek who trusts or dreads many powers
above, beneath, and the Hebrew realising himself,
however dimly, as the servant of Jehovah the holy,
the eternal. This great idea, seized by Moses, introduced
by him into the faith of his people, remained
it may be indefinite, yet always present to the thought
of Israel with many implications till the time of full
revelation came with Christ, and He said: "Now that
the dead are raised, even Moses showed, in the bush,
when he called the Lord the God of Abraham, and the
God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. For He is not
the God of the dead, but of the living." The wide
interval between a people whose religion contained this
thought, in whose history it is interwoven, and a people
whose religion was polytheistic and natural is seen in
the whole strain of their literature and life. Even
Plato the luminous finds it impossible to overpass the
The problem which appears again and again in Moses' relation with the people is that of the theocratic idea as against the grasping at immediate success. At various points, from the start in Egypt onwards, the opportunity of assuming a regal position comes to Moses. He is virtually dictator, and he might be king. But a rare singleness of mind keeps him true to Jehovah's lordship, which he endeavours to stamp on the conscience of the people and the course of their development. He has often to do so at the greatest risk to himself. He holds back the people in what seems the hour of advance, and it is the will of Jehovah by which they are detained. The Unseen King is their Helper and equally their Rhadamanthine Judge; and on Moses falls the burden of forcing that fact upon their minds.
Israel could never, according to Moses' idea, become
a great people in the sense in which the nations of
the world were great. Amongst them greatness was
sought in despite of morality, in defiance of all that
Jehovah commanded. Israel might never be great in
wealth, territory, influence, but she was to be true.
She existed for Jehovah, while the gods of other
nations existed for them, had no part to play without
Moses is not the priest of the people: the priesthood
comes in as a ministering body, necessary for religious
ends and ideas, but never governing, never even interpreting.
It is singular from this point of view that the
so-called Priests' Code should be attributed confidently
to a caste ambitious of ruling or practically enthroned.
Wellhausen ridicules the "fine" distinction between
hierocracy and theocracy. He affirms that government
of God is the same thing as rule of priest; and he may
affirm this because he thinks so. The Book of Numbers,
as it stands, might have been written to prove that
they are not equivalent; and Wellhausen himself
shows that they are not by more than one of his
conclusions. The theocracy, he says, is in its nature
intimately allied to the Roman Catholic Church, which
is, in fact, its child; and on the whole he prefers to
speak of the Jewish Church rather than the theocracy.
But if any modern religious body is to be named as a
child of the Hebrew theocracy, it must not be one in
which the priest intervenes continually between faith
and God. Wellhausen says again that "the sacred
constitution of Judaism was an artificial product" as
contrasted with the broadly human indigenous element,
the real idea of man's relation to God; and when a
priesthood, as in later Judaism, becomes the governing
body, God is, so far, dethroned. Now Moses
The Book of Numbers, called also "In the wilderness,"
opens with the second month of the second year
after the exodus, and goes on to the arrival of the tribes
in the plains of Moab by the Jordan. As a whole it
may be said to carry out the historical and religious
ideas of Exodus and Leviticus: and both the history
and the legislation flow into three main channels.
They go to establish the separateness of Israel as a
people, the separateness of the tribe of Levi and the
priesthood, and the separateness and authority of
Jehovah. The first of these objects is served by the
accounts of the census, of the redemption of the first-born,
the laws of national atonement and distinctive
dress, and generally the Divine discipline of Israel
recorded in the course of the book. The second line
of purpose may be traced in the careful enumeration of
the Levites; the minute allocation of duties connected
with the tabernacle to the Gershonites, the Kohathites,
and the Merarites; the special consecration of the
Aaronic priesthood; the elaboration of ceremonials
requiring priestly service; and various striking incidents,
such as the judgment of Korah and his company, and
The whole system of religious observance and priestly ministration set forth in the Mosaic books may seem difficult to account for, not indeed as a national development, but as a moral and religious gain. We are ready to ask how God could in any sense have been the author of a code of laws imposing so many intricate ceremonies, which required a whole tribe of Levites and priests to perform them. Where was the spiritual use that justified the system, as necessary, as wise, as Divine? Inquiries like these will arise in the minds of believing men, and sufficient answer must be sought for.
In the following way the religious worth and therefore
the inspiration of the ceremonial law may be found.
The primitive notion that Jehovah was the exclusive
property of Israel, the pledged patron of the nation,
tended to impair the sense of His moral purity. An
ignorant people inclined to many forms of immorality
could not have a right conception of the Divine holiness;
and the more it was accepted as a commonplace of
faith that Jehovah knew them alone of all the families
of the earth, the more was right belief towards Him
imperilled. A psalmist who in the name of God reproves
"the wicked" indicates the danger: "Thou
Opening with an account of the census, the Book of
Numbers evidently stood, from the first, quite distinct
Recent criticism is positive in its assertion that the
book contains several strata of narrative; and there
are certain passages, the accounts of Korah's revolt
and of Dathan and Abiram, for instance, where without
such a clew the history must seem not a little confused.
In a sense this is disconcerting. The ordinary reader
finds it difficult to understand why an inspired book
should appear at any point incomplete or incoherent.
The hostile critic again is ready to deny the credibility
of the whole. But the honesty of the writing is proved
by the very characteristics that make some statements
By far the greater part of Numbers refers to the second year after the exodus from Egypt, and to what took place in the fortieth year, after the departure from Kadesh. Regarding the intermediate time we are told little but that the camp was shifted from one place to another in the wilderness. Why the missing details have not survived in any form cannot now be made out. It is no sufficient explanation to say that those events alone are preserved which struck the popular imagination. On the other hand, to ascribe what we have to unscrupulous or pious fabrication is at once unpardonable and absurd. Some may be inclined to think that the book consists entirely of accidental scraps of tradition, and that inspiration would have come better to its end if the religious feelings of the people had received more attention, and we had been shown the gradual use of Israel out of ignorance and semi-barbarism. Yet even for the modern historical sense the book has its own claim, by no means slight, to high estimation and close study. These are venerable records, reaching back to the time they profess to describe, and presenting, though with some traditional haze, the important incidents of the desert journey.
Turning from the history to the legislation, we have
to inquire whether the laws regarding priests and
It is beyond our range to discuss the date of the
compilation of Numbers as compared with the other
Pentateuchal books, or the age of the "Jehovistic"
documents as compared with the "Priests' Code."
This, however, is of less moment, since it is now
becoming clear that attempts to settle these dates can
only darken the main question—the antiquity of the
original records and enactments. The assertion that
Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers belong to an age later
than Ezekiel is of course meant to apply to the present
form of the books. But even in this sense it is
misleading. Those who make it themselves assume
It has been said that "the inspired condition would
seem to be one which produces a generous indifference
to pedantic accuracy in matters of fact, and a supreme
absorbing concern about the moral and religious
significance of facts." If the former part of this
statement were true, the historical books of the Bible,
and, we may say, in particular the Book of Numbers,
would deserve no attention as history. But nothing is
Recurring now, for a little, to the spirit of the Book
of Numbers, we find in the ethical passages its highest
note and power as an inspired writing. The standard
of judgment is not by any means that of Christianity.
It belongs to an age when moral ideas had often to
be enforced with indifference to human life; when,
conversely, the plagues and disasters that befell men
were always connected with moral offences. It belongs
to an age when the malediction of one who claimed
supernatural insight was generally believed to carry
power with it, and the blessing of God meant earthly
prosperity. And the notable fact is that, side by side
with these beliefs, righteousness of an exalted kind is
strenuously taught. For example, the reverence for
Moses and Aaron, usually so characteristic of the Book
of Numbers, is seen falling into the background when
the Divine judgment of their fault is recorded; and the
earnestness shown is nothing less than sublime. In
the course of the legislation Aaron is invested with
extraordinary official dignity; and Moses appears at
his best in the matter of Eldad and Medad when
he says, "Enviest thou for my sake? Would God
that all the Lord's people were prophets, and that the
Lord would put His Spirit upon them." Yet Numbers
records the sentence pronounced upon the brothers:
"Because ye believed Me not, to sanctify Me in the
eyes of the children of Israel, therefore ye shall not
bring this congregation into the land which I have
given them." And more severe is the form of the
It must be confessed the book has another note. In order that Israel might reach and conquer Canaan there had to be war; and the warlike spirit is frankly breathed. There is no thought of converting enemies like the Midianites into friends; every man of them must be put to the sword. The census enumerates the men fit for war. The primitive militarism is consecrated by Israel's necessity and destiny. When the desert march is over, Reuben, Gad, and the half-tribe of Manasseh must not turn peacefully to their sheep and cattle on the east side of Jordan; they must send their men of war across the river to maintain the unity of the nation by running the hazard of battle with the rest. Experience of this inevitable discipline brought moral gain. Religion could use even war to lift the people into the possibility of higher life.
The enumeration, as recorded in chap. i., was not to be of all Israelites, but of men from twenty years old and upward, all that were able to go forth to war. From Sinai to Canaan was no long journey, and fighting might soon be required. The muster was by way of preparation for conflicts in the wilderness and for the final struggle. It is significant that Aaron is shown associated with Moses in gathering the results. We see not only a preparation for war, but also for the poll tax or tithe to be levied in support of the priests and Levites. A sequel to the enumeration is to be found in chap. xviii. 21: "And unto the children of Levi, behold, I have given all the tithe in Israel for an inheritance, in return for their service which they serve, even the service of the tent of meeting." The Levites again were to give, out of what they received, a tenth part for the maintenance of the priests. The enactment when carried into effect would make the support of those who ministered in holy things a term of the national constitution.
Now taking the census as intended to impress the
personal duties of service in war and contribution for
religious ends, we find in it a valuable lesson for all
who acknowledge the Divine authority. Not remotely
may the command be interpreted thus. Take the sum
True, the position of the Church among us is not of
the kind which the Mosaic law gave to the priesthood
in Israel. Tithes are gathered, not from those only
The census is described as having been thoroughly
organised. Keil and Delitzsch think that the registering
may have taken place "according to the classification
adopted at Jethro's suggestion for the administration
of justice—viz., in thousands, hundreds, fifties, and
tens." They also defend the total of six hundred and
three thousand five hundred and fifty, which is precisely
the same as that reached apparently nine months
Of the twelve princes named in chap. i. 5-15, as
overseers of the census, Nahshon, son of Amminadab,
of the tribe of Judah, has peculiar distinction. His
name is found in the genealogy of David given in the
Book of Ruth (chap. iv. 20). It also appears in the
"book of the generation of Jesus Christ" (
The age of service fixed for the men of the tribes
may yield suggestions for our time. It is not of
warlike service we have to think, but of that which
depends on spiritual influence and intellectual power.
And we may ask whether the limits on one side and
the other have any parallel for us. Young men
and women, having reached the age of bodily and
mental vigour, are to hold themselves enrolled in the
ranks of the army of God. There is a time of learning
and preparation, when knowledge is to be acquired,
when the principles of life are to be grasped, and the
soul is to find its inspiration through personal faith.
Then there should come that self-consecration by which
response is made to the claim of God. Neither should
that be premature, nor should it be deferred. When
an aimless, irresolute adolescence is followed by years
of drifting and experimenting without clear religious
purpose, the best opportunity of life is thrown away.
And this far too frequently occurs among those on
whom parental influence and the finest Christian
teaching have been expended. The time arrives when
On the other side also many need to reconsider.
No time was fixed for the end of the services to which
the Israelites were summoned. As long as a man
could carry arms he was to hold himself ready for
the field. Not the increasing cares of his family, not
the disinclination which comes with years, was to
weigh against the ordinance of Jehovah. But service
now, however cheerfully it may be rendered in early
manhood and womanhood, is often renounced altogether
when knowledge and power are coming to
ripeness with the experience of life. Doubtless there
are many excuses to be made for heads of households
who are leaving their young folk to represent them in
religion, and pretty much in everything outside the
mere maintaining of existence or the enjoyment of it.
In this order it is implied that, although according to
the ideal of the Mosaic law Israel was to be a holy
nation, yet the reality fell very far short of it. "The
Lord spake unto Moses, saying, Speak unto all the
congregation of the children of Israel, and say unto
them, Ye shall be holy: for I the Lord your God am
holy" (
As we have seen, the scheme of Israel's religion required this array of servants of the sanctuary. Under Christianity the ideal of the life of faith and the manner of worship are entirely different. A way into the holy place of the Divine presence is now open to every believer, and each may have boldness to enter it. But even under Christianity there is a general failure from holiness, from the spiritual worship of God. And as among the Hebrews, so among Christians, the need for a body of guardians of sacred truth and pure religion has been widely acknowledged. Throughout the Church generally down to the Reformation, and still in countries like Russia and Spain, we may even say in England, the condition of things is like that in Israel. A people conscious of ignorance and secularity, feeling nevertheless the need of religion, willingly supports the "priests," sometimes a great army, who conduct the worship of God. There is nothing to wonder at here, in a sense; much, indeed, for which to be thankful. Yet the system is not the New Testament one; and those who endeavour to realise the ideal are not to be branded and scorned as schismatics. They should be honoured for their noble effort to reach and use the holy consecration of the Christian.
The picture of the great organised camp and orderly
Yet all Aaron's sons had not been of this quiet
disposition. Nadab and Abihu, the two eldest, had
sinned presumptuously, and brought on themselves the
doom of death. No fewer than five times is their fall
Whether the death of those two sons of Aaron came by an unexpected stroke, or was a doom inflicted after judgment in which their father had to acquiesce, the terrible event left a most effectual warning. The order appointed for the incense offering, and all other sacred duties, would thenceforth be rigidly observed. And the incident—revived continually for the priests when they studied the Law—must have had especial significance through their knowledge of the use and meaning of fire in idolatrous worship. The temptation was often felt, against which the fate of Nadab and Abihu set every priest on his guard, to mingle the supposed virtue of other religious symbols with the sanctities of Jehovah. Who can doubt that priests of Israel, secretly tempted by the rites of sun-worship, might have gone the length of carrying the fire of Baal into Jehovah's temple, if the memory of this doom had not held back the hand? Here also the degradation of the burnt offering by taking flame from a common fire was by implication forbidden. The source of that which is the symbol of Divine purity must be sacredly pure.
Those who minister in holy things have still a corresponding danger, and may find here a needed warning. The fervour shown in sacred worship and work must have an origin that is purely religious. He who pleads earnestly with God on behalf of men, or rises to impassioned appeal in beseeching men to repent, appearing as an ambassador of Christ urged by the love of souls, has to do not with symbols, but with truths, ideas, Divine mysteries infinitely more sacred than the incense and fire of Old Testament worship. For the Hebrew priest outward and formal consecration sufficed. For the minister of the New Testament, the purity must be of the heart and soul. Yet it is possible for the heat of alien zeal, of mere self-love or official ambition, to be carried into duties the most solemn that fall to the lot of man; and if it is not in the Spirit of God a preacher speaks or offers the sacrifice of thanksgiving, if some other inspiration makes him eloquent and gives his voice its tremulous notes, sin like that of Nadab and Abihu is committed, or rather a sin greater than theirs. With profound sorrow it must be confessed that the "strange fire" from idolatrous altars too often desecrates the service of God. Excitement is sought by those who minister in order that the temperament may be raised to the degree necessary for free and ardent speech; and it is not always of a purely religious kind. Those who hear may for a time be deceived by the pretence of unction, by dramatic tones, by alien fire. But the difference is felt when it cannot be defined; and on the spiritual life of the ministrant the effect is simply fatal.
The surviving sons of Aaron, Eleazar and Ithamar,
were anointed and "consecrated to minister in the
Eleazar and Ithamar "ministered in the priest's
office in the presence of Aaron their father." So far
as the narrative of the Pentateuch gives information,
there were originally, and during the whole of the
wilderness journey, no other priests than Aaron and
his sons. Nadab and Abihu having died, there remained
The direction is given in ver. 10, "Thou shalt
appoint Aaron and his sons, and they shall keep their
priesthood; and the stranger that cometh nigh shall be
put to death." This is rigorously exclusive, and seems
to contrast with the statements of Deuteronomy, "At
that time the Lord separated the tribe of Levi to bear
the ark of the covenant of the Lord, to stand before
the Lord to minister unto Him and to bless in His
name unto this day" (x. 8); and again, "The priests
the Levites, even all the tribe of Levi, shall have no
portion nor inheritance with Israel; they shall eat the
offerings of the Lord made by fire, and His inheritance"
(xviii. 1); and once more, "Moses wrote the
law and delivered it unto the priests, the sons of Levi,
which bore the ark of the covenant of the Lord, and
unto all the elders of Israel" (xxxi. 9). Throughout
Deuteronomy the priests are never called sons of
Aaron, nor is Aaron called a priest. Whether the
cause of this apparent discrepancy is that Deuteronomy
regarded the arrangements for the priestly service in
The tribe of Levi is, according to ver. 6 ff., appointed
to minister to Aaron, and to keep his charge and that
of the congregation before the "tent of meeting," to
do the service of the tabernacle. For all the necessary
It has been questioned whether the number of the first-born, which is 22,273, can in any way be made to agree with the total number of the male Israelites, previously stated at 603,550. Wellhausen is specially contemptuous of a tradition or calculation which, he says, would give an average of forty children to each woman. But the difficulty partly yields if it is kept in view that the Levites were separated for the service of the sanctuary. Naturally it would be the heir-apparent alone of each family group whose liability to this kind of duty fell to be considered. The head of a household was, according to the ancient reckoning, its priest. In Abraham's family no one counted as a first-born but Isaac. Now that a generation of Israelites is growing up sanctified by the covenant, it appears fit that the presumptive priest should either be devoted to sacerdotal duty, or relieved of it by a Levite as his substitute. Suppose each family had five tents, and suppose further that the children born before the exodus are not reckoned, the number will not be found at all disproportionate. The absolute number remains a difficulty.
Dr. Robertson Smith argues from his own premises
about the sanctity of the first-born. He repudiates the
notion that at one time the Hebrews actually sacrificed
all their first-born sons; yet he affirms that "there
must have been some point of attachment in ancient
custom for the belief that the Deity asked for such a
sacrifice." "Religion of the Semites," p. 445.
The first-born are found to exceed the number of
The method of redemption here presented, purely arbitrary in respect of the sum appointed for the ransom of each life, is fitly contrasted by the Apostle Peter with that of the Christian dispensation. He adopts the word redeem, taking it over from the old economy, but says, "Ye were redeemed not with corruptible things, with silver or gold, from your vain manner of life handed down from your fathers." And the difference is not only that the Christian is redeemed with the precious blood of Christ, but this also, that, while the first-born Israelite was relieved of certain parts of the holy service which might have been claimed of him by Jehovah, it is for sacred service, "to be a holy priesthood to offer up spiritual sacrifices," Christians are redeemed. In the one case exemption, in the other case consecration is the end. The difference is indeed great, and shows how much the two covenants are in contrast with each other. It is not to enable us to escape any of the duties or obligations of life Christ has given Himself for us. It is to make us fit for those duties, to bring us fully under those obligations, to purify us that we may serve God with our bodies and spirits which are His.
A passage in Exodus (xiii. 11 f.) must not be overlooked
in connection with that presently under consideration.
The enactment there is to the effect that
when Israel is brought into the land of the Canaanites
every first-born of beasts shall be set apart unto the
Lord, the firstling of an ass shall be redeemed with a
In
The ceremonies appointed for the cleansing and
consecration of the Levites, described in viii. 5-26,
may be noticed here. They differed considerably from
those enjoined for the consecration of priests. Neither
were the Levites anointed with sacred oil, for instance,
nor were they sprinkled with the blood of sacrifices;
nor, again, do they seem to have worn any special
dress, even in the tabernacle court. There was, however,
an impressive ritual which would produce in
their minds a consciousness of separation and devotion
to God. The water of expiation, literally of sin, was
first to be sprinkled upon them, a baptism not signifying
anything like regeneration, but having reference to
possible defilements of the flesh. A razor was then
to be made to pass over the whole body, and the clothes
were to be washed, also to remove actual as well as
legal impurity. This cleansing completed, the sacrifices
followed. One bullock for a burnt offering, with its
accompanying meal offering, and one for a sin offering
were provided. The people being assembled towards
the door of the tent of meeting, the Levites were placed
in front of them to be presented to Jehovah. The
princes probably laid their hands on the Levites, so
declaring them the representatives of all for their
special office. Then Aaron had to offer the sacrifices
for the Levites, and the Levites themselves as living
sacrifices to Jehovah. The Levites laid their hands on
the bullocks, making them their substitutes for the
symbolic purpose. Aaron and his sons slew the
Such is the account of the symbolic cleansing and
the representative ministry of the Levites; and we see
both a parallel and a contrast to what is demanded
now for the Christian life of obedience and devotion
to God. Purification there must be from all defilement
of flesh and spirit. With the change which takes place
when by repentance and faith in Christ we enter into
the free service of God there must be a definite and
earnest purging of the whole nature. "As ye presented
your members as servants to uncleanness and to iniquity
unto iniquity, even so now present your members as
servants to righteousness unto sanctification" (
The office of the Kohathites is of peculiar sanctity,
next to that of Aaron and his sons. They are not
"cut off" or specially separated from among the Levites
(iv. 18); but they have duties that require great care,
and they must not venture to approach the most holy
things till preparation has been made by the priests.
The manner of that preparation is fully described.
When order has been given for the setting forward of
the camp, Aaron and his sons cover the ark of the
covenant first with the veil of the screen, then with a
covering of sealskin, and lastly with a cloth of blue;
they also insert in the rings the long staves with
which the ark is to be carried. Next the table of
shewbread is covered with a blue cloth; the dishes,
spoons, bowls, and cups are placed on the top, over
them a scarlet cloth, and above that a sealskin covering;
the staves of the table are also placed in readiness. The
The question arises, why so great care is considered
necessary that none but the priests should handle the
furniture of the sanctuary. We have learned to think
that a real religion should avoid secrecy, that everything
connected with it should be done in the open
light of day. Why, then, is the shrine of Jehovah
guarded with such elaborate precaution? And the
answer is that the idea of mystery appears here as
absolutely needful, in order to maintain the solemn
feelings of the people and their sense of the holiness
of God. Not only because the Israelites were rude
and earthly, but also because the whole system was
symbolic, the holy things were kept from common
sight. In this respect the worship described in these
books of Moses resembled that of other nations of
antiquity. The Egyptian temple had its innermost
shrine where the arks of the gods were placed; and
into that most holy place with its silver soil the priests
alone went. But even Egyptian worship, with all its
mystery, did not always conceal the arks and statues
of the gods. When those gods were believed to be
favourable, the arks were carried in procession, the
images so far unveiled that they could be seen by
the people. It was entirely different in the case of the
The Gershonites had as their charge the screens and curtains of the tabernacle, or most holy place, and the tent of meeting or holy place, also the curtains of the court of the tabernacle. The boards, bars, pillars, and sockets of the tabernacle and of the court were to be entrusted to the Merarites.
In the whole careful ordering of the duties to be
discharged by these Levites we see a figure of the
service to be rendered to God and men in one aspect
of it. Organisation, attention to details, and subordination
of those who carry out schemes to the appointed
officials, and of all, both inferior and superior, to law—these
ideas are here fully represented. Assuming the
incapacity of many for spontaneous effort, the principle
It may appear a strange thing that the precept, "Ye
shall be holy; for I am holy," was affixed not only to
moral duties but with almost the same force to ceremonial
duties. We can understand this, however,
when we trace the result of the priestly ordinances.
They created religious care and feeling; and the end
was gained not so much by directing attention, as we
now do, to faults of conduct, defects of will, sins of
injustice, impurity, intemperance, and the like, but by
keeping up a scrupulous attention to matters not,
properly speaking, either moral or immoral, not ethical
as we say, which were yet declared to be of moment
in religion. The moral law did its part. But to make
the enforcement of moral statutes, many of which bore
on desire and will, the only means of urging the fear
of God, would have resulted practically in a very bare
and desultory cultus. Among a comparatively rude
people like the Israelites it would have been absurd to
institute a religion consisting of "morality touched by
emotion." For the mass of people still it is equally
hopeless. There must be ordinances of prayer, praise,
sacrament, and the duties which reach Godward through
the Church. The value of the whole ceremonial system
of the Mosaic law is clear from this point of view; and
we need not wonder in the least at the nature of many
provisions which, without grasp of the principle, we
might reckon irksome and useless. The origin of some
And yet, in view of the malignant nature of the disease and the peril it caused to the general health, we must admit the wisdom of segregating those afflicted with leprosy. That Israel might be a robust people capable of its destiny, a rule like this was needful. It anticipated our modern laws made in harmony with advanced medical science, which require segregation or isolation in cases of virulent disease.
It has been affirmed that leprosy was from the first
regarded as symbolic of moral disease, and that the
legislation was from this point of view. There is,
however, no evidence to support the theory. Indeed
the conception of moral evil would have been confused
rather than helped by any such idea. For although
evil habits taint the mind and vice ruins it as leprosy
taints and destroys the body; although the infectious
nature of sin is fitly indicated by the insidious spread
of this disease—one point in which there is no
resemblance would make the symbol dangerously
misleading. A few here and there were attacked by
leprosy, and these with their blotched disfigured
bodies were easily distinguished from the healthy.
According to the idea which underlies the priest law,
leprosy did not typify sin; it meant sin. In no single
place, indeed, is this directly affirmed. Yet the belief
connecting bodily afflictions and calamities with transgressions
implied it, and the fact that guilt offerings had
to be made for the leper when he was cleansed. Again,
in the cases of Miriam, of Gehazi, and of Uzziah, the
punishment of sin was leprosy. Under the conditions
of climate which often prevailed, the germs of this
disease might rapidly be developed by excitement,
especially by the excitement of immoral rashness.
Here we may find the connection which the law
assumes between leprosy and guilt, and the origin of
the statute which made the intervention of the priests
necessary. In their poor dwellings beyond camp and
city wall the lepers lay under a double reproach. They
were not only tainted in body but appeared as sinners
above others, men on whom some divine judgment had
fallen, as the very name of their disease implied. And
not till One came who did not fear to lay His hand on
the leprous flesh, whose touch brought healing and life,
was the pressure of the moral condemnation taken
away. Of many cases of leprosy He would have said,
Now is the law to be charged with creating a class of social pariahs? Is there any reason for saying that in some way the legislation should have expressed pity rather than the rigour which appears in the passage before us and other enactments regarding leprosy? It would be easy to bring arguments which would seem to prove the law defective here. But in matters of this kind civilization and Christian culture could not be forestalled. What was possible, what in the conditions that existed could be carried into effect, this only was commanded. These old enactments sprang out of the best wisdom and religion of the age. But they do not represent the whole of the Divine will, the Divine mercy, even as they were contemporaneously revealed. Add to the statutes regarding leprosy the other, "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself," and those that enjoined kindness to the poor and provision for their needs, and the true tenor of the legislation will be understood. According to these laws there were to be no pariahs in Israel. It was a sad necessity if any were excluded from the congregation of God's people. The laws of brotherhood would insure for the wretched colony outside the camp every possible consideration. Denied access to God in festival and sacrifice, the lepers appealed to the humane feelings of the people. With their pathetic cry, "Unclean, unclean!" their loose hair and rent clothes, they confessed a miserable state that touched every heart. As time went on, the law of segregation was interpreted liberally. Even in the synagogues a place was set apart for the lepers. The kindly disposition promoted by the Mosaic institutions was shown thus, and in many other ways.
The lepers banished outside the camp remind us of those who have for no wrong-doing of their own to endure social reproach. Were sometimes good men and women among the Hebrews, men with kind hearts, good mothers and daughters, attacked by this disease and compelled to betake themselves to the squalid tents of the lepers? That decree of rigorous precaution is outdone by the strange fact that under the providence of God, in His world, the best have often had to undergo opprobrium and cruelty; that Jesus Himself was crucified as a malefactor, bore the curse of him that "hangeth upon a tree." We see great suffering which is not due to moral delinquency; and we see the sting of it taken quite away. The stern ordinances of nature have light thrown upon them from a higher world. "Himself took our infirmities and bare our sicknesses." For our sakes He was the object of brutal mockery, the sufferer, the sacrifice.
Besides the lepers and those who had an issue, every
one who was unclean by reason of touching a dead
body was to be excluded from the camp. This provision
appears to rest on the idea that death was no
"debt of nature," but unnatural, the result of the curse
of God. Associated, however, in the statute before us
with leprosy, defilement from the dead may have been
decreed to prevent the spread of disease. Many maladies
too well known to us have an infectious character; and
those who were present at a death would be most
exposed to their influence. Pathological explanations
do not by any means account for all the kinds and
causes of defilement; but exclusion from the camp
is the special point here; and the cases may be classed
together as having a common origin. The notion that
some demon or fallen spirit was at work both in producing
A singular point in the statute regarding uncleanness
"by the dead" is that the word נֶפֶשׁ (nephesh) stands
apparently for the dead body. Of this some other
explanation is needed than the free transference of
meanings in Hebrew. Here and elsewhere in the
Book of Numbers (vi. 11; ix. 6, 7, 10; xix. 13), as
well as in various passages in Leviticus, defilement is
attributed to the nephesh. Commonly the word means
soul or animal life-principle. When connected with
death it corresponds to our word "ghost," as in
The reason given for the banishment of the unclean
is the presence of God in the congregation—"That
they defile not their camp, in the midst whereof I
dwell." All that are unhealthy, and those who have
been in contact with death, which is the result of
irremediable disease or accident, must be withdrawn
from the precincts that belong to the Holy God.
Human maladies are in contrast with the Divine health,
death is in contrast to the Divine life. Here the whole
scope of the legislation regarding defilement has its
highest range of suggestion. It was a part of moral
education to realise that God was separate from all
distortion, wasting, and decay. In glad and deathless
power He reigned in the midst of Israel. From the
living God man received life which had to be kept pure
and disciplined. Among the Egyptians it was held
to be sacrilege when the operator, in the process
preparatory to embalming, opened a human body. He
who made the incision was driven out of the room by
his assistants with abuse and violence. Quite different
In this statute the punishment does not seem severe.
But the penalty is imposed after confession when the
offence has been for some time undetected. The
Noticeable particularly is the provision for atonement, which is nowhere else admitted in connection with a serious breach of the moral law. Any offence against the first four commandments was to be punished with death; so also were murder, adultery, and certain other crimes. It might have been expected that false swearing by any one in regard to theft or valuables intrusted to him would add to his guilt. Here, however, by means of the ram of atonement even that offence is apparently expiated. Possibly the confession is held to mitigate the crime. Still the nature of the statute is surprising and exceptional.
The ordeal to which the wife was to be subjected was twofold. One point was the imprecation of the Divine curse upon herself if she had been guilty. This oath was administered in terms and with ceremonies fitted to produce the most profound impression. She is set "before the Lord"—probably in the court of the sanctuary. Her hair is loose. She has the offering of jealousy in her hand—the tenth part of an ephah of barley-meal. The priest holds a basin of the "water of jealousy." The terms of the curse with its frightful consequences are not only repeated in her hearing, but written on a scroll which is dropped into the water. The second thing is her drinking of the "water of jealousy," "holy water" mingled with dust from the floor of the sanctuary, and with the terms of the curse. The nature of the ordeal was such that few guilty persons would have braved it. The only thing which appears wanting is a provision for the punishment of the man whose wife had passed the terrible test. Since the punishment of this crime was death, and he made the accusation without cause, his own judgment should have followed. Here, however, deference had to be paid to the notions of the time, as our Lord clearly indicates. The absolute right, the just equality between husband and wife, could not be established. Nor indeed, with all our progress, is it yet secured.
The ordeal of the water of jealousy must have saved
many an innocent life from wreck. In one sense it
was part of a system designed to maintain a high
standard of morality, and in that system it had a place
When the Nazirite vow was undertaken for a term, say thirty, sixty, or a hundred days, the law assumed its religious character, prescribed the conditions to be observed, the means of removing accidental defilement, and the ceremonies to be performed when the period of separation closed. Any man might devote himself without appealing to the priest or going through any religious rite; and in general his own conscience was depended on to make him rigidly attentive to his vow. There was to be no monastic association of Nazirites, no formal watch kept over their conduct. They mingled with others in ordinary life, and went about their business as at other times. But the unshorn hair distinguished them; they felt that the eye of God as well as the eyes of men were upon them, and walked warily under the sense of their pledge. The discharge which had to be given by the priest was a further check; it would have been withheld if any charge of laxity had been made against the Nazirite. The ceremonies of release were of a kind fitted to attract general attention.
The modern pledge of abstinence bears in various
points resemblance to the Nazirite vow. We can
easily believe that indulgence in strong drink was one
of the principal sins against which Naziritism testified.
And as in ancient Israel that body of abstainers from
the fruit of the vine, honourably known as a caste,
acknowledged by the Divine law, formed a constant
check on intemperance, so the existence of a large
On the other hand, the pledge of the total abstainer,
like the vow of the Nazirite, carries with it a certain
moral danger. One who, having come voluntarily
under such a pledge, allows himself to break it, suffers
a serious loss of spiritual power. The abstainer, like
the Nazirite, is his own witness, his own judge. But
if his pledge has been sacredly undertaken, solemnly
made, any breach of it is an offence to conscience, a
denial of obligation to God which must react on the
will and life. It was not by using strong drink that
Samson broke his vow of Naziritism, but in a far less
serious manner—by allowing his hair to be cut off.
Still his case is an instructive parable. The Spirit of
the Lord passed from him; he became weak as other
men, the prey of his enemies. The man who has come
under the bond of total abstinence, especially in a
It is hard to say why the peculiar defilement caused
by touching a dead body or being present at a death
is that alone on which special attention is fixed in the
Nazirite law (vi. 9 ff.). One would have expected the
other offence of using wine to be dealt with rather
than mere accidents, so to speak. We can see that
the law as it stands is one of many that must have
preceded the prophetic period. If Amos, for example,
had influenced the nature of the legislation regarding
Naziritism, it would have been in the direction of
making drunkenness rather than ceremonial uncleanness
a special point in the statutes. From beginning
to end of his prophecy he makes no distinct reference
to ceremonial defilement. But injustice, intemperance,
disaffection to Jehovah, are constantly and vehemently
denounced. Hosea, again, does refer to unclean food,
the necessity of eating which would be part of Israel's
punishment in exile. But he too, unless in this casual
reference, is a moralist—cares nothing, so far as his
language goes, for the contact with dead bodies or
any other ceremonial defilement. Judging a Nazirite,
he would certainly have regarded sobriety and purity
of life as the tests of consecration—drunkenness and
neglect of God as the sins that deserved punishment.
Hosea's condemnation of Israel is: "They have left
off to take heed to Jehovah. Whoredom and wine
and new wine take away the understanding." In
Ezekiel, whose schemes of worship and of priestly
work are declared to have been the origin of the
Priests' Code, the same tendency is to be found. He
The statute which applies to the discharge of the Nazirite from his rule (vi. 13-21) is exceedingly detailed, and contains provisions which on the whole seem fitted to deter rather than encourage the vow. The Nazirite could not escape from obligation as he had entered upon it, without priestly intervention and mediation. He had to offer an oblation,—one he-lamb of the first year for a burnt offering; one ewe-lamb of the first year for a sin offering; and for peace offerings a ram, with a basket of unleavened bread, cakes of fine flour mingled with oil, unleavened wafers anointed with oil; and meal offerings and drink offerings. These had to be presented by the priest in the prescribed manner. In addition to the possible cost of repeated cleansings which might be needful during the period of separation, the expense of those offerings must have been to many in a humble station almost prohibitory. We cannot help concluding that under this law, at whatever time it prevailed, Naziritism became the privilege of the more wealthy. Those who took the vow under the appointed conditions must have formed a kind of puritan aristocracy.
The final ceremonies included burning of the hair, which was carefully removed at the door of the tent of meeting. It was to be consumed in the fire under the peace offering, the idea being that the obligation of the vow and perhaps its sanctity had been identified with the flowing locks. The last rite of all was similar to that used in the consecration of priests. The sodden shoulder of the ram, an unleavened cake, and an unleavened wafer were to be placed on the hands of the Nazirite, and waved for a wave offering before the Lord—thereafter, with other parts of the sacrifice, falling to the priest. After that the man might drink wine, perhaps in a formal way at the close of the ceremonies.
To explain this elaborate ritual of discharge it has been affirmed that the idea of the vow "culminated in the sacrificial festival which terminated the consecration, and in this attained to its fullest manifestation." If this were so, ritualism was indeed predominant. To make such the underlying thought is to declare that the abstinence of the Nazirite from strong drink and dainties, to which a moralist would attach most importance, was in the eye of the law nothing compared to the symbolic feasting with God and the sacerdotal functions of the final ceremony. Far more readily would we assume that the ritual of the discharge was superfluously added to the ancient law at a time when the hierarchy was in the zenith of its power. But, as we have already seen, the final rites were of a kind fitted to direct public attention to the vow, and may have had their use chiefly in preventing any careless profession of Naziritism, tending to bring it into contempt.
One other question still demands consideration:
What was meant by the "sin offering" which had to
The whole circumstances show that the sin offering
has no reference to moral pollution. The idea is not
Generally speaking the whole system of purification enjoined by the ceremonial law, the constant succession of cleansings and sacrifices, must have appeared to be arbitrary. But it would be a mistake to suppose that there was no esoteric meaning, no purpose beyond that of keeping up the sense of religious duty and the need of mediation. Some intangible defilement seems to have been associated with everything mundane, everything human. The aim was to represent sanctity of a transcendent kind, the nature of which no words could express, for which the shedding of blood alone supplied a sufficiently impressive symbol.
2. The blessing which the priests were commissioned to pronounce on the people (vi. 24-26) was in the following terms:—
By means of this threefold benediction the name of Jehovah was to be put upon the children of Israel—that is to say, their consecration to Him as His accepted flock and their enjoyment of His covenant grace were to be signified. In a sense the invocation of this blessing was the highest function of the priest: he became the channel of spiritual endowment in which the whole nation shared.
It is a striking fact that the distinctive ideas conveyed
And in almost every Psalm the theme of Divine preservation is touched on either in thanksgiving, prayer, or exultant hope.
Often sorely pressed by the nations around, their land made the battle-field of empires, the Hebrews could comfort themselves with the assurance that Jehovah of Hosts was with them, that the God of Jacob was their refuge. And each son of Abraham had his own portion in the blessing.
The keynote of joyful confidence in the unseen King was struck in the benediction which, pronounced by Aaron and by the high-priests after him, associated Israel's safety with obedience to all the laws and forms of religion.
The second member of the blessing indicates under
the figure of the shining of Jehovah's face the revelation
of enlightening truth. Here are implied the
unfolding of God's character, the kindly disclosure
of His will in promise and prophecy, the opening to
the minds of men of those high and abiding laws that
govern their destiny. There is a forth-shining of the
Divine countenance which troubles and dismays the
human heart: "The face of the Lord is against them
that do evil." But here is denoted that gracious radiance
which came to its fulness in Christ. And of this
Divine shining Jacob Boehme writes: "As the sun in
the visible world ruleth over evil and good, and with its
light and power and all whatsoever itself is, is present
everywhere, and penetrates every being, and yet in its
image-like [symbolic] form doth not withdraw again
to itself with its efflux, but wholly giveth itself into
every being, and yet ever remaineth whole, and nothing
of its being goeth away therewith: thus also it is to be
understood concerning Christ's power and office which
ruleth in the inward spiritual world visibly, and in the
outward world invisibly, and throughly penetrateth the
faithful man's soul, spirit, and heart.... And as the sun
worketh through and through an herb so that the herb
becometh solar (or filled with the virtue of the sun, and
as it were so converted by the sun that it becometh
wholly of the nature of the sun): so Christ ruleth in
the resigned will in soul and body over all evil inclinations,
over Satan's introduced lust, and generateth the "Concerning the Holy Baptism," chap. i.
For the Hebrew people that shining of the face of
God became spiritual and potent for salvation less
through the law, the priesthood, and the ritual, than
through psalm and prophecy. Of the revelation of the
law Paul says, "The ministration of death written and
engraven on stones came with glory, so that the children
of Israel could not look steadfastly upon the face of
Moses, for the glory of his face." With such holy and
awful brightness did God appear in the law, that Moses
had to cover his face from which the splendour was
reflected. But the psalmist, pressing towards the light
with fine spiritual boldness and humility, could say,
"When Thou saidst, Seek ye My face; my heart said
unto Thee, Thy face, Lord, will I seek" (
In the third clause of the benediction the peace of
God, that calm of mind, conscience, and life which
accompanies salvation, is invoked. From the trouble
and sorrow and tumult of existence, from the fear of
hostile power, from evil influences seen and unseen, the
Divine hand will give salvation. It seems indeed to be
the meaning that the gracious regard of God is enough.
Are His people in affliction and anxiety? Jehovah's
look will deliver them. They will feel calmly safe as
if a shield were interposed between them and the
The peace of the human soul is not, however, entirely provided for by the assurance of Divine protection from hostile force. A man is not in perfect tranquillity because he belongs to a nation or a church defended by omnipotence. His own troubles and fears are the main causes of unrest. And the Spirit of God, who cleanses and renews the soul, is the true Peace-giver. "To win true peace a man needs to feel himself directed, pardoned, and sustained by a supreme power, to feel himself in the right road, at the point where God would have him to be—in order with God and the universe." In his heart the note of harmony must be struck deep and true, in profound reconciliation and unity with God. With this in view the oracles of Ezekiel connect renewal and peace. "I will put My Spirit in you, and ye shall live ... I will make a covenant of peace with them; it shall be an everlasting covenant with them ... and I will set My sanctuary in the midst of them for evermore."
The protection of God the Father, the grace and
truth of the Son, the comfort and peace of the Spirit—were
these, then, implied in Israel's religion and included
The account of the bringing of the offerings by the princes on twelve successive days, one Sabbath at least included, gives the impression of a festival display. The narrator dwells with some pride on the exhibition of religious zeal and liberality, a fine example set to the people by men in high position. The gifts had not been asked by Moses; they were purely voluntary. Considering the value of precious metals at the time, and the poverty of the Israelites, they were handsome, though not extravagant. It is estimated that the gold and silver of each prince would equal in value about seven hundred and thirty of our shillings, and so the whole amount contributed, without regarding the changed value of the metals, would be equivalent to some four hundred and thirty-eight pounds sterling. In addition there were the fine flour and oil, and the bullocks, rams, lambs, and kids for sacrifice.
It is an obvious remark here that spontaneous liberality
has in the very form of the narrative the very
highest commendation. Nothing could be more fitted
to create in the minds of the people respect for the
sanctuary and the worship associated with it than this
hearty dedication of their wealth by the heads of the
tribes. As the people saw the slow processions moving
Does the author of Numbers present an ideal for us
to keep in view in our dedication of riches to the service
of the Gospel? It was in full accord with the symbolic
nature of Hebrew religion that believers should enrich
the tabernacle and give its services an air of splendour.
Almost the only way for the Israelites to honour God
in harmony with their separation from others as His
people, was that of making glorious the house in which
He set His name, the whole arrangements for sacrifice
and festival and priestly ministration. In the temple
of Solomon that idea culminated which on this occasion
fixed the value and use of the princes' gifts. But
under Christianity the service of God is the service of
mankind. When the thought and labour of the disciples
of Christ are devoted to the needs of men there
is a tribute to the glory of God. "It has been said—it
is true—that a better and more honourable offering is
made to our Master in ministry to the poor, in extending
the knowledge of His name, in the practice of the
virtues by which that name is hallowed, than in material
gifts to His temple. Assuredly it is so: woe to all
who think that any other kind or manner of offering Ruskin, "Seven Lamps of Architecture."
But the liberality of the leaders of the tribes, and of all who in the times of the old covenant gave freely to the support of religion, stands before us to-day as a noble example. In greater gratitude for a purer faith, a larger hope, we should be more generous. Devoting ourselves first as living sacrifices, holy and acceptable to God, we should count it an honour to give in proportion to our ability. One after another, every prince, every father of a family, every servant of the Lord, to the poorest widow, should bring a becoming gift.
The chapter closes with a verse apparently quite
detached from the narrative as well as from what
follows, which, however, has a singular importance as
embodying the law of the oracle. "And when Moses
went into the tent of meeting to speak with Him, then
he heard the Voice speaking unto him from above the
Whatever is elsewhere said in regard to the Divine
communications that were given through Moses must be
interpreted by this general statement. The revelations
to Israel came in the silence and mystery of this place
of audience, when the leader of the people had withdrawn
from the bustle and strain of his common tasks.
He must be in the exalted mood this highest of all
offices requires. With patient, earnest soul he must
wait for the Word of God. There is nothing sudden,
The text goes on to state that the candlestick was
all of beaten work of gold; "unto the base thereof and
The attempt to fasten typical meanings to the seven lights of the candelabrum, to the ornaments and position, and especially to project those meanings into the Christian Church, has little warrant even from the Book of Revelation, where Christ speaks as "He that walketh in the midst of the seven golden candlesticks." There can be no doubt, however, that symbolic references may be found, illustrating in various ways the subjects of revelation and the Christian life.
The "tent of meeting" may represent to us that
chamber or temple of reverent inquiry where the
voice of the Eternal is heard, and His glory and
holiness are realised by the seeker after God. It is
a chamber silent, solemn, and dark, curtained in such
gloom, indeed, that some have maintained there is no
revelation to be had, no glimpse of Divine life or love.
But as the morning sunshine flowed into the Holy
Place when the hangings were drawn aside, so from
the natural world light may enter the chamber in which
fellowship with God is sought. "The invisible things
of Him since the creation of the world are clearly seen,
being perceived through the things that are made, even
His everlasting power and divinity." The world is not
God, its forces are not in the true sense elemental—do
not belong to the being of the Supreme. But it bears
witness to the infinite mind, the omnipotent will it
cannot fitly represent. In the silence of the tent of
meeting, when the light of nature shines through the
Yet the light of the natural world shining thus into the sacred chamber, while it aids the seeker after God in no small degree, fails at a certain point. It is too hard and glaring for the hour of most intimate communion. By night, as it were, when the world is veiled and silent, when the soul is shut alone in earnest desire and thought, then it is that the highest possibilities of intercourse with the unseen life are realised. And then, as the seven-branched candlestick with its lamps illuminated the Holy Place, a radiance which belongs to the sanctuary of life must supply the soul's need. On the curtained walls, on the altar, on the veil whose heavy folds guard the most holy mysteries, this light must shine. Nature does not reveal the life of the Ever-Living, the love of the All-Loving, the will of the All-Holy. In the conscious life and love of the soul, created anew after the plan and likeness of God in Christ,—here is the light. The unseen God is the Father of our spirits. The lamps of purified reason, Christ-born faith and love, holy aspiration, are those which dispel the darkness on our side the veil. The Word and the Spirit give the oil by which those lamps are fed.
Must we say that with the Father, Christ also, who
once lived on earth, is in the inner chamber which our
gaze cannot penetrate? Even so. A thick curtain is
Again, the symbolism of the candlestick has an
application suggested by
Dark was the outer chamber of the great temple
when the Light of life first shone, and the darkness
comprehended it not. When the Church was organised,
and the apostles of our Lord, bearing the gospel of
Divine grace, went through the lands, they addressed a
world still under the veil of which Isaiah spoke. But
the spiritual enlightenment of mankind proceeded; the
lamps of the candlestick, set in their places, showed
the new altar, the new table of heavenly bread, a feast
spread for all nations, and made the ignorant and
earthly aware that they stood within a temple consecrated
by the offering of Christ. St. John saw in Asia,
amid the gross darkness of its seven great cities, seven
lamp-stands with their lights, some increasing, some
waning in brightness. The sacred flame was carried
from country to country, and in every centre of population
True, the world had its philosophy and poetry, using, often with no little power, the themes of natural religion. In the outer chamber of the temple the light of nature gleamed on the altar, on the shewbread, on the veil. But interpretation failed, faith in the unseen was mixed with dreams, no real knowledge was gained of what the folds of the curtain hid—the mercy-seat, the holy law that called for pure worship and love of one Living and True God. And then the darkness that fell when the Saviour hung on the cross, the darkness of universal sin and condemnation, was made so deeply felt that in the shadow of it the true light might be seen, and the lamp of every church might glow, a beacon of Divine mercy shining across the troubled life of man. And the world has responded, will respond, with greater comprehension and joy, as the Gospel is proclaimed with finer spirit, embodied with greater zeal in lives of faith and love. Christ in the truth, Christ in the sacraments, Christ in the words and deeds of those who compose His Church—this is the light. The candlestick of every life, of every body of believers, should be as of beaten gold, no base metal mixed with that which is precious. He who fashions his character as a Christian is to have the Divine idea before him and re-think it; those who build the Church are to seek its purity, strength, and grace. But still the light must come from God, not from man, the light that burned on the altar of the Divine sacrifice and shines from the glorious personality of the risen Lord.
For chap. viii. 5-26 see p. 39.
On every male Israelite old enough to understand
Regarding the Passover in the wilderness, difficulties
have been raised on the ground that a sufficient number
of lambs, males of the first year, could scarcely have
been provided, and that the sacrificing of the lambs by
Aaron and his two sons within the prescribed time
would have been impossible. The second point of
difficulty disappears if this Passover was, as we have
seen reason to believe, a family festival like that observed
on the occasion of the exodus. Again, the number of
yearling male lambs required would depend on the
number who partook of the feast. Calculations made on
the basis that one lamb sufficed for about fifteen, and
that men alone ate the Passover, leave the matter in
apparent doubt. Some fifty thousand lambs would still
be needed. Keeping by the enumeration of the Israelites
given in the muster-roll of Numbers, some writers
explain that the desert tribes might supply large
numbers of lambs, and that kids also were available.
The difficulty, however, remains, and it is one of those
The case of certain men who could not partake of the Passover in the first month, because they were unclean through the dead, was brought before Moses and Aaron. The men felt it to be a great loss of privilege, especially as the march was about to begin, and they might not have another opportunity of observing the feast. Who indeed could tell whether in the first conflict it might not be his lot to fall by the sword? "We are unclean by the nephesh of a man," they said: "wherefore are we kept back, that we may not offer the oblation of the Lord in its appointed season among the children of Israel?" The result of the appeal was the new law providing that two disabilities, and two only, should be acknowledged. The supplementary Passover of the second month was appointed for those unclean by the dead, and those on a journey who found themselves too far off to reach in time the precincts of the sanctuary. Those unclean would be in a month presumably free from defilement; those on a journey would probably have returned. The concession is a note of the gracious reasonableness that in many ways distinguished the Hebrew religion; and the Passover observances of Jews at the present day are based on the conviction that what is practicable is accepted by God, though statute and form cannot be kept.
The question presents itself, why keeping of the
Passover should be necessary to covenant union with
Jehovah. And the reply bears on Christian duty with
regard to the analogous sacrament of the Lord's Supper,
for it rests on the historical sanction and continuity
Remarkable is the congruity between the view of the
law presented by Paul and the fact that the great
commemorative feast of Hebraism is attached, not to
the legislation of Sinai, but to the rescue from Egyptian
bondage. The law kept the Hebrew nation in ward
(
Mr. Morley has said, not without reason, that "the
modern argument in favour of the supernatural origin
of the Christian religion, drawn from its suitableness
to our needs and its Divine response to our aspirations,"
is insufficient to prove it the absolute religion. "The
argument," he says, "can never carry us beyond the
relativity of religious truth." "Voltaire," by John Morley, ed. 1891, pp. 254, 255.
Ewald's view is that the smoke of the altar which
went up in a thick column, visible at a great distance
by day, ruddy with flame by night, was the origin of
the conception. There are various objections to this
theory, which the author of it himself finds difficult to
reconcile with many of the statements. At the same
time the pillar of cloud does not need to be thought of
as in any respect a more Divine symbol than others
which were associated with the tabernacle. Certainly
the ark of the covenant which Bezaleel made according
to the instructions of Moses was, far beyond anything
else, the sacred centre around which the whole of the
worship gathered, the mysterious emblem of Jehovah's
character, the guarantee of His presence with Israel.
It was from the space above the mercy-seat, as we
have seen, that the Voice proceeded, not from the pillar
of cloud. The sanctity of the ark was so great that it
was never exposed to the view of the people, nor even
of the Levites who were set apart to carry it. The
cloud, on the other hand, was seen by all, and had its
Now assuming, in harmony with the reference in Isaiah, that the cloud was one of smoke, some may be disposed to think that, like the ark of the covenant, the holiest symbol of all, this was produced by human intervention, yet in a way not incompatible with its sacredness, its mystery, and value as a sign of Jehovah's presence. Where Moses was as leader, lawgiver, prophet, mediator, there God was for this people: what Moses did in the spirit of Divine zeal and wisdom was done for Israel by God. Through his inspiration the ritual and its elaborate symbolism had their origin. And is it not possible that after the manner of the emblem of Jehovah which appeared in the desert of Horeb the fire and cloud were now realised? While some may adopt this explanation, others again will steadily believe that the appearance and movements of the cloud were quite apart from human device or agency.
Scarcely any difficulty greater than that connected
with the pillar of cloud presents itself to thoughtful
modern readers of the Pentateuch. The traditional
view, apparently involved in the narrative, is that in
this cloud and in this alone Jehovah revealed Himself
in the interval between His appearance to Jacob and,
long afterwards, to Joshua in angelic form. Many
will maintain that unless the cloud was of supernatural
origin the whole relation of the Israelites to their
Divine King must fall into shadow. Was not this one
of the miracles which made Hebrew history different
in kind from that of every other nation? Is it not one
of the revelations of the Unseen God on which we
must build if we are to have sure faith in the Old
Yet, it may be argued, since we have now the
revelation of God in the human life of Christ and the
gospel of salvation through the ministry of men, what
need is there to doubt that, for the guidance of a people
from place to place in the wilderness, the wisdom,
foresight, and faithfulness of an inspired man were the
appointed means? It is admitted that in many things
Moses acted for Jehovah, that his mind received in
idea, and his intellectual skill expressed in verbal form,
the laws and statutes which were to maintain Israel's
relation to God as a covenant people. We follow our
Lord Himself in saying that Moses gave Israel the law.
But the legislation of the Decalogue was far more of
the nature of a disclosure of God, and had far higher
aims and issues than could be involved in the guidance
through the desert. The law was for the spiritual
nature of the Hebrews. It brought them into relation
with God as just, pure, true, the sole source of moral
life and progress. As the nucleus of the covenant it
was symbolic in a sense that fire could never be. It
may be asked, then, What need is there to doubt that
Moses had his part in this symbol which has so long
appeared, more than the other, important as a nexus
between heaven and earth? To interpret the words
"whenever the cloud was taken up from over the
tent," as meaning that it was self-moved, would imply
And further, it may be said, the pillar of cloud and
fire retains the whole of its value as a symbol when
the intervention of Moses is admitted; and this may
be proved by the analogy of other emblems. Almost
parallel to the cloud, for instance, is the serpent of
brass, which became a sign of Jehovah's healing power,
and conveyed new life to those who looked towards it
in faith. The fact that this rude image of a serpent
was made by human hands did not in the least impair
its value as an instrument of deliverance, and the
efficacy of that particular symbol was selected by Christ
as an illustration of His own redeeming energy which
was to be gained through the cross: "As Moses
lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must
the Son of man be lifted up." For certain occasions
and needs of a people one symbol avails; in other
circumstances there must be other signs. The smoke-cloud
was not enough when the serpents terrified the
host. Elijah in this same desert saw a flashing fire;
In the course of the passage (ix. 17-23) the manner
of the guidance given by means of the cloud is carefully
detailed. Sometimes the tribes remained encamped
for many days, sometimes only from evening
to morning. "Whether it were two days, or a month,
or a year, that the cloud tarried on the tabernacle,
abiding thereon, the children of Israel remained encamped,
and journeyed not: but when it was taken
up, they journeyed." Here is emphasised the authority
which lay in "the commandment of the Lord by the
hand of Moses" (ver. 23). For Israel, as for every
nation that is not lost in the desert of the centuries,
and every society that is not on the way to confusion,
there must be wise guidance and cordial submission
thereto. We are not, however, saved now, as the
Israelites were, by a great movement of society, or
even of the Church. Individually we must see the
signal of the Divine will, and march where it points the
way. And in a sense there are no rests of many days.
Each morning the cloud moves forward; each morning
we must strike our tents. Our march is in the way
of thought, of moral and spiritual progress; and if we
live in any real sense, we shall press on along that
way. The indication of duty, the guidance in thought
which we are to follow, impose a Divine obligation
none the less that they are communicated through the
Thus, we may say, the general direction runs; and in the changing circumstances of the Church submission is given by its members to those who hold command at once from the Lord Himself and from His people. But in the details of duty each must follow the guidance of a cloud that marks his own path to his own eye.
There is no need to question the early use of these instruments; nevertheless, the legislation in our passage assumes the settlement in Canaan, and times when defensive war became necessary and the observance of the sacred feasts fell into a fixed order. The statute is instructive as to the meaning of the formula "The Lord spake unto Moses," and not less as to the gradual accretion of particulars around an ancient nucleus. We cannot set aside the sincere record, though it may seem to make Jehovah speak on matters of small importance. But interpretation must spring from a right understanding of the purpose suggested to the mind of Moses. Uses found for the trumpets in the course of years are simply extensions of the germinal idea of reserving for sacred use those instruments and the art they represented. It was well that whatever fear or exhilaration the sounding of them caused should be controlled by those who were responsible to God for the moral inspiration of the people.
According to the statute, the two trumpets, which
were of very simple make, and capable of only a few
notes, had their use first in calling assemblies. A
long peal blown on one trumpet summoned the princes
who were the heads of the thousands of Israel: a long
peal on both trumpets called the whole congregation
to the "tent of meeting." There were occasions
when these assemblies were required not for deliberation,
but to hear in detail the instructions and orders of
A sacred obligation lay on the Israelites to obey the summons, whether for joy or sorrow. They heard in the trumpet-blast the very voice of God. And upon us, bound to His service by a more solemn and gracious covenant, rests an obligation even more commanding. The unity of the tribes of Israel, and their fellowship in the obedience and worship of Jehovah, could never be of half so much importance as the unity of Christians in declaring their faith and fulfilling their vocation. To come together at the call of recurring opportunity, that we may confess Christ and hear His word anew, is essential to our spiritual life. Those who hear the call should know its urgency and promptly respond, lest in the midst of the holiest light there come to be a shadow of deep darkness, the midnight gloom of paganism and death.
Again, in the wilderness, the trumpets gave the signal for striking the camp and setting out on a new stage of the journey. Blown sharply by way of alarm, the peals conveyed now to one, now to another part of the host the order to advance. The movement of the pillar of cloud, we may assume, could not be seen everywhere, and this was another means of direction, not only of a general kind, but with some detail.
Taking vv. 5, 6, along with the passage beginning
at ver. 14, we have an ideal picture of the order of
movement. One peal, sharply rung out from the
And so it is in the case of every social and religious
movement. Clear enough may be the command to
advance, the trumpet of Providence, the clarion of the
Gospel. But men and women are undisciplined in
obedience and faith. They have many burdens of a
personal kind to bear, many private differences and
quarrels. How very seldom can the great Leader
find prompt response to His will, though the terms of
it are distinctly conveyed and the demand is urgent!
God makes a plan for us, opens our way, shows us our
need, proclaims the fit hours; but our unbelief and
fear and incapacity impede the march. Nevertheless,
Turning now to the uses of the silver trumpets after the settlement in Canaan, there is first that connected with war. The people are presumed to be living peaceably in their country; but some neighbouring power has attacked them. The sounding of the trumpets then is to be of the nature of a prayer to the Divine Protector of the nation. The cry of the dependent tribes will be gathered up, as it were, into the shrill blast which carries the alarm to the throne of the Lord of Hosts. To the army and to the nation assurance is given that the old promise of Jehovah's favour remains in force, and that the promise, claimed by the priests according to the covenant, will be fulfilled. And this will make the trumpet-blast exhilarating, a presage of victory. The claim and hope of the nation rise heavenward. The men of war stand together in faith, and put to flight the armies of the aliens.
For the battles we have to fight, the conflicts of faith
with unbelief, and righteousness with aggressive iniquity,
an inspiration is needed like that conveyed to Israel in
the peal of the silver trumpets. Have we any means
of assurance resembling that which was to animate the
Hebrews when the enemy came upon them? Even
the need is often unrecognised. Many take for granted
that religion is safe, that the truth requires no valour
of theirs in maintaining it, and the Gospel of Christ no
spirited defence. The trumpet is not heard because
the duty to which all Christians are called as helpers
of the Gospel is never considered. Messages are
accepted as oracles of God only when they tell the
But there are for all Christians frequent calls to a service in which they need the courage of faith and every hope the covenant can give. At the present time no greater mistake is possible than to sit in comfort under the shadow of ancient forms and creeds. We cannot realise the value of the promise given to genuine faith unless we abandon the crumbling walls and meet our assailants in the open ground, where we can see them face to face, and know the spirit with which they fight, the ensigns of their war. There is no brave thinking now in those old shelters, no room to use the armour of light. Christianity is one of the free forces of human life. Its true inspiration is found only when those who stand by it are bent on securing and extending the liberties of men. The trumpets that lift to heaven the prayers of the faithful and fill the soldiers of the Cross with the hope of victory can never be in the hands of those who claim exclusive spiritual authority, nor will they ever again sound the old Hebrew note. They inspire those who are generous, who feel that the more they give the more they are blessed, who would impart to others their own life that God's love to the world may be known. They call us not to defend our own privileges, but to keep the way of salvation open to all, to prevent the Pharisee and the unbeliever from closing against men the door of heavenly grace.
Once more; in the days of gladness and solemn
feasting the trumpets were to be blown over the burnt
We claim with gentler sounds, those of lowly prayer and pleading, the help of the Most High. Even in the secret chamber when the door is shut we can address our Father, knowing that our claim will be answered for the sake of Christ. Yet there are times when the loud and clear hallelujahs, borne heavenward by human voices and pealing organ, seem alone to express our exultation. Then the instruments and methods of modern art may be said to bind the old Hebrew times, the ancient faith of the wilderness and of Zion, to our own. We carry out ideas that lie at the heart of the race; we realise that human skill, human discovery, find their highest use and delight when they make beautiful and inspiring the service of God.
Suppose we receive the explanation that the numbers
have been accidentally increased in the transcription of
records. This would relieve the narrative, not only
here but at many points, of a burden it can hardly
carry. And we remember that according to the Book
of Nehemiah less than fifty thousand Jews, returning
from Babylon at the close of the captivity, reconstructed
It has been suggested that the order of march as
described did not continue to be kept throughout the
whole of the wilderness journey; that in point of fact
it may have been followed only so far as Kadesh.
Whether this was so or not it must be taken into
account that for the greater part of the forty years
there was absolutely no travelling; the tribes were
settled in the wilderness of Paran. The proofs are
incidental but conclusive. From a central point,
where the cloud rested (
While Jethro remained in the camp his counsel was
given in regard to the manner of administering justice.
In accordance with it rulers of thousands, hundreds,
fifties, and tens were chosen, "able men, such as feared
God, men of truth, hating covetousness"; and to them
matters of minor importance were referred for judgment,
It does not appear that any attempt was made to
attach Jethro and the whole of his tribe to the fortunes
of Israel. The small company of the Kenites could
travel far more swiftly than a great host, and, if they
desired, could easily overtake the march. Moses, we
are told, let his father-in-law depart, and he went to
his own place. But now that the long stay of the
Israelites at Sinai is over and they are about to advance
to Canaan, the visit of a portion of the Kenite tribe is
made the occasion of an appeal to their leader to cast
in his lot with the people of God. There is some
confusion in regard to the relationship of Hobab with
Jethro or Raguel. Whether Hobab was a son or
grandson of the chief cannot be made out. The word
translated father-in-law (
There was a fascination in the movement of that
people who, rescued from bondage by their Heavenly
Friend, were on their journey to the land of His
promise. This fascination Hobab and his followers
appear to have felt; and Moses counted upon it. The
Kenites, used to the wandering life, accustomed to
And Moses had right in saying, "Come with us, and
we will do thee good; for Jehovah hath spoken good
concerning Israel." The outlook to a future was
something which the Kenites as a people had not, never
could have in their desultory life. Unprogressive, out
of the way of the great movements of humanity,
gaining nothing as generations went by, but simply
reproducing the habits and treasuring the beliefs of
their fathers, the Arab tribe might maintain itself, might
occasionally strike for righteousness in some conflict,
but otherwise had no prospect, could have no enthusiasm.
They would live their hard life, they would
enjoy freedom, they would die—such would be their
history. Compared with that poor outlook, how good
it would be to share the noble task of establishing on
the soil of Canaan a nation devoted to truth and
righteousness, in league with the living God, destined
to extend His kingdom and make His faith the
means of blessing to all. It was the great opportunity
of these nomads. As yet, indeed, there was no courage
of religion, no brightness of enthusiasm among the
Now these Kenites may be taken as representing a class, in the present day to a certain extent attracted, even fascinated, by the Church, who standing irresolute are appealed to in terms like those addressed by Moses to Hobab. They feel a certain charm, for in the wide organisation and vast activity of the Christian Church, quite apart from the creed on which it is based, there are signs of vigour and purpose which contrast favourably with endeavours directed to mere material gain. In idea and in much of its effort the Church is splendidly humane, and it provides interests, enjoyments, both of an intellectual and artistic kind, in which all can share. Not so much its universality nor its mission of converting the world, nor its spiritual worship, but rather the social advantages and the culture it offers draw towards it those minds and lives. And to them it extends, too often without avail, the invitation to join its march.
Is it asked why many, partly fascinated, remain proof
against its appeals? why an increasing number prefer,
like Hobab, the liberty of the desert, their own unattached,
desultory, hopeless way of life? The answer
must partly be that, as it is, the Church does not fully
commend itself by its temper, its enthusiasm, its
sincerity and Christianity. It attracts but is unable to
command, because with all its culture of art it does not
appear beautiful, with all its claims of spirituality it is
not unworldly; because, professing to exist for the
redemption of society, its methods and standards are
It is a question which every body of Christians has
need to ask itself—Can we honestly say to those
without, Come with us, and we will do you good?
In order that there may be certainty on this point,
should not every member of the Church be able to
testify that the faith he has gives joy and peace, that
his fellowship with God is making life pure and strong
and free? Should there not be a clear movement of
the whole body, year by year, towards finer spirituality,
broader and more generous love? The gates of
membership are in some cases opened to such only
as make very clear and ample profession. It does
not, however, appear that those already within have
always the Christian spirit corresponding to that high
profession. And yet as Moses could invite Hobab and
his company without misgiving because Jehovah was
The first invitation given to Hobab was set aside.
"Nay," he said, "I will not go; but I will depart to
my own land and to my kindred." The old ties of
country and people were strong for him. The true
Arab loves his country passionately. The desert is
his home, the mountains are his friends. His hard
life is a life of liberty. He is strongly attached to his
tribe, which has its own traditions, its own glories.
There have been feuds, the memory of which must be
cherished. There are heirlooms that give dignity to
those who possess them. The people of the clan are
brothers and sisters. Very little of the commercial
Freedom, habit, the hopes that have become part of
life—these in like manner interpose between many
and a call which is known to be from God. There is
restraint within the circle of faith; old ideas, traditional
conceptions of life, and many personal ambitions have
to be relinquished by those who enter it. Accustomed
to that Midian where every man does according to the
bent of his own will, where life is hard but uncontrolled,
where all they have learned to care for and desire may
be found, many are unwilling to choose the way of
religion, subjection to the law of Christ, the life of
spiritual conflict and trial, however much may be gained
at once and in the eternal future. Yet the liberty of
their Midian is illusory. It is simply freedom to spend
strength in vain, to roam from place to place where all
alike are barren, to climb mountains lightning-riven,
swept by interminable storms. And the true liberty is
with Christ, who opens the prospect of the soul, and
redeems the life from evil, vanity, and fear. The
heavenward march appears to involve privation and
conflict, which men do not care to face. But is the
Passing on, the narrative informs us that Moses used another plea: "Leave us not, I pray thee; forasmuch as thou knowest how we are to encamp in the wilderness, and thou shalt be to us instead of eyes." Hobab did not respond to the promise of advantage to himself; he might be moved by the hope of being useful. Knowing that he had to deal with a man who was proud, and in his way magnanimous, Moses wisely used this appeal. And he used it frankly, without pretence. Hobab might do real and valuable service to the tribes on their march to Canaan. Accustomed to the desert, over which he had often travelled, acquainted with the best methods of disposing a camp in any given position, with the quick eye and habit of observation which the Arab life gives, Hobab would be the very adjutant to whom Moses might commit many details. If he joins the tribes on this footing it will be without pretence. He professes no greater faith either in Israel's destiny or in Jehovah's sole Godhead than he really feels. Wishing Israel well, interested in the great experiment, yet not bound up in it, he may give his counsel and service heartily so far as they avail.
We are here introduced to another phase of the
relation between the Church and those who do not
We cannot say that the example of Moses should be
taken as a rule for Christians. It was one thing to invite
the co-operation with Israel for a certain specified purpose
of an Arab chief who differed somewhat in respect
of faith; it would be quite another thing to invite one
whose faith, if he has any, is only a vague theism, to
give his support to Christianity. Yet the cases are so
far parallel that the one illustrates the other. And one
point appears to be this, that the Church may show
itself at least as sympathetic as Israel. Is there but a
single note of unison between a soul and Christianity?
Let that be recognised, struck again and again till it
But the analogy of the invitation to Hobab involves
another point which must always be kept in view. It
is this, that the Church is not to slacken her march not
In modern alliances with the Church a danger is
involved, sufficiently apparent to all who regard the
state of religion. History is full of instances in which,
to one company of helpers and another, too much
has been conceded; and the march of spiritual Christianity
is still greatly impeded by the same thing.
Money contributed, by whomsoever, is held to give
the donors a right to take their place in councils of
the Church, or at least to sway decision now in one
direction, now in another. Prestige is offered with the
Every Church has great need at present to consider
whether that clear spiritual aim which ought to be the
constant guide is not forgotten, at least occasionally,
for the sake of this or that alliance supposed to be
advantageous. It is difficult to find the mean, difficult
to say who serve the Church, who hinder its success.
More difficult still is it to distinguish those who are
heartily with Christianity from those who are only so
in appearance, having some nostrum of their own to
promote. Hobab may decide to go with Israel; but
the invitation he accepts, perhaps with an air of
superiority, of one conferring a favour, is really extended
to him for his good, for the saving of his life.
The closing verses of chap. x. (33-6), belonging, like the passage just considered, to the prophetic narrative, affirm that the ark was borne from Sinai three days' journey before the host to find a halting-place. The reconciliation between this statement and the order which places the ark in the centre of the march, may be that the ideal plan was at the outset not observed, for some sufficient reason. The absolute sincerity of the compilers of the Book of Numbers is shown in their placing almost side by side the two statements without any attempt to harmonise. Both were found in the ancient documents, and both were set down in good faith. The scribes into whose hands the old records came did not assume the rôle of critics.
At the beginning of every march Moses is reported
to have used the chant: "Rise up, O Jehovah, and
let Thine enemies be scattered; and let them that hate
Thee flee before Thee." When the ark rested he
said: "Return, O Jehovah, unto the ten thousands
of the thousands of Israel." The former is the opening
Through the wilderness Israel went, not knowing
from what quarter the sudden raid of a desert people
might be made. Swiftly, silently, as if springing out
of the very sand, the Arab raiders might bear down
upon the travellers. They were assured of the
guardianship of Him whose eye never slumbered, when
they kept His way and held themselves at His command.
Here the resemblance to our case in the
journey of life is clear; and we are reminded of our
need of defence and the only terms on which we may
expect it. We may look for protection against those
who are the enemies of God. But we have no warrant
for assuming that on whatever errand we are bound
we have but to invoke the Divine arm in order to be
secure. The dreams of those who think their personal
claim on God may always be urged have no countenance
in the prayer, "Rise up, O Jehovah, and let Thine
enemies be scattered." And as Israel settling to rest
after some weary march could enjoy the sense of
Jehovah's presence only if the duties of the day had
Generally men do not realise that their murmuring
is against God. They have no intention to accuse His
providence. It is of other men they complain, who
come in their way; of accidents, so called, for which
no one seems to be responsible; of regulations, well
enough meant, which at some point prove vexatious;
the obtuseness and carelessness of those who undertake
but do not perform. And there does seem to be a
great difference between displeasure with human agents
whose follies and failures provoke us, and discontent
with our own lot and its trials. At the same time, this
The punishment of those who complained is spoken
of as swift and terrible. "The fire of the Lord burnt
among them, and devoured in the uttermost part of the
camp." This judgment falls under a principle assumed
throughout the whole book, that disaster must overtake
transgressors, and conversely that death by pestilence,
earthquake, or lightning is invariably a result of sin.
For the Israelites this was one of the convictions that
maintained a sense of moral duty and of the danger
of offending God. Again and again in the wilderness,
where thunderstorms were common and plagues spread
rapidly, the impression was strongly confirmed that
the Most High observed everything that was done
against His will. The journey to Canaan brought in
this way a new experience of God to those who had
From the disaster at Taberah the narrative passes to another phase of complaint in which the whole camp was involved. The dissatisfaction began amongst the "mixed multitude"—that somewhat lawless crowd of low-caste Egyptians and people of the Delta and the wilderness who attached themselves to the host. Among them first, because they had absolutely no interest in Israel's hope, a disposition to quarrel with their circumstances would naturally arise. But the spirit of dissatisfaction grew apace, and the burden of the new complaint was: "We have nought but this manna to look to." The part of the desert into which the travellers had now penetrated was even more sterile than Midian. Hitherto the food had been varied somewhat by occasional fruits and the abundant milk of kine and goats. But pasturage for the cattle was scanty in the wilderness of Paran, and there were no trees of any kind. Appetite found nothing that was refreshing. Their soul was dried away.
It was a common belief in our Lord's time that the
manna, falling from heaven, very food of the angels,
had been so satisfying, so delicious, that no people
could have been more favoured than those who ate of
it. When Christ spoke of the meat which endureth
unto eternal life, the thought of His hearers immediately
turned to the manna as the special gift of God to their
fathers, and they conceived an expectation that Jesus
would give them that bread of heaven, and so prove
Himself worthy of their faith. But He replied, "Moses
gave you not that bread out of heaven, but My Father
In the course of time the manna had been, so to speak, glorified. It appeared to the later generations one of the most wonderful and impressive things recorded in the whole history of their nation, this provision made for the wandering host. There was the water from the rock, and there was the manna. What a benignant Providence had watched over the tribes! How bountiful God had been to the people in the old days! They longed for a sign of the same kind. To enjoy it would restore their faith and put them again in the high position which had been denied for ages.
But these notions are not borne out by the history
as we have it in the passage under notice. Nothing
is said about angels' food—that is a poetical expression
which a psalmist used in his fervour. Here we read,
as to the coming of the manna, that when the dew fell
upon the camp at night the manna fell upon it, or
with it. And so far from the people being satisfied,
they complained that instead of the fish and onions,
cucumbers and melons of Egypt, they had nothing but
manna to eat. The taste of it is described as like that
of fresh oil. In Exodus it is said to have resembled
wafers mixed with honey. It was not the privilege
of the Israelites in the wilderness but their necessity
to live on this somewhat cloying food. In no sense
can it be called ideal. Nevertheless, complaining
about it, they were in serious fault, betraying the
foolish expectation that on the way to liberty they
should have no privations. And their discontent with
the manna soon became alarming to Moses. A sort
of hysteria spread through the camp. Not the women
God, through His providence, determining for men, carrying out His own designs for their good, does not allow them to keep in the region of the usual and of mere comfort. Something is brought into their life which stirs the soul. In new hope they begin an enterprise the course and end of which they cannot foresee. The conventional, the pleasant, the peace and abundance of Egypt, can be no longer enjoyed if the soul is to have its own. By Moses Jehovah summoned the Israelites from the land of plenty to fulfil a high mission; and when they responded, it was so far a proof that there was in them spirit enough for an uncommon destiny. But for the accomplishment of it they had to be nerved and braced by trial. Their ordeal was that mortifying of the flesh and of sensuous desire which must be undergone if the hopes through which the mind becomes conscious of the will of God are to be fulfilled.
In our personal history God, reaching us by His
word, enlightening us with regard to the true ends of
our being, calls us to begin a journey which has no
earthly terminus and promises no earthly reward. We
may be quite sure that we have not yet responded to
His call if there is nothing of the wilderness in our life,
no hardship, no adventure, no giving up of what is
good in a temporal sense for what is good in a spiritual
sense. The very essence of the design of God concerning
a man is that he leave the lower and seek
the higher, that he deny himself that which according
to the popular view is his life, in order to seek a
remote and lofty goal. There will be duty that calls
for faith, that needs hope and courage. In doing it
What is wrong with many lives is that they have
no strain in them as of a desert journey towards a
heavenly Canaan, the realisation of spiritual life. Adventure,
when it is undertaken, is often for the sake
of getting fish and melons and cucumbers by-and-by
in greater abundance and of better kinds. Many live
hardly just now, not because they are on the way to
spiritual freedom and the high destiny of life in God,
but because they believe themselves to be on the way
to better social position, to wealth or honour. But
take the life that has begun its high enterprise at the
urgency of a Divine vocation, and that life will find
hardness, deprivations, perils, of its own. It is not
given to us to be absolutely certain in decision and endeavour.
Out in the wilderness, even when manna is
provided, and the pillar of cloud seems to show the
way, the people of God are in danger of doubting
whether they have done wisely, whether they have not
taken too much upon themselves or laid too much upon
the Lord. The Israelites might have said, We have
obeyed God: why, then, should the sun smite us with
burning heat, and the dust-storms sweep down upon
our march, and the night fall with so bitter a chill?
Interminable toil, in travelling, in attending to cattle
and domestic duties, in pitching tents and striking
them, gathering fuel, searching far and wide through
the camp for food, helping the children, carrying the
sick and aged, toil that did not cease till far into the
night and had to be resumed with early morning—such,
no doubt, were the things that made life in the
wilderness irksome. And although many now have a
Let us thank God if we feel sometimes across the wilderness a breeze from the hills of the heavenly Canaan, and now and then catch glimpses of them far away. But the manna may seem flat and tasteless, nevertheless; the road may seem long; the sun may scorch. Tempted to despond, we need afresh to assure ourselves that God is faithful who has given us His promise. And although we seem to be led not towards the heavenly frontier, but often aside through close defiles into some region more barren and dismal than we have yet crossed, doubt is not for us. He knoweth the way that we take; when He has tried us, we shall come forth where He appoints.
From the people we turn to Moses and the strain he
had to bear as leader. Partly it was due to his sense
of the wrath of God against Israel. To a certain
extent he was responsible for those he led, for nothing
he had done was apart from his own will. The enterprise
was laid on him as a duty certainly; yet he
undertook it freely. Such as the Israelites were, with
that mixed multitude among them, a dangerous element
enough, Moses had personally accepted the leadership
of them. And now the murmuring, the lusting, the
childish weeping, fall upon him. He feels that he must
The position is one in which a leader of men often finds himself. Things are done which affront him personally, yet he cannot turn against the wayward and unbelieving, for, if he did, the cause would be lost. The Divine judgment of the transgressors falls on him all the more because they themselves are unaware of it. The burden such an one has to sustain points directly to the sin-bearing of Christ. Wounded to the soul by the wrong-doing of men, He had to interpose between them and the stroke of the law, the judgment of God. And may not Moses be said to be a type of Christ? The parallel may well be drawn; yet the imperfect mediation of Moses fell far short of the perfect mediation of our Lord. The narrative here reflects that partial knowledge of the Divine character which made the mediation of Moses human and erring for all its greatness.
For one thing Moses exaggerated his own responsibility. He asked of God: "Why hast Thou evil entreated Thy servant? Why dost Thou lay the burden of all this people upon me? Am I their father? Am I to carry the whole multitude as a father carries his young child in his bosom?" These are ignorant words, foolish words. Moses is responsible, but not to that extent. It is fit that he should be grieved when the Israelites do wrong, but not proper that he should charge God with laying on him the duty of keeping and carrying them like children. He speaks unadvisedly with his lips.
Responsibility of those who endeavour to lead others
has its limits; and the range of duty is bounded in
Then, on the other side, the power of God is beneath all, His care extends over all. Moses ought not for a moment to doubt Jehovah's mindfulness of His people. Men who hold office in society or the Church are never to think that their effort is commensurate with God's. Proud indeed he would be who said: "The care of all these souls lies on me: if they are to be saved, I must save them; if they perish, I shall be chargeable with their blood." Speaking ignorantly and in haste, Moses went almost that length; but his error is not to be repeated. The charge of the Church and of the world is God's; and He never fails to do for all and for each what is right. The teacher of men, the leader of affairs, with full sympathy and indefatigable love, is to do all he can, yet never trench on the responsibility of men for their own life, or assume to himself the part of Providence.
Moses made one mistake and went on to another. He was on the whole a man of rare patience and meekness; yet on this occasion he spoke to Jehovah in terms of daring resentment. His cry was to get rid of the whole enterprise: "If Thou deal thus with me, kill me, I pray Thee, out of hand, and let me not see my wretchedness." He seemed to himself to have this work to do and no other, apparently imagining that if he was not competent for this, he could be of no use in the world. But even if he had failed as a leader, highest in office, he might have been fit enough for a secondary place, under Joshua or some other whom God might inspire: this he failed to see. And although he was bound up in Israel's well-being, so that if the expedition did not prosper he had no wish to live, and was so far sincerely patriotic, yet what good end could his death serve? The desire to die shows wounded pride. Better live on and turn shepherd again. No man is to despise his life, whatever it is, however it may seem to come short of the high ambition he has cherished as a servant of God and men. Discovering that in one line of endeavour he cannot do all he would, let him make trial of others, not pray for death.
The narrative represents God as dealing graciously
with his erring servant. Help was provided for him
by the appointment of seventy elders, who were to
share the task of guiding and controlling the tribes.
These seventy were to have a portion of the leader's
spirit—zeal and enthusiasm like his own. Their influence
in the camp would prevent the faithlessness and
dejection which threatened to wreck the Hebrew enterprise.
Further, the murmuring of the people was to
be effectually silenced. Flesh was to be given them
The promise of flesh was speedily fulfilled by an extraordinary flight of quails, brought up, according to the seventy-eighth Psalm, by a wind which blew from the south and east—that is, from the Elanitic Gulf. These quails cannot sustain themselves long on the wing, and after crossing the desert some thirty or forty miles they would scarcely be able to fly. The enormous numbers of them which fluttered around the camp are not beyond ordinary possibility. Fowls of this kind migrate at certain seasons in such enormous multitudes that in the small island of Capri, near Naples, one hundred and sixty thousand have been netted in one season. When exhausted, they would easily be taken as they flew at a height of about two cubits above the ground. The whole camp was engaged in capturing quails from one morning to the evening of the following day; and the quantity was so great that he who gathered least had ten homers, probably a heap estimated to be of that measure. To keep them for further use the birds were prepared and spread on the ground to dry in the sun.
When the epidemic of weeping broke out through
the camp, the doubt occurred to Moses whether there
was any spiritual quality in the people, any fitness for
duty or destiny of a religious kind. They seemed to
be all unbelievers on whom the goodness of God and
the sacred instruction had been wasted. They were
earthly and sensual. How could they ever trust God
enough to reach Canaan?—or if they reached it, how
would their occupation of it be justified? They would
but form another heathen nation, all the worse that
Now there were two men, Eldad and Medad, who were of the seventy, but had not come to the tent of meeting, where the prophetic spirit fell upon the rest. They had not heard the summons, we may suppose. Unaware of what was taking place at the tabernacle, yet realising the honour conferred upon them, they were perhaps engaged in ordinary duties, or, having found some need for their interference, they may have been rebuking murmurers and endeavouring to restore order among the unruly. And suddenly they also, under the same influence as the other sixty-eight, began to prophesy. The spirit of earnestness caught them. With the same ecstasy they declared their faith and praised the God of Israel.
There was in one sense a limitation of the spirit of
prophecy, whatever it was. Of all the host only the
seventy received it. Other good men and true in
Israel that day might have seemed as capable of the
heavenly endowment as those who prophesied. It
But while in a sense there is restriction of the
spiritual influence, in another sense there is no restraint.
The Divine afflatus is not confined to those who have
gathered at the tabernacle. It is not place or occasion
that makes the prophets; it is the Spirit, the power
from on high entering into life; and out in the camp
the two have their portion of the new energy and zeal.
Spiritual influence, then, is not confined to any particular
place. Neither was the neighbourhood of the tabernacle
so holy that there alone the elders could receive their
gift; nor is any place of meeting, any church, capable
of such consecration and singular identification with the
service of God that there alone the power of the Divine
Spirit can be manifested or received. Let there be
a man chosen of God, ready for the duties of a holy
calling, and on that man the Spirit will come, wherever
he is, in whatever he is engaged. He may be employed
in common work, but in doing it he will be moved
to earnest service and testimony. He may be labouring,
under great difficulties, to restore the justice that has
been impaired by social errors and political chicanery—and
his words will be prophetic; he will be a witness
While Eldad and Medad prophesied in the camp,
a young man who heard them ran officiously to inform
Moses. To this young man as to others—for no doubt
there were many who loved and revered the Usual—the
two elders were presumptuous fools. The camp
was, as we say, secular: was it not? People in the
camp looked after ordinary affairs, tended their cattle,
chaffered and bargained, quarrelled about trifles, murmured
against Moses and against God. Was it right
to prophesy there, carrying religious words and ideas
into the midst of common life? If Eldad and Medad
could prophesy, let them go to the tabernacle. And
besides, what right had they to speak for Jehovah,
in Jehovah's name? Was not Moses the prophet, the
only prophet? Israel was accustomed to think him so,
would keep to that opinion. It would be confusing if
at any one's tent door a prophet might begin to speak
without warning. So the young man thought it his
duty to run and tell Moses what was taking place.
And Joshua, when he heard, was alarmed, and desired
Moses to put an end to the irregular ministry. "My
lord Moses, forbid them," he said. He was jealous not
for himself and the other elders, but for Moses' sake.
So far the leader alone held communication with Jehovah
and spoke in His name; and there was perhaps some
reason for the alarm of Joshua, more than was apparent
at the time. To have one central authority was better
and safer than to have many persons using the right
to speak in any sense for God. Who could be sure
that these new voices would agree with Moses in every
respect? Even if they did, might there not be divisions
in the camp, new priesthoods as well as new oracles?
In like manner it might be argued now that there is danger when one here and another there assume authority as revealers of the truth of things. Some, full of their own wisdom, take high ground as critics and teachers of religion. Others imagine that with the right to wear a certain dress there has come to them the full equipment of the prophet. And others still, remembering how Elijah and John the Baptist arrayed themselves in coarse cloth and leathern girdle, assume that garb, or what corresponds to it, and claim to have the prophetic gift because they express the voice of the people. So in our days there is a question whether Eldad or Medad, prophesying in the camp, ought to be trusted or even allowed to speak. But who is to decide? Who is to take upon him to silence the voices? The old way was rough and ready. All who were in office in a certain Church were commissioned to interpret Divine mysteries; the rest were ordered to be silent on pain of imprisonment. Those who did not teach as the Church taught, under her direction, were made offenders against the public well-being. That way, however, has been found wanting, and "liberty of prophesying" is fully allowed. With the freedom there have come difficulties and dangers enough. Yet to "try the spirits whether they are of God" is our discipline on the way to life.
The reply of Moses to Joshua's request anticipates,
in no small degree, the doctrine of liberty. "Art thou
jealous for my sake? Would God that all the Lord's
people were prophets, and that the Lord would put
His Spirit upon them." His answer is that of a broad
We can only wonder that still any order of men should try in the name of the Church to shut the mouths of those who approve themselves reverent students of the Divine Word. At the same time let it not be forgotten that the power of prophesying is no chance gift, no easy faculty. He who is to speak on God's behalf must indeed know the mind of God. How can one claim the right to instruct others who has never opened his mind to the Divine voice, who has not reverently compared Scripture with Providence and all the phases of revelation that are unfolded in conscience and human life? Men who draw a narrow circle and keep their thoughts within it can never become prophets.
The closing verses of the chapter tell of the plague
that fell on the lustful, and the burial of those who
died of it, in a place thence called Kibroth-hattaavah.
To be sure, the prophets did not all adopt this view.
All the more may this be maintained when we take
into account the likelihood that it was not entirely
without reason Aaron and Miriam felt some jealousy
of the woman. The story is usually taken to mean
that there was no cause whatever for the feeling
entertained; and if Miriam alone had been involved,
we might have regarded the matter as without significance.
But Aaron had hitherto acted cordially with
the brother to whom he owed his high position. Not
a single disloyal word or deed had as yet separated
him in the least, personally, from Moses. They wrought
So far as Moses is concerned these thoughts, which naturally arise, go to support the genuineness of the history. And in like manner the condemnation of Aaron bears out the view that the episode is not of legendary growth. If priestly influence had determined to any extent the form of the narrative, the fault of Aaron would have been suppressed. He agrees with Miriam in making a claim the rejection of which involves him and the priesthood in shame. And yet, again, the theory that here we have prophetic narrative, critical of the priesthood, will not stand; for Miriam is a prophetess, and language is used which seems to deny to all but Moses a clear and intimate knowledge of the Divine will.
Miriam was the spokeswoman. She it was, as the
Hebrew implies, who "spake against Moses because of
the Cushite woman whom he had married." It would
seem that hitherto in right of her prophetical gift she
was to some extent an adviser of her brother, or had
otherwise a measure of influence. It appeared to her
not only a bad thing for Moses himself but absolutely
wrong that a woman of alien race, who probably came
out of Egypt with the tribes, one among the mixed
Miriam's is an instance, the first instance we may say, of the woman's claim to take her place side by side with the man in the direction of affairs. It would be absurd to say that the modern desire has its origin in a spirit of jealousy like that which Miriam showed; yet, parallel to her demand, "Hath the Lord indeed spoken only by Moses? Hath he not also spoken by us?" is the recent cry, "Has man a monopoly either of wisdom or of the moral qualities? Are not women at least equally endowed with ethical insight and sagacity in counsel?" Long excluded from affairs by custom and law, women have become weary of using their influence in an unrecognised, indirect way, and many would now claim an absolute parity with men, convinced that if in any respect they are weak as yet they will soon become capable. The claim is to a certain extent based on the Christian doctrine of equality between male and female, but also on the acknowledged success of women who, engaging in public duties side by side with men, have proved their aptitude and won high distinction.
At the same time, those who have had experience
Miriam claimed the position of a prophet or nabi for
herself, and endeavoured to make her gift and Aaron's
as revealers of truth appear equal to that of Moses.
At the Red Sea she led the chorus "Sing ye to the
Lord, for He hath triumphed gloriously. The horse
and his rider hath He thrown into the sea." That,
so far as we know, was her title to count herself a
The little knowledge, the small gifts, appear great to
those who have them, so great as often to eclipse those
of nobler men. We magnify what we have,—our
power of vision, though we cannot see far; our spiritual
intelligence, though we have learned the first principles
only of Divine faith. In the religious controversies
of to-day, as in those of the past, men whose
claims are of the slightest have pushed to the front
with the demand, Hath not the Lord spoken by us?
But there is no Moses to be challenged. The age of
the revealers is gone. He who seems to be a great
prophet may be taken for one because he stands on the
past and invokes voluminous authority for all he says
and does. In truth, our disputations are between the
modern Eliphaz, Bildad, and Job—all of them to-day
men of limited view and meagre inspiration, who
repeat old hearsays with wearisome pertinacity, or
inveigh against the old interpretations with infinite
While Moses kept silence, ruling his spirit in the meekness of a man of God, suddenly the command was given, "Come out, ye three, unto the tent of meeting." Possibly the interview had been at Moses' own tent in the near portion of the camp. Now judgment was to be solemnly given; and the circumstances were made the more impressive by the removal of the cloud-pillar from above the tabernacle to the door of the tent, where it seems to have intervened between Moses on the one side and Miriam and Aaron on the other; then the Voice spoke, requiring these two to approach, and the oracle was heard. The subject of it was the position of Moses as the interpreter of Jehovah's will. He was distinguished from any other prophet of the time.
We are here at a point where more knowledge is
needful to a full understanding of the revelation: we
can only conjecture. Not long is it since the seventy
elders belonging to different tribes were endowed with
the spirit of prophecy. Already there may have been
some abuse of their new power; for though God
bestows His gifts on men, they have practical liberty,
and may not always be wise or humble in exercising
the gifts. So the need of a distinction between Moses
and the others would be clear. As to Miriam and
Aaron, their jealousy may have been not only of Moses,
but also of the seventy. Miriam and Aaron were
prophets of older standing, and would be disposed to
claim that the Lord spoke by them rather in the way
He spoke by Moses than after the manner of His
communications through the seventy. Were members
The Voice from the tent of meeting was heard
through the cloud; and on the one hand the function
of the prophet or nabi was defined, on the other the
high honour and prerogative of Moses were announced.
The prophet, said the Voice, shall have Jehovah made
known to him "in vision, or in dream,"—in his waking
hours, when the mind is on the alert, receiving impressions
from nature and the events of life; when
memory is occupied with the past and hope with the
future, the vision shall be given. Or again, in sleep,
when the mind is withdrawn from external objects and
appears entirely passive, a dream shall open glimpses
of the great work of Providence, the purposes of judgment
or of grace. In these ways the prophet shall
receive his knowledge; and of necessity the revelation
will be to some extent shadowed, difficult to interpret.
Now the name prophet, nabi, is continually applied
throughout the Old Testament, not only to the seventy
and others who like them spoke in ecstatic language, and
those who afterwards used musical instruments to help
the rapture with which the Divine utterance came, but
also to men like Amos and Isaiah. And it has been
made a question whether the inspiration of these prophets
Now, returning to the oracle, we find that Moses is
not a prophet or nabi in this sense. The words that
relate to him carefully distinguish between his illumination
and that of the nabi. "My servant Moses is not
so; he is faithful in all Mine house: with him will I
speak mouth to mouth, even manifestly, and not in
dark speeches; and the form of Jehovah shall he
behold." Every word here is chosen to exclude the
idea of ecstasy, the idea, of vision or dream, which
leaves some shadow of uncertainty upon the mind, and
the idea of any intermediate influence between the
human intelligence and the disclosure of God's will.
And when we try to interpret this in terms of our own
mental operations, and our consciousness of the way
in which truth reaches our minds, we recognise for
one thing an impression made distinctly word by word
of the message to be conveyed. There is given to
Moses not only a general idea of the truth or principle
The paradox is not inconceivable. There is a way
to this converse with God "mouth to mouth" along
which the patient, earnest soul can partly travel.
Without rhapsody, with full effort of the mind that has
gathered from every source and is ready for the Divine
synthesis of ideas, the Divine illumination, the Divine
dictation, if we may so speak, the humble intelligence
may arrive where, for the guidance of the personal life
at least, the very words of God are to be heard.
Beyond, along the same way, lies the chamber of
audience which Moses knew. We think it an amazing
thing to be sure of God and of His will to the very
words. Our state is so often that of doubt, or of self-absorption,
or of entanglement with the affairs of others,
that we are generally incapable of receiving the direct
message. Yet of whom should we be sure if not of
God? Of what words should we be more certain than
those pure, clear words that come from His mouth?
Moses heard on great themes, national and moral—he
heard for the ages, for the world: there lay his unique
With regard to the similitude of Jehovah which
Moses saw, we notice that there is no suggestion of
human form; rather would this seem to be carefully
avoided. The statement does not take us back to the
appearance of the angel Jehovah to Abraham, nor does
it point to any manifestation like that of which we read
in the history of Joshua or of Gideon. Nothing is here
said of an angel. We are led to think of an exaltation
of the spiritual perception of Moses, so that he knew
the reality of the Divine life, and was made sure of an
originative wisdom, a transcendent source of ideas and
moral energy. He with whom Moses holds communion
is One whose might and holiness and glory are seen
with the spiritual eye, whose will is made known by
a voice entering into the soul. And the distinction
intended between Moses and all other prophets corresponds
to a fact which the history of Israel's religion
brings to light. The account of the way in which
Jehovah communicated with Moses remains subject to
the condition that the expressions used, such as "mouth
to mouth," are still only symbols of the truth. They
mean that in the very highest sense possible to man
Moses entered into the purposes of God regarding His
people. Now Isaiah certainly approached this intimate
knowledge of the Divine counsel when long afterwards
he said in Jehovah's name: "Behold My Servant, whom
I uphold; Mine Elect, in whom My soul delighteth; I
have put My Spirit upon Him: He shall bring forth
judgment unto the Gentiles. He shall not cry, nor
lift up, nor cause His voice to be heard in the street."
When the oracle had spoken, there was a movement of the cloud from the door of the tent of meeting, and apparently from the tabernacle—a sign of the displeasure of God. Following the idea that the cloud was connected with the altar, this withdrawal has been interpreted by Lange as a rebuke to Aaron. "He was inwardly crushed; the fire on his altar went out; the pillar of smoke no longer mounted up as a token of grace; the cultus was for a moment at a standstill, and it was as if an interdict of Jehovah lay on the cultus of the sanctuary." But the cloud-pillar is not, as this interpretation would imply, associated with Aaron personally; it is always the symbol of the Divine will "by the hand of Moses." We must suppose therefore that the movement of the cloud conveyed in some new and unexpected way a sense of the Divine support which Moses enjoyed. He was justified in all he had done: condemnation was brought home to his accusers.
And Miriam, who had offended most, was punished
with more than a rebuke. Suddenly she was found
to be covered with leprosy. Aaron, looking upon her,
saw that morbid pallor which was regarded as the
invariable sign of the disease. It was seen as a proof
of her sin and of the anger of Jehovah. Himself
trembling as one who had barely escaped, Aaron
could not but confess his share in the transgression.
Addressing Moses with the deepest reverence, he said,
Moses needs no second appeal to his compassion. He is a truly inspired man, and can forgive. He has seen the great God merciful and gracious, longsuffering, slow to anger, and he has caught something of the Divine magnanimity. This temper was not always shown throughout Israel's history by those who had the position of prophets. And we find that men who claim to be religious, even to be interpreters of the Divine will, are not invariably above retaliation. They are seen to hate those who criticise them, who throw doubt upon their arguments. A man's claim to fellowship with God, his professed knowledge of the Divine truth and religion, may be tested by his conduct when he is under challenge. If he cannot plead with God on behalf of those who have assailed him, he has not the Spirit; he is as "sounding brass, or a clanging cymbal."
Even in response to the prayer of Moses, Miriam
could not be cured at once. She must go aside
bearing her reproach. Shame for her offence, apart
from the taint of leprosy, would make it fitting that she
should withdraw seven days from camp and sanctuary.
The offence of Miriam was only jealousy and presumption. She may scarcely seem so great a sinner that an attack of leprosy should have been her punishment, though it lasted for no more than seven days. We make so much of bodily maladies, so little of diseases of the soul, that we would think it strange if any one for his pride should be struck with paralysis, or for envy should be laid down with fever. Yet beside the spiritual disorder that of the body is of small moment. Why do we think so little of the moral taint, the falsehood, malice, impurity, and so much of the ills our flesh is heir to? The bad heart is the great disease.
Miriam's exclusion from the camp becomes a lesson to all the people. They do not journey while she is separated as unclean. There may have been other lepers in the outlying tents; but her sin has been of such a kind that the public conscience is especially directed to it. And the lesson had particular point with reference to those who had the prophetic gift.
Modern society, making much of sanitation and all kinds of improvements and precautions intended to prevent the spread of epidemics and mitigate their effects, has also some thought of moral disease. Persons guilty of certain crimes are confined in prisons or "cut off from the people." But of the greater number of moral maladies no account is taken. And there is no widespread gloom over the nation, no arrest of affairs, when some hideous case of social immorality or business depravity has come to light. It is but a few who pray for those who have the evil heart, and wait sympathetically for their cleansing. Ought not the reorganisation of society to be on a moral rather than an economic basis? We should be nearer the general well-being if it were reckoned a disaster when any employer oppressed those under him, or workmen were found indifferent to their brothers, or a grave crime disclosed a low state of morality in some class or circle. It is the defeat of armies and navies, the overthrow of measures and governments, that occupy our attention as a people, and seem often to obscure every moral and religious thought. Or if injustice is the topic, we find the point of it in this: that one class is rich while another is poor; that money, not character, is lost in shameful contention.
A further difference is this: According to one of the narratives Caleb alone encourages the people (xiii. 30; xiv. 24). But according to the other (xiii. 8, 16; xiv. 6, 7), Joshua, as well as Caleb, is among the twelve, and reports favourably as to the possibility of conquering and possessing Canaan.
Without deciding on the critical points involved, we
may find a way of harmonising the apparent differences.
It is quite possible, for instance, that while some of the
The questions occur, why and at whose instance the
survey was undertaken. From Deuteronomy we learn
that a demand for it arose among the people. Moses
says (i. 22): "Ye came near unto me every one of
you, and said, Let us send men before us, that they may
search the land for us, and bring us word again of the
way by which we must go up, and the cities unto which
we shall come." In Numbers the expedition is undertaken
at the order of Jehovah conveyed through Moses.
The opposition here is only on the surface. The people
might desire, but decision did not lie with them. It
was quite natural when the tribes had at length approached
the frontier of Canaan that they should seek
information as to the state of the country. And the
wish was one which could be sanctioned, which had
even been anticipated. The land of Canaan was already
known to the children of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,
and the praise of it as a land flowing with milk and
honey mingled with their traditions. In one sense
there was no need to send spies, either to report on the
To the band of pioneers each tribe contributes a man, and all the twelve are headmen, whose intelligence and good faith may presumably be trusted. They know the strength of Israel; they should also be able to count upon the great source of courage and power—the unseen Friend of the nation. Remembering what Egypt is, they know also the ways of the desert; and they have seen war. If they possess enthusiasm and hope, they will not be dismayed by the sight of a few walled towns or even of some Anakim. They will say, "The Lord of hosts is with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge." Yet there is danger that old doubts and new fears may colour their report. God appoints men to duty; but their personal character and tendencies remain. And the very best men Israel can choose for a task like this will need all their faithfulness and more than all their faith to do it well.
The spies were to climb the heights visible in the
north, and look forth towards the Great Sea and away
to Moriah and Carmel. They were also to make their
way cautiously into the land itself and examine it.
Moses anticipates that all he has said in praise of
Canaan will be made good by the report, and the
people will be encouraged to enter at once on the final
struggle. When the desert was around them, unfruitful,
seemingly interminable, the Israelites might have been
Now in like manner the future state of existence
may seem dim and unreal, scarcely credible, to many.
Our life is like a series of marches hither and thither
through the desert. Neither as individuals nor as
communities do we seem to approach any state of
blessedness and rest. Rather, as years go by, does
the region become more inhospitable. Hopes once
cherished are one after another disappointed. The
stern mountains that overhung the track by which our
forefathers went still frown upon us. It seems impossible
to get beyond their shadow. And in a kind of
despair some may be ready to say: There is no promised
land. This waste, with its sere grass, its
burning sand, its rugged hills, makes the whole of life.
We shall die here in the wilderness like those who
have been before us; and when our graves are dug
and our bodies laid in them, our existence will have an
end. But it is a thoughtless habit to doubt that of
which we have no full experience. Here we have but
begun to learn the possibilities of life and find a clue to
its Divine mysteries. And even as to the Israelites in
the wilderness there were not wanting signs that pointed
to the fruitful and pleasant country beyond, so for us,
Science and business and the cares of life absorb many and bewilder them. Immersed in the work of their world, men are apt to forget that deeper draughts of life may be drunk than they obtain in the laboratory or the counting-house. But he who knows what love and worship are, who finds in all things the food of religious thought and devotion, makes no such mistake. To him a future in the spiritual world is far more within the range of hopeful anticipation than Canaan was to one who remembered Egypt and had bathed in the waters of the Nile. Is the heavenly future real? It is: as thought and faith and love are real, as the fellowship of souls and the joy of communion with God are realities. Those who are in doubt as to immortality may find the cause of that doubt in their own earthliness. Let them be less occupied with the material, care more for the spiritual possessions, truth, righteousness, religion, and they will begin to feel an end of doubt. Heaven is no fable. Even now we have our foretaste of its refreshing waters and the fruits that are for the healing of the nations.
The spies were to climb the hills which commanded
a view of the promised land. And there are heights
which must be scaled if we are to have previsions of
The spies went forth from among tribes which had
so far made a good journey under the Divine guidance.
So well had the expedition sped that a few days' march
would have brought the travellers into Canaan. But
Israel was not a hopeful people nor a united people.
The thoughts of many turned back; all were not faithful
to God nor loyal to Moses. And as the people were,
so were the spies. Some may have professed to be
enthusiastic who had their doubts regarding Canaan
and the possibility of conquering it. Others may have
Those who went farther north had to tell of strong
peoples—the Jebusites and Amorites of the central
region, the Hittites of the north, the Canaanites of the
seaboard, where afterwards Sisera had his headquarters.
The cities, too, were great and walled. These spies
had nothing to say of the fruitful plains of Esdraelon
and Jezreel, nothing to tell of the flowery meadows,
The report of the majority of the spies was one of
exaggeration and a certain untruthfulness. They must
have spoken altogether without knowledge, or else
allowed themselves to magnify what they saw, when they
said of the children of Anak, "We were in our own
sight as grasshoppers, and so we were in their sight."
Possibly the Hebrews were at this time somewhat ill-developed
as a race, bearing the mark of their slavery.
But we can hardly suppose that the Amorites, much
less the Hittites, were of overpassing stature. Nor
could many cities have been so large and strongly
fortified as was represented, though Lachish, Hebron,
Shalim, and a few others were formidable. On the
other hand, the picture had none of the attractiveness
it should have borne. These exaggerations and defects,
however, are the common faults of misbelieving and
therefore ignorant representation. Are any disposed
to leave the wilderness of the world and possess the
better country? A hundred voices of the baser kind
will be heard giving warning and presage. Nothing
is said about its spiritual fruit, its joy, hope, and peace.
But its hardships are detailed, the renunciations, the
obligations, the conflicts necessary before it can be
possessed. Who would enter on the hopeless task
of trying to cast out the strong man armed, who sits
entrenched—of holding at bay the thousand forces that
Observe also that the account given by those who reconnoitred the land of promise sprang from an error which has its parallel now. The spies went supposing that the Israelites were to conquer Canaan and dwell there purely for their own sake, for their own happiness and comfort. Had not the wilderness journey been undertaken for that end? It did not enter into the consideration either of the people as a whole or of their representatives that they were bound for Canaan in order to fulfil the Divine purpose of making Israel a means of blessing to the world. Here, indeed, a spirituality of view was needful which the spies could not be expected to have. Breadth of foresight, too, would have been required which in the circumstances scarcely lay within human power. If any of them had taken account of Israel's spiritual destiny as a witness for Jehovah in the midst of the heathen, could they have told whether this land of Syria or some other would be a fit theatre for the fulfilment of that high destiny?
And in ignorance like theirs lies the source of
mistakes often made in judging the circumstances of
life, in deciding what will be wisest and best to undertake.
We, too, look at things from the point of view
of our own happiness and comfort, and, in a higher
range, of our religious enjoyment. If we see that these
Who are the Calebs and Joshuas of our time? Not those who, forecasting the movements of society, see what they think shall be for their people a region of comfort and earthly prosperity, to be maintained by shutting out as far as possible the agitation of other lands; but those who realise that a nation, especially a Christian nation, has a duty under God to the whole human race. Those are our true guides and come with inspiration who bid us not be afraid in undertaking the world-wide task of commending truth, establishing righteousness, seeking the enfranchisement and Christianisation of all lands.
Notwithstanding the efforts of Caleb and afterwards
of Joshua to controvert the disheartening reports spread
by their companions, the people were filled with
dismay; and night fell upon a weeping camp. The
Always and everywhere faithless means foolish, faithless means cowardly. By this is explained the dejection and panic into which the Israelites fell, into which men often fall. Our life and history are not confided to the Divine care; our hope is not in God. Nothing can save a man or a nation from vacillation, despondency, and defeat but the conviction that Providence opens the way and never fails those who press on. No doubt there are considerations which might have made Israel doubtful whether the conquest of Canaan lay in the way of duty. Some modern moralists would call it a great crime—would say that the tribes could look for no success in endeavouring to dispossess the inhabitants of Canaan, or even to find a place among them. But this thought did not enter into the question. Panic fell on the host, because doubt of Jehovah and His purpose overcame the partial faith which had as yet been maintained with no small difficulty.
Now it was by the mouth of Moses Israel had been
assured of the promise of God. Broadly speaking,
faith in Jehovah was faith in Moses, who was their
We must not indeed deny that this conviction was
liable to challenge and revision. It must always be so
when a man speaks for God, represents God. Doubt
of the wisdom of any command meant doubt whether
God had really given it by Moses. And when it seemed
For us, whatever may be said as to the composition of the Bible, it is supremely, and as no other sacred book can be, the Word of God. As Moses was the one man in Israel who had a right to speak in Jehovah's name, so the Bible is the one book which can claim to instruct us in faith, duty, and hope. Speaking to us in human language, it may of course be challenged. At one point and another, some even of those who believe in Divine communication to men may question whether the Bible writers have always caught aright the sound of the heavenly Word. And some go so far as to say: There is no Divine Voice; men have given as the Word of God, in good faith, what arose in their own mind, their own exalted imagination. Nevertheless, our faith, if faith we are to have at all, must rest on this Book. We cannot get away from human words. We must rely on spoken or written language if we are to know anything higher than our own thought. And what is written in the Bible has the highest marks of inspiration—wisdom, purity, truth, power to convince and convert and to build up a life in holiness and in hope.
It remains true accordingly that doubt of the Bible
means for us, must mean, not simply doubt of the men
who have been instrumental in giving us the Book,
but doubt of God Himself. If the Bible did not speak
in harmony with nature and reason and the widest
The Israelites doubting Jehovah who had spoken through Moses, that is to say, doubting the highest, most inspiring word it was possible for them to hear, turning away from the Divine reason that spoke, the heavenly purpose revealed to them, had nothing to rely upon. Confused inadequate counsels, chaotic fears, waited immediately upon their revolt. They sank at once to despondency and the most fatuous and impossible projects. The men who stood against their despair were made offenders, almost sacrificed to their fear. Joshua and Caleb, facing the tumult, called for confidence. "Fear not ye the people of the land," they said, "for they are bread for us: their defence is removed from over them, and Jehovah is with us: fear them not." But all the congregation bade stone them with stones; and it was only the bright glow of the pillar of fire shining out at the moment that prevented a dreadful catastrophe.
So the faithless generations fall back still into panic,
Modern nations, nominally Christian, are finding it
difficult to suppress disorder, and occasionally we are
almost thrown into a state of panic by the activity of
revolutionists. Does the cause not lie in this, that the
en avant of Providence and Christianity is not obeyed
either in the politics or social economy of the people?
Like Israel, a nation has been led so far through the
wilderness, but advance can only be into a new order
which faith perceives, to which the voice of God calls.
If it is becoming a general conclusion that there is
no such country, or that the conquest of it is impossible,
if many are saying, Let us settle in the
wilderness, and others, Let us return to Egypt, what
can the issue be but confusion? This is to encourage
The thought was one at which an ambitious man
would have grasped; and to entertain it might well
seem a good man's duty. In what better way could
one of earnest and courageous spirit serve the world
and the Divine purpose of grace? Moses stood as a
representative of Abraham, to whom the promise had
been first given, and of Jacob, to whom it had been
renewed. If the will of Heaven was that a fresh
beginning in the old succession should be made, the
honour was not lightly to be put aside. Moses now
saw, as Abraham saw, a great possibility. The Divine
purpose did not fail, though Israel proved unfit to
serve it; in the field of a more instructed age that
magnificent hope which made Abraham great would
blossom more generously and yield its fruit of blessing.
His choice made, Moses intercedes with God. The prayer has an air of simple anthropomorphism. He appears to plead that Jehovah should not imperil His own fame. The underlying thought is partly concealed by the form of expression; but the meaning is clear. It is the dawning power of the religion of God for which Moses is concerned. He would not have that lost to men which by the events of the exodus and the wilderness journey has been so far secured. Egypt is half persuaded; Canaan is beginning to see that Jehovah is greater than Anubis and Thoth, than Moloch and Baal. Was that impression to fade and to be succeeded by doubt, possibly contempt of Jehovah as Israel's God. He had brought His people into the wilderness, but He could not establish them in Canaan; therefore He slew them: if that were said, would not the loss to mankind be incalculable? "Thou, Jehovah, art seen face to face, and Thy cloud standeth over them, and Thou goest before them in a pillar of cloud by day, and in a pillar of fire by night." The astonished lands have seen this; let them not return with greater trust than ever to their own poor idols.
In the report of Moses' intercession words are quoted
which were part of the revelation of the Divine character
Jehovah says, "I have pardoned according to My word." The national sin is not to be visited with destruction of the nation. No pestilence shall exterminate the murmurers, nor shall they be left without the guidance of Moses and of the cloud to melt away in the plagues of the wilderness. But yet the power of Jehovah shall be shown in their punishment; the manner of it shall be such that the earth shall be filled with the glory of the Lord. The men who came out of Egypt and have tempted Jehovah ten times shall never see Canaan. Their carcases shall fall in the desert. For forty years shall the Israelites wander as shepherds till the evil generation shall have disappeared.
Divine Providence judges the pusillanimity of men.
Their fear deprives them of that which is offered and
actually put within their grasp. They prove themselves
incapable when the time of decisive endeavour
comes, and a new generation must arise before the
ripeness of circumstance again opens the way. The
Does it appear an inordinate punishment, this denial
of Canaan to the unbelieving? There is no need to
think so. For the men and women who held back in
doubt of God, the wilderness, quite as well as Canaan,
would serve the main end, to teach them trust. Life
went on still under the protection of the Almighty.
The desert was His, as well as the land flowing with
milk and honey. Yea, in the desert they had, being
such as they were, fewer temptations to question the
power of God and their own need of Him than they
would have found in the land of promise. May we not
say that men who had been so ready to receive an evil
report of the land would have been confirmed in their
And there was a limitation of the judgment. Only
those from twenty years old and upward were included.
The young men and young women, presumably because
they had not bewailed their lot and cried against Moses
and God, having too much of the hopeful spirit of youth,
were not condemned to die in the wilderness. A
difference was there, and by the terms of the deliverance
was made clear, which often comes to light in
human history. The old, who should know most of the
goodness of God and His unfailing power, draw back;
the young and inexperienced are ready to advance.
Men who are occupied with affairs tend to think that
their wise management brings success, and they place
Divine Providence secondary to their own wisdom.
Shall we be able for this? they ask. Does this approve
itself to us as men of the world, responsible men?
If not, they think it would be folly to go forward even
at the call of God. But the young are not so wise in
their own experience; they are in the mood to dare:
the young and the trustful—men like Joshua and Caleb,
who have learned that power and success are of God,
Caleb has here and elsewhere in the history peculiar
honour, all the more remarkable that he was, properly
speaking, no Israelite. The narrative at this point
associates his family with the tribe of Judah. But Caleb
was a Kenizzite (
In contrast to the special promise made to Joshua
and Caleb is the fate of the other ten whose report
brought "a slander upon the land." These "died by
the plague before Jehovah." It would seem that before
Moses appealed to God on behalf of the people, the
pestilence was spreading which might have swept the
Suddenly at ver. 40 we are brought to a new development. The people no sooner hear their doom than they resolve to take the future into their own hands. They acknowledge that they have sinned, meaning, however, only that they have fallen into a mistake the consequence of which they had not foreseen; and with this inadequate confession of fault they decide to make the advance into Canaan forthwith. They do not see that instead of recovering their hope in God by any such attempt they will really deepen the alienation between themselves and Him. Submission is indeed hard, but it is their one grace, their one duty. If they press on into Canaan, they must go without the Lord, as Moses warns them, and they shall not prosper.
It is not enough when men have discovered an evil
heart of unbelief, and turned again in repentance, that
they take up the thread of life which has become
ravelled. Perverse faithlessness cannot be cured by
a sudden decision to resume the duty which was
abandoned in fear. The refusal was no superficial
In Canaan, the Amalekites and Canaanites, Moses
said, would dispute the advance of Israel,—Amalekites
skilled in desultory war, Canaanites long trained in
military art. These would fight without any sense
of the support of the true God. But how would the
Hebrews speed, meeting them on the same footing?
The contest would be then between human skill and
Too often the conflicts in which the Church is involved are of this very kind. There is profession of high moral design and Christian principle. Ostensibly it is for the sake of true religion that something is undertaken. But in reality the affair is not one that belongs to the essence of faith. It is perhaps a question of prestige, of exclusive claim to certain rights or moneys, the very last thing a Christian church should insist upon. Then the contest is between human diplomacy and resolution, whether on the one side or the other. It is idle to call a campaign like this a holy war. The ark of the covenant does not accompany the army that calls itself Jehovah's. As Israel found that even Amalekites and Canaanites were too strong for her, so has the Church often found that men whom she termed unbelievers were superior to her in the arms she chose to use. Again and again have her forces had to retire smitten even unto Hormah. For those who are called unbelievers and atheists have their rights; and they will always be able to maintain their rights against a presumptuous church which "goes up into the mountain" without the sanction of its living Head.
It was no general advance of the tribes that on this
From the twenty-first chapter, which appears to open
with a reminiscence of the first attack on Canaan, we
gather that one of those who opposed the expedition
1. Meal and Drink Offerings.—The statute regarding offerings "to make a sweet savour unto Jehovah" is specially occupied with prescribing the proportion of flour and oil and wine to be presented along with the animal brought for a burnt offering or sacrifice. Any one separating himself in terms of a vow, or desiring to express gratitude for some Divine favour, or again on the occasion of a sacred festival when he had special cause of rejoicing before God, might bring a lamb, a ram, or an ox as his oblation; and the meal and drink offerings were to vary with the value of the animal brought for sacrifice. The law does not demand the same offering of every person under similar circumstances. According to his means or his gratitude he may give. But deciding first as to his burnt or slain offering, he must add to it, for a lamb, the tenth of an ephah of fine flour mixed with a quarter of a hin of oil, and also a quarter of a hin of wine. For a bullock, the quantities were to be three-tenths of an ephah of fine flour, with half a hin of oil, and, as a drink offering, half a hin of wine.
The provision is a singular one, based on some sense
of what was becoming which we cannot pretend to
revive. But it points to a rule which the Apostle Paul
may have recognised in this and other Jewish statutes
as belonging to universal morality: "Take thought
for things honourable in the sight of all men." To
The presence or absence of oil in an oblation marked
its character. The sin offering and the jealousy offering
were without oil. The "oil of joy" (
In connection with this ordinance of meal and drink
offerings, and that of atonement for unintentional failures
in duty (ver. 22 ff.), it is very carefully enacted that
the law shall be the same for the "homeborn" and
the "stranger." "For the assembly there shall be
We know that for a long period of Israel's history
strangers were, according to the statute presently
under consideration, admitted to the fellowship of Sayce, "The Higher Criticism and the Verdict of the Monuments," p. 359.
The heave offering of the first dough is placed (ver. 20) side by side with the heave offering of the threshing-floor of the first sheaves. In Leviticus (xxiii. 17) a harvest oblation is ordered—two wave-loaves of fine flour baken with leaven. Here the heave offering of a cake made from the first dough is not accompanied with sacrifices of animals, but is of a simple kind, mainly a tribute to the priests. The Deuteronomic statute regarding firstfruits, which were to be put in a basket and set down before the altar, prescribed a formula of dedication beginning, "An Aramean ready to perish was my father, and he went down into Egypt": and the offering of these firstfruits was to be an occasion of joy—"Thou shalt rejoice in all the good which the Lord thy God hath given unto thee and unto thine house, thou and the Levite, and the stranger that is in the midst of thee." There can be no question that the most developed statute regarding these harvest offerings is that given in Leviticus, where the exact time for the presentation of the loaves is fixed, the fiftieth day after the Sabbath, from the day when the sheaf was brought. The feast accompanying the offering of the loaves came to be known as that of Pentecost.
Passing now to the law of atonement for unintentional
omissions of duty, we notice that the introductory
sentences (vv. 22, 23) have a peculiar retrospective
cast. They seem to point back to the time when the
Lord gave commandment by the hand of Moses. It
would appear that in course of years discovery was
made that portions of the law were neglected, and the
provisions of this statute were to relieve the nation See Keil and Delitzsch in loco.
For the nation as a whole, under these circumstances,
atonement was to be made by the burnt offering of a
young bullock with its meal offering and drink offering,
and the sin offering of a he-goat. In this purgation
all strangers resident with Israel are specially included.
When any person discovered that he had neglected a
precept, he was to offer a she-goat of the first year
for a sin offering. The Israelite and the stranger
alike had in this way access to the sanctuary. But in
contrast to unintentional omission of duty was set
deliberate neglect of it. For this there was no atonement.
Whether the high-handed transgressor was
homeborn or a stranger, he was to be utterly cut off
as a blasphemer; his iniquity rested upon him. The
The distinction between unwitting neglect and open
rejection runs through the whole range of duty, natural,
Hebrew, Christian. What a man knows to be right
he has before him as a Divine law of moral conduct.
By the highest obligations, under which he lies to the
Lord of conscience, to his fellow-men, and to himself,
he is bound to obey. Judaism added the authority of
revelation—the Mosaic law, the prophetic word. Christianity
still further adds the authority of the word
spoken by the Son of God, and the obligation imposed
by His death as the manifestation of eternal love. In
proportion as the Divine will is made clear, and the law
enforced by revelation and grace, the sin of rejection
becomes greater and more blasphemous. But, on the
other hand, the unwitting transgressor, be he heathen
or imperfectly instructed Christian, has under the new
covenant, in which mercy and justice go hand in hand,
no less consideration than the Hebrew who unintentionally
erred. There is no law that cuts him off from
his people. Wide as this principle may reach, it must
be that according to which men are judged. Many,
knowing the invisible things of God "through the
things that are made," are without excuse. They
"hold down the truth in unrighteousness"; they are
high-handed transgressors. But others who have no
knowledge of the Divine law, and break it unwittingly,
It may be asked, Why, since defiant rejection of
Christian law is more blasphemous than high-handed
breach of the old Hebrew law, the providence of God
does not punish it? If any one with Christ and His
cross in view is guilty of injustice, or of hatred which
is murder, does he not prove himself unworthy to live
in God's world? And why, then, does he not suffer
at once the doom of his rebellion? The theory of
some stern moralists has been that human government
should administer the justice of Heaven and cut off the
unbeliever. In many a notable case this has been
done, and has caused a righteous horror which continues
to be felt. But although men cannot safely undertake
the punishment of such offenders, why does not God?
Christ boldly stated that here and now this is not the
method of the Divine government, but that men enjoy
the Father's mercy even when they are unjust, unthankful,
and evil. Yet He spoke of judgment universal—judgment
and retribution that shall not miss a single
sinner, a single secret sin. And His view of the
theocracy clearly is that meanwhile God by mercy to
the defiant desires to train men in mercy, by forbearance
towards the unthankful and evil commends to us
like patience and endurance. Transgressors are to have
their full opportunity of repentance, to which the very
goodness of God calls them. But justice which delays is
not unobservant. Though He who reigns moves slowly
to His end, He will not fail to reach it. "He hath
appointed a day in the which He will judge the world
in righteousness." As for human law, its sphere is
fixed. Society must protect itself against crime, and
The various subjects of thought suggested here should be followed out. For us, they are complicated on the social as well as the religious side by certain theories that are in vogue. The duty of civil government, for example, is on one side extended beyond its proper range by the attempt to give it authority in the domain of religious truth; on the other hand it is unduly restricted by toleration of what is against the well-being of society. The Christian moralist has much to ponder in relation to popular opinions and the trend of modern legislation.
2. The Sabbath-Breaker.—If the actual sequence
of events is followed in the narrative of Numbers, it
must have been after the condemnation of the adult
Israelites that judgment of the man who was found
infringing the Sabbath law had to be executed; and
some who were themselves under reprobation took
part in convicting and punishing this offender. There
is a difficulty here which on high moral grounds it
is impossible to explain away. Disaffection and revolt
had brought on the mass of the people the sentence of
destruction; and this had only been exchanged on
Moses' intercession for the forty years of wandering.
Should not sins that were visited with this penalty have
The law which had been broken was one specially connected with duty to God. Sabbath-keeping might indeed seem to belong to worship rather than to social morality. The seventh day was the Sabbath of Jehovah. It was to be kept holy to Him, made a delight for His sake. The statute regarding it belonged to the first table of the Decalogue. Still, the commandment had a social as well as a religious side. In goodwill to men Jehovah required the day to be kept holy to Him. Had one and another like this offender been allowed to set aside the fourth commandment, the interests of the whole congregation would soon have suffered. It was for the good of the race, physically as well as intellectually and spiritually, the Sabbath was to be kept. Those who guarded the sanctity of the Sabbath were guarding not the honour of God alone, though they may have thought that the chief merit of their watchfulness, but the interests of the people, a precious heritage of the nation.
It is not necessary to maintain that judgment was
given by Moses solely on the ground that the man who
gathered sticks on the Sabbath was an offender against
the public well-being. The thought of Jehovah's
"jealousy" was constantly kept before the mind of
And there is a sense in which without Pharisaism
those who are concerned for the public well-being may
still insist on the strict enforcement of the laws that
guard the day of rest. Though all days are alike
sacred to spiritually minded persons, yet bodily health
and mental soundness are bound up more than men in
general know with the Sabbatic interval between labour
and labour. The Puritanism often scoffed at is far
more philanthropic than the humanitarianism, so-called,
which derides it. And when any one enforces the duty
of Sabbath-keeping by insisting on God's claim to the
seventh day, his belief is no superstition. Convict him
first of advocating what is against the good of men,
irrational, absurd, before venturing to call him superstitious.
If what is advanced as a claim of God can
be proved to be really for the good of men, it is a virtue
to insist that for God's sake as well as the sake of men
it should be rendered. There were persons in our
The institution of the Sabbath and the scrupulous
observance of it were, for Israel, and are still for all
believers in Divine religion, most important means of
maintaining unity in the faith. Now that many causes
interfere with the simultaneous exhibition of regard for
other symbols of Christian belief, the day of rest and
worship gives a universal opportunity which it would
be fatal to neglect. It has the advantage of beginning
to claim men on the ground where religion first appeals
to them, that of God's care for their temporal well-being.
Those with whom religious feeling is quite elementary
must see that a boon of incalculable value is offered in
this recurring refreshment to the wearied body and
strained mind. And with progress in religious culture
the benefit of the day of rest is found to advance. The
opportunities of worship, of religious meditation and
service, which it brings will be esteemed as the value
of Christian fellowship, the importance of Christian
knowledge, and the duty of Christian endeavour are
successively understood. On all these grounds the
Sabbath, or Lord's Day, is for modern religion, as for
that of the old covenant, a great declaration, a means
of unity and development which the spiritual will
earnestly uphold. Let it fail, and distinction between
religious and non-religious will be without a sign.
No doubt the reality is more by far than the symbol.
Yet fellowship, for which in many cases the Sabbath
3. The Memorial Tassels.—The unique sumptuary law with which the chapter closes may be regarded as a sequence of the Sabbath-breaker's conviction. That Israelites might never be without a reminder of their duty, and of the Divine laws they were scrupulously to observe, these tassels with a band of blue were to be constantly worn. It appears to us singular that men should be expected to pay heed to such mementoes as these. We are apt to say, If the laws of God were not in their hearts, the zizith would scarcely make them more attentive; and if they had the laws in their hearts, they would need no memorials of obligation. But the ornament was something more than a reminder of duty. It was a badge of honour, and became more so as the Israelites understood their high position among the peoples. The zizith would be like an order, a mark of rank; or like the uniform of his regiment which to the good soldier recalls its history. The Hebrew would have to live up to his duty as signified by these attachments of his dress.
And Israelites were to be distinguished by the zizith
from those who were of other races, not under law to
Jehovah. Every man who wore this badge would be
able to count on the sympathy of every other Israelite.
The symbol became a means of rousing the esprit of the
nation, and binding it together in a zealous fraternity.
The name zizith is derived from a word meaning
blossom. The tassel was formed of twisted threads
bound by a cord or ribbon of blue to the garment.
It was the blossom of the robe, so to speak, hanging
by a blue stem. The ornament is again mentioned in
And Christian symbols, the few sanctioned by
The principal leader of revolt was Korah, son of
On the morrow the whole congregation, even more
disaffected than before, is in a state of tumult. The cry
is raised that Moses and Aaron "have killed the people
Now throughout the narrative, although other issues
are involved, there can be no question that the main
design is the confirmation of the Aaronic priesthood.
What happened conveyed a warning of most extraordinary
severity against any attempt to interfere with
the sacerdotal order as established. And this we can
understand. But it becomes a question why a revolt
of Reubenites against Moses was connected with that
of Korah against the sole priesthood of the Aaronic
house. We have also to consider how it came about
that princes out of all the tribes were to be found provided
with censers, which they were apparently in the
habit of using to burn incense to Jehovah. There is
a Levitical revolt; there is an assumption by men in
each tribe of priestly dignity; and there is a protest by
men representing the tribe of Reuben against the
dictatorship of Moses. In what way might these
The explanation supplied by Wellhausen on the
basis of his main theory is exceedingly laboured, at
some points improbable, at others defective. According
to the Jehovistic tradition, he says, Prolegomena to the "History of Israel," p. 354.
We have seen that according to the narrative of Numbers seventy elders of the tribes were appointed to aid Moses in bearing the heavy burden of administration, and were endowed with the gift of prophecy that they might the more impressively wield authority in the host. In the first instance, these men might be zealous helpers of Moses, but they proved, like the rest, angry critics of his leadership when the spies returned with their evil report. They were included with the other men of the tribes in the doom of the forty years' wandering, and might easily become movers of sedition. When the ark was stationed permanently at Kadesh, and the tribes spread themselves after the manner of shepherds over a wide range of the surrounding district, we can easily see that the authority of the seventy would increase in proportion to the need for direction felt in the different groups to which they belonged. Many of the scattered companies too were so far from the tabernacle that they might desire a worship of their own, and the original priestly function of the heads of tribes, if it had lapsed, might in this way be revived. Although there were no altars, yet with censers and incense one of the highest rites of worship might be observed.
Again, the period of inaction must have been galling
to many who conceived themselves quite capable of
making a successful assault on the inhabitants of
Canaan, or otherwise securing a settled place of abode
for Israel. And the tribe of Reuben, first by birthright,
Once more, as to the Levites, it might seem unfair
to them that Aaron and his two sons should have a
position so much higher than theirs. They had to
do many offices in connection with sacrifice, and other
parts of the holy service. On them, indeed, fell the
burden of the duties, and the ambitious might expect
to force their way into the higher office of the priesthood,
at a time when rebellion against authority was
coming to a head. We may suppose that Korah and
his company of Levites, acting partly for themselves,
partly in concert with the two hundred and fifty who
had already assumed the right to burn incense, agreed
to make their demand in the first instance, that as
Levites they should be admitted priests. This would
prepare the way for the princes of the tribes to claim
sacerdotal rights according to the old clan idea. And
at the same time, the priority of Reuben would be
another point, insistence upon which would strike at
the power of Moses. If the princes of Reuben had
gone so far as to erect a "tabernacle" or mishcan for
their worship, that may have been, for the occasion,
A widespread rebellion, an organised rebellion, not homogeneous, but with many elements in it tending to utter confusion, is what we see. Suppose it to have succeeded, the unity of worship would have been destroyed completely. Each tribe with its own cultus would have gone its own way so far as religion was concerned. In a very short time there would have been as many debased cults as there were wandering companies. Then the claim of autonomy, if not of right to lead the tribes, made on behalf of Reuben, involved a further danger. Moses had not only the sagacity but the inspiration which ought to have commanded obedience. The princes of Reuben had neither. Whether all under the lead of Reuben or each tribe led by its own princes, the Israelites would have travelled to disaster. Futile attempts at conquest, strife or alliance with neighbouring peoples, internal dissension, would have worn the tribes piecemeal away. The dictatorship of Moses, the Aaronic priesthood, and the unity of worship stood or fell together. One of the three removed, the others would have given way. But the revolutionary spirit, springing out of ambition and a disaffection for which there was no excuse, was blind to consequences. And the stern suppression of this revolt, at whatever cost, was absolutely needful if there was to be any future for Israel.
It has been supposed that we have in this rebellion
of Korah the first example of ecclesiastical dissension,
and that the punishment is a warning to all who presumptuously
intrude into the priestly office. Laymen
take the censer; and the fire of the Lord burns them
A leader of men standing above them for their
temporal interests can rarely take upon him to be the
instrument of administering the penalty of their sins.
What king, for instance, ever invoked an interdict on
his own people, or in his own right of judging for God
condemned them to pay a tax to the Church, because
they had done what was morally wrong? Rulers
generally have regarded disobedience to themselves
as the only crime it was worth their while to punish.
When Moses stood against the faithless spirit of the
Israelites and issued orders by way of punishing that
bad spirit, he certainly put his authority to a tremendous
test. Without a sure ground of confidence in Divine
support, he would have been foolhardy in the extreme.
First he met the Levites, with Korah at their head,
professing great zeal for the principle that all the
congregation were holy, every one of them. A claim
made on that ground could not be disproved by
argument, perhaps, although the holiness of the congregation
was evidently an ideal, not a fact. Jehovah
Himself would have to decide. Yet Moses remonstrated
in a way that was fitted to move the Levites, and
perhaps did touch some of them. They had been
honoured by God in having a certain holy office
assigned to them. Were they to renounce it in joining
a revolt which would make the very priesthood
they desired common to all the tribes? From Jehovah
Himself the Levites had their commission. It was
against Jehovah they were fighting; and how could
they speed? They spoke of Aaron and his dignity.
But what was Aaron? Only a servant of God and of
With the Reubenites Moses deals in the next place, taking their cause of discontent by itself. Already one of the three Reubenite chiefs had withdrawn, and Dathan and Abiram stood by themselves. Refusing to obey the call of Moses to a conference, they stated their grievance roughly by the mouth of a messenger; and Moses could only with indignation express before God his blamelessness in regard to them: "I have not taken one ass from them, neither have I hurt one of them." Neither for his own enrichment, nor in personal ambition had he acted. Could they maintain, did the people think, that the present revolt was equally disinterested? Under cover of opposition to tyranny, are they not desiring to play the part of tyrants and aggrandise themselves at the expense of the people?
It is singular that not a word is said in special
condemnation of the two hundred and fifty because
they were in possession of censers and incense. May
it be the case that the complete reservation of the
high-priestly duties to the house of Aaron had not as
yet taken effect, that it was a purpose rather than a
fact? May it not further be the case that the rebellion
partly took form and ripened because an order had
The prayer of Moses in which he interceded for the people, ver. 22, is marked by an expression of singular breadth, "O God, the God of the spirits of all flesh." The men, misled on the fleshly side by appetite (ver. 13), and shrinking from pain, were against God. But their spirits were in His hand. Would He not move their spirits, redeem and save them? Would He not look on the hearts of all and distinguish the guilty from the innocent, the more rebellious from the less? One man had sinned, but would God burst out on the whole congregation? The form of the intercession is abrupt, crude. Even Moses with all his justice and all his pity could not be more just, more compassionate, than Jehovah. The purpose of destruction was not as the leader thought it to be.
Regarding the judgments, that of the earthquake and
that of the fire, we are too remote in time to form any
proper conception of what they were, how they were
inflicted. "Moses," says Lange, "appears as a man
whose wonderful presentiment becomes a miraculous
prophecy by the Spirit of revelation." But this is not
sufficient. There was more than a presentiment.
Moses knew what was coming, knew that where the
rebels stood the earth would open, the consuming fire
burn. The plague, on the other hand, which next day
spread rapidly among the excited people and threatened
to destroy them, was not foreseen. It came as if
It has been maintained by some that the closing sentences of chap. xvii. should follow chap. xvi. with which they appear to be closely connected, the incident of the budding of Aaron's rod seeming to call rather for a festal celebration than a lament. The theory of the Book of Numbers we have seen reason to adopt would account for the introduction of the fresh episode, simply because it relates to the priesthood and tends to confirm the Aaronites in exclusive dignity. The symbolic test of the claim raised by the tribes corresponds closely to the signs that were used by some of the prophets, such as the girdle laid up by the river Euphrates, and the basket of summer fruits. The rod on which Aaron's name was written was of almond, a tree for which Syria was famous. Like the sloe it sends forth blossoms before the leaves; and the unique way in which this twig showed its living vigour as compared with the others was a token of the choice of Levi to serve and Aaron to minister in the holiest office before Jehovah.
The whole circumstances, and the closing cry of the
people, leave the impression of a grave difficulty found
Of all priesthoods as corporate bodies, however
Can any Aaron now make an atonement for a mass
of people, or even in virtue of his office apply to
them the atonement made by Christ? How does his
absolution help a soul that knows Christ the Redeemer
as every Christian soul ought to know Him? The
great fault of priesthoods always is, that having once
gained power, they endeavour to retain it and extend
it, making greater claims the longer they exist.
Affirming that they speak for the Church, they
endeavour to control the voice of the Church. Affirming
that they speak for Christ, they deny or minimise
His great gift of liberty. Freedom of thought and
reason was to Cardinal Newman, for example, the
The Divine choice of Aaron, his confirmation in high religious office by the budding of the almond twig as well as by the acceptance of his intercession, have their parallels now. The realities of one age become symbols for another. Like the whole ritual of Israel, these particular incidents may be turned to Christian use by way of illustration. But not with regard to the prerogative of any arch-hierarch. The availing intercession is that of Christ, the sole headship over the tribes of men is that which He has gained by Divine courage, love, and sacrifice. Among those who believe there is equal dependence on the work of Christ. When we come to intercession which they make for each other, it is of value in consideration not of office but of faith. "The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." It is as "righteous" men, humble men, not as priests they prevail. The sacraments are efficacious, "not from any virtue in them or in him that administers them," but through faith, by the energy of the omnipresent Spirit.
Yet there are men chosen to special duty, whose
almond twigs bud and blossom and become their
sceptres. Appointment and ordination are our expedients;
grace is given by God in a higher line of calling
A certain "iniquity," corresponding to the holiness
of the tabernacle and its vessels, attends the service
which is to be done by the priests. Their entrance
into the sacred tent is an approach to Jehovah, and
from His purity there is thrown a defilement on human
life. The idea thus represented is capable of fine
The idea of the identification with the Holy God of
the sanctuary dedicated to Him, so that from the porch
of it falls the shadow of iniquity, is still further carried
out in
To the heavenly muse the poet can but reply:—
With regard to the Levites whom Aaron is to bring
near "that they may be joined unto him," it is singular
For the support of the Aaronites the heave offerings, "even all the hallowed things of the children of Israel" were to be given "by reason of the anointing." The meal offerings, sin offerings, and guilt offerings, as most holy, were to be for the male Aaronites alone: heave offerings of sacrifice, again, "all the wave offerings," were to be used by the Aaronites and their families, the reservation being made that only those without ceremonial defilement should eat of them. The first-fruits of the oil and vintage and the first ripe of all fruits in the land were other perquisites. Further, the first-born of man and of beast were to be nominally devoted; but first-born children were to be redeemed for five shekels, and the firstlings of unclean beasts were also to be redeemed. The children of Aaron were to have no inheritance in the land. In these ways however, and by the payment to the priests of the tenth part of the tithes collected by the Levites, ample provision was made for them.
For the Levites, nine-tenths of all tithes of produce
would appear to have been not only sufficient, but far
more than their proportion. According to the numbers
reported in this book, twenty-two thousand Levites—about
twelve thousand of them adult men—were to
2. Water of Purification.—The statute of xix.
A red heifer was to be chosen, the colour of the animal pointing to the hue of blood. The heifer was to be free from blemish, a type of vigorous and prolific life. The charge of the sacrifice was to be given to Eleazar the priest, for the high-priest himself might not undertake a duty the performance of which caused uncleanness. The ceremonies must take place not only outside the tabernacle court, but outside the camp, that the intensity of the uncleanness to be transferred to the animal and purged by the sacrifice may be clearly understood. The heifer being slain, the priest takes of its blood and sprinkles it towards the tent of meeting seven times, in lieu of the ordinary sprinkling on the altar. The whole animal is then burnt, and while the flame ascends the virtue of the residuent ashes is symbolically increased by certain other elements. These are cedar wood, which was believed to have special medicinal qualities, and also may have been chosen on account of the long life of the tree; some threads of scarlet wool which would represent the arterial blood, instinct with vital power; and hyssop which was employed in purification.
The priest, having presided at the sacrifice, was to
wash his clothes in water and bathe his flesh and hold
himself unclean till the even. The assistant who fed
Here we have an extra-sacerdotal rite, not of worship—for
as ordinarily used there was no prayer to God,
nor perhaps even the thought of appeal to God. It
was religious, for the sense of defilement belonged to
religion; but when under the necessity of the occasion
any one applied the water of purification, his sense of
acting the priestly part was reduced to the lowest
point. The efficacy came through the action of the
accredited priest when the heifer was sacrificed, it might
be a year previously. So, although provision was
made for needs occurring far from the sanctuary, no
opening was left for any one to claim the power belonging
to the sacerdotal office. And in order to make this
still more sure it was enacted (ver. 21), that though
the sprinkled water of purification cleansed the unclean,
any one who touched it being himself clean should
de facto be defiled. The water was declared so sacred
that unless in cases where it was really required no
The idea here is in a sense directly opposite to that which we associate with the sacred word, by which Divine will is communicated and souls are begotten anew. To use that word, to make it known abroad is the duty of every one who has heard and believed. He diffuses blessing and is himself blessed. There is no strict law hedging about with precautions the happy privilege of conveying to the sin-defiled the message of forgiveness and life. And yet may we not call to recollection here the words of Paul, "I buffet my body, and bring it into bondage; lest by any means, after that I have preached to others, I myself should be rejected." In a spiritual sense they should be clean who bear the vessels of the Lord; and every deed done, every word spoken in the sacred Name, if not with purity of purpose and singleness of heart, involves in guilt him who acts and speaks. The privilege has its accompanying danger; and the more widely it is used in the thousand organisations within and without the Church, the more carefully do all who use it need to guard the sanctity of the message and the Name. "In a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver, but also of wood and of earth; and some unto honour, and some unto dishonour. If a man therefore purge himself from these"—the profane babblings of those who do not handle the word of God aright—"he shall be a vessel unto honour, sanctified, meet for the Master's use, prepared unto every good work."
3. Defilement by the Dead.—The statute of the water of purification stands closely related to one form of uncleanness, that occasioned by death. When death took place in a tent, every one who came into the tent and every one who was in the tent, every open vessel that had no covering bound upon it, and the tent itself (ver. 18) were defiled; and the taint could not be removed in less than seven days. Whoever in the open field touched one who had been slain with a sword, or had otherwise died, or touched the bone of a man, or a grave—contracted like defilement. For purification the sacred water had to be sprinkled on the defiled person, on the third day and again on the seventh day. Not only the aspersion with sacred water, but, in addition, cleansing of clothes and of the body was necessary, in order to complete the removal of the taint. And further, while any one was unclean from this cause, if he touched another, his touch carried defilement that continued to the close of the day. To neglect the statute of purification was to defile the tabernacle of Jehovah: he who did so was to be cut off from his people.
The law was made stringent, as we have already
seen, partly no doubt for the purpose of preventing
the spread of disease. And to that extent the preservation
of health was presented as a religious duty; for
only in that sense can we understand the statement
that he who did not purify himself defiled the tabernacle
of Jehovah. Yet the stringency cannot be altogether
due to this, for a bone or a grave would not often
communicate infection. The general principle must
be received by way of explanation, that death is peculiarly
repugnant to the life of God, and therefore
contact with it, in any form, takes away the right of
First among them is the death of Miriam. She has
How is a life like this of Miriam's to be reckoned?
Take into account her faith and her faithfulness; but
remember that both were maintained with some intermixture
of poor egotism; that while she helped Moses
she also claimed to rival and rebuke him; that while
she served Jehovah it was with some of the pride of a
prophetess. Her devotion, her endurance, the long
interest in her brother's work, which indeed led to the
great error of her life—these were her virtues, the old
great virtues of a woman. So far as opportunity went
she doubtless did her utmost, with some independence
of thought and decision of character. Even though
she gave way to jealousy and passed beyond her
right, we must believe that, on the whole, she served
her generation in loyalty to the best she knew, and
in the fear of the Most High. But into what a
strange disturbed current of life was her effort thrown!
Downcast, sorely burdened women, counting for very
little when they were cheerful or when they complained,
heard Miriam's words and took them into their narrow
thoughts, to resent her enthusiasm, perhaps, when she
was enthusiastic, to grudge her the power she enjoyed,
Spread through a diversified and not altogether
barren region, over many square miles, the tribes have
been able during the thirty-seven years to provide
themselves with water. Gathered more closely now,
when the dry season begins they are in want. And
at once complaints are renewed. Nor can we wonder
much. In flaming sunshine, in the parched air of the
heights and the stifling heat of the narrow valleys, the
cattle gasping and many of them dying, the children
crying in vain for water, the little that is to be had, hot
and almost putrid, carefully divided, yet insufficient to
give each family a little,—the people might well lament
their apparently inevitable fate. It may be said, "They
should have confided in God." But while that might
It is indeed a tragedy we are to witness when we come to the rock; and one element of it is the old age and the weary spirit of the leader. Who can tell what vexed his soul that day? how many cares and anxieties burdened the mind that was clear yet, but not so tolerant, perhaps, as once it had been? The years of Moses, his long and arduous service of the people, are not remembered as they ought to be. Even in their extremity the men of the tribes ought to have appealed to their great chief with all respect, instead of breaking in upon him with reproaches. Was no experience sufficient for these people? After the discipline of the wilderness, was the new generation, like that which had died, still a mere horde, ungrateful, rebellious? From the leader's point of view this thought could not fail to arise, and the old magnanimity did not drive it away.
Another point is the forbearance of Jehovah, who
has no anger with the people. The Divine Voice commands
For the moment, forgetting Jehovah the merciful,
Moses will himself act God; and he misrepresents God,
dishonours God, as every one who forgets Him is sure
to do. Is he confident in the power of his wonder-working
rod? Does he wish to show that its old
In this mood of assumed majesty, of moral indignation
which has a personal source, with an air of superiority
not the simplicity of inspiration, a man may do what
he will for ever regret, may betray a habit of self-esteem
which has been growing upon him and will be
his ruin if it is not checked. In the strong mind of
Moses there had lain the germs of hauteur. The early
upbringing in an Egyptian court could not fail to leave
its mark, and the dignity of a dictator could not
be sustained, after the anxieties of the first two
years in the desert, without some slight growth of a
tendency or disposition to look down on people so spiritless,
and play among them the part of Providence, the
decrees of which Moses had so often interpreted. But
pride, even beginning to show itself towards men, is
an aping of God. Unconsciously the mind that looks
Think of the realisation of this which comes when the flush of hasty resentment dies, and the true self which had been suppressed revives in humble thought. "What have I done?" is the reflection—"What have I said? My rod, my hand, my will, what are they? My indignation! Who gave me the right to be indignant? A king against whom they have revolted! A guardian of the Divine honour! Alas! I have denied Jehovah. I, who stood for Him in my pride, have defamed Him in my vanity. The people who murmured, whom I rebuked, have sinned less than I. They distrusted God, I have declared Him unmerciful, and thereby sown the seeds of distrust. Now I, too, am barred from Israel's inheritance. Unworthy of the promise, I shall never cross the border of God's land. Aaron my brother, we are the transgressors. Because we have not honoured God to sanctify Him in the eyes of the children of Israel, therefore we shall not bring this assembly unto the land He gives them." By the lips of Moses himself the oracle was given. It was tragical indeed.
But how could the brothers who had yielded to this
The error of Moses was great, yet only showed him
to be a man of like passions with ourselves. Who
can realise the mercy and lovingkindness that are
in the heart of God, the danger of limiting the Holy
One of Israel? The murmuring of the Israelites
against Jehovah had often been rebuked, had often
brought them into condemnation. Moses had once
and again intervened as their mediator and saved
them from death. Remembering the times when
he had to speak of Jehovah's anger, he feels himself
justified in his own resentment. He thought the
murmuring was over; it is resumed unexpectedly,
the same old complaints are made and he is carried
away by what appears zeal for Jehovah. Yet there
is in him even, the man, much more in God, a better
There is preserved in the Book of Exodus (xxxvi.)
a list of the Kings of Edom reaching down apparently
to about the establishment of the monarchy of Israel.
Recent archæology sees no reason to question the
genuineness of this historical notice or the names of
the Dukes of Edom given in the same passage. With
varying boundaries the region over which they ruled
extended southward from Moab and the Dead Sea as
far as the Elanitic Gulf. Kadesh, considerably west
of the Arabah, is described as being on its uttermost
border. But the district inhabited by the Edomites
proper was a narrow strip of rugged country eastward
of the range of Mount Seir. One pass giving entrance
to the heart of Edom led by the base of Mount Hor
towards Selah, afterwards called Petra, which occupied
a fine but narrow valley in the heart of broken
mountains. To reach the south of Moab the Israelites
desired probably to take a road a good deal farther
north. But this would have led them by Bozrah the
capital, and the king who reigned at the time refused
We can easily understand the objection of the King
of Edom. Many of the defiles through which the main
road wound were not adapted for the march of a great
multitude. The Israelites could scarcely have gone
through Edom without injuring the fields and vineyards;
and though the undertaking was given in good
faith by Moses, how could he answer for the whole
of that undisciplined host he was leading towards
Canaan? The safety of Edom lay in denying to other
peoples access to its strongholds. The difficulty of
approaching them was their main security. Israel
might go quietly through the land now; but its armies
might soon return with hostile intent. Water, too, was
very precious in some parts of Edom. Enough was
stored in the rainy season to supply the wants of the
inhabitants; beyond that there was none to spare,
and for this necessary of life money was no equivalent.
A multitude travelling with cattle would
have made scarcity, or famine,—might have left the
region almost desolate. With the information they
There is no need to go back on the history of Jacob
and Esau in order to account for the apparent incivility
of the King of Edom to the Israelites and Moses. That
quarrel had surely been long forgotten! But we need
not wonder if the kinship of the two peoples was no
availing argument in the case. Those were not times
when covenants like that proposed could be easily
trusted, nor was Israel on an expedition the nature
of which could reassure the Idumæans. And we have
parallels enough in modern life to show that from the
only point of view the king could take he was amply
justified. There are demands men make on others
without perceiving how difficult it will be to grant
them, demands on time, on means, on goodwill,
demands that would involve moral as well as material
sacrifice. The foolish intrusions of well-meaning
people may be borne for a time, but there is a limit
beyond which they cannot be suffered. Our whole
life cannot be exposed to the derangements of every
scheme-maker, every claimant. If we are to do our
own work well, it is absolutely necessary that a certain
space shall be jealously guarded, where the gains of
thought may be kept safely and the ideas revealed to us
may be developed. That any one's life should be open
so that travellers, even with some right of close
fraternity, may pass through the midst of it, drink of
the wells, and trample down the fields of growing
purpose or ripening thought, this is not required.
Good-will makes an open gate; Christian feeling makes
On the other hand, some whose highways are broad, whose wells and streams are overflowing, whose lives are not fully engaged, show themselves exclusive and inhospitable—like those proprietors of vast moors who refuse a path to the waterfall or the mountain-top. Without Edom's excuse, some modern Idumæans warn every enterprise off their bounds. Neither brotherhood nor any other claim is acknowledged. They would find advantage, not injury, in the visit of those who bring new enthusiasms and ideas to bear on existence. They would learn of other aims than occupy them, a better hope than they possess. Their sympathy would be enlisted in heavenly or humane endeavours, and new alliances would quicken as well as broaden their life. But they will not listen; they continue selfish to the end. Against all such Christianity has to urge the law of brotherhood and of sacrifice.
We have assumed that Kadesh was on the western
side of the Arabah, and it is necessary to take ver. 20
as referring to an incident that occurred after the
Israelites had crossed the valley. Not otherwise can
we explain how they came to encamp among the
mountains on the eastern side. The repulse must have
Scarcely any locality in the whole track of the
wandering is better identified than this. From the
plain of the Arabah the mountains rise in a range
parallel to the valley, in ridges of sandstone, limestone,
and chalk, with cliffs and peaks of granite. The defile
that leads by Mount Hor to Petra is peculiarly grand,
for here the range attains its greatest height. "Through
a narrow ravine," says one traveller, "we ascended a
steep mountain side, amid a splendour of colour from
bare rock or clothing verdure, and a solemnity of light
on the broad summits, of shade in the profound depths—a
memory for ever.... It was the same narrow
path through which in old times had passed other
trains of camels laden with the merchandise of India,
Arabia, and Egypt. And thus having ascended, we
had next a long descent to the foot of Mount Hor,
which stands isolated." The mountain rises about four
thousand feet above the Arabah and has a peculiar
double crest. On its green pastures there graze flocks
of sheep and goats; and inhabited caves—used perhaps
since the days of the old Horites—are to be seen here
and there. The ascent of the mountain is aided by
steps cut in the rock, "indeed a tolerably complete
Such is the mountain at the foot of which Israel lay encamped when the Lord said unto Moses, "Take Aaron and Eleazar his son, and bring them up unto Mount Hor; and strip Aaron of his garments, and put them upon Eleazar his son: and Aaron shall be gathered unto his people and shall die there." We imagine the sorrowful gaze of the multitude following the three climbers, the aged brothers who had borne so long the burden and heat of the day, and Eleazar, already well advanced in life, who was to be invested with his father's office. Coming soon after the death of Miriam, this departure of Aaron broke sharply one other link that still bound Israel with its past. The old times were receding, the new had not yet come into sight.
The life of a good man may close mournfully. While
some in leaving the world cross cheerfully the river
beyond which the smiling fields of the heavenly land
are full in view, others there are who, even with the
faith of the Conqueror of death to sustain them, have
no gladdening prospect at the last. Only from a
distance Aaron saw the Land of Promise; from so great
a distance that its beauty and fruitfulness could not
be realised. The sullen gleam of the Lake of Sodom,
lying in its grim hollow, was visible away to the north.
The mind of Aaron as he went to his death was
darkened by the consciousness of a great failure.
Kadesh lay westward across the valley, and the thought
of what took place there was with the brothers as they
climbed Mount Hor and stood upon its summit. They
had repented, but they had not yet forgiven themselves.
How could they, when they saw in the temper of the
It was no doubt honourable to Aaron that his death
was appointed to be on that mountain in Seir. Old as
he was, he would never think of complaining that he was
ordained to climb it. Yet to the tired limbs it was
a steep, difficult path, a way of sorrow. Here, also,
we find resemblance to the close of many a worthy life.
High office in the Church has been well served, overflowing
wealth has been used in beneficence; but at
the last reverses have come. The man who was always
prosperous is now stripped of his possessions. Darkened
in mind by successive losses, bereaved of friends and
of power, he has to climb a dreary mountain-path to
the sharp end. It may be really honourable to such
Should the believer triumph over death through Christ? It is his privilege; but some display unwarranted complacency. They have confidence in the work of Christ; they boast that they rest everything on Him. But is it well with them if they have no sorrow because of days and years that ran to waste? Is it well with them if they deplore no failure in Christian effort when the reason is that they never gave heart and strength to any difficult task? Who can be satisfied with the apparent victory of faith at the last of one who never had high hopes for himself and others, and therefore was never disappointed? Better the sorrowful ending to a life that has dared great things and been defeated, that has cherished a pure ideal and come painfully short of it, than the exultation of those who even as Christians have lived to themselves.
Perhaps the circumstances that attended the death
Is it not good thus to be called away from the business
of the world, immersed in which every day men
have lost the due proportions of things, both of what
is earthly and what is spiritual? They have to leave
the computations recorded in their books, and what
Moses accompanied his brother to the mountain top.
By his hands, with all considerateness, the priestly
robes were taken from Aaron's shoulders and put on
Eleazar. The true friend he had all along relied upon
was with the dying man at the last, and closed his eyes.
In this there was a palliation of the decree under which
it would have been terrible to suffer alone; yet in the
end the loneliness of death had to be felt. We know
a Friend who passed through death for us, and made a
way into the higher life, but still we have our dread of
the solitude. How much heavier must it have weighed
when no clear hope of immortality shone upon the hill.
The vastness of nature was around the dying priest of
Eleazar followed Aaron and took up the work of
the priesthood, not less ably, let us believe, yet not
precisely with the same spirit, the same endowments.
And indeed to have one in all respects like Aaron
would not have served. The new generation, in new
circumstances, needs a new minister. Office remains;
but, as history moves on, it means always something
different. When the hour comes that requires a clear
step to be taken away from old notions and traditions
of duty, neither he who holds the office nor those to
whom he has ministered should complain or doubt.
It is not good that one should cling to work merely
because he has served well and may still seem able
to serve; often it is the case that before death commands
a change the time for one has come. Even the
men who are most useful to the world, Paul, Apollos,
Luther, do not die too soon. It may appear to us
that a man who has done noble work has no successor.
When, for instance, England loses its Dr. Arnold,
Stanley, Lightfoot, and we look in vain for one to
whom the robes are becoming, we have to trust that
by some education they did not foresee the Church has
to be perfected. The same theory, nominally, is not
the same when others undertake to apply it. The
same ceremonies have another meaning when performed
by other hands. There are ways to the full fruition
of Christ's government which go as far about as
Israel's to Canaan round the land of Moab, for a
time as truly retrogressive. But the great Leader
From the time of the departure from Kadesh onward
no mention is made of the pillar of cloud. It may
have still moved as the standard of the host; yet the
unsuccessful attempt to pass through Edom, followed
possibly by a northward march, and then by a southward
journey to the Elanitic Gulf when they "compassed
Mount Seir many days" (
The journey from Mount Hor to the borders of Moab
by way of the Red Sea, or Yâm-Suph, is very briefly
noticed in the narrative. Oboth, Iye-abarim, Zared,
are the only three names mentioned in chap. xxi. before
the border of Moab is reached. Chap. xxxiii.
gives Zalmonah, Punon, Oboth, and lastly Iye-abarim,
which is said to be in the border of Moab. The mention
of these names suggests nothing as to the extremely
trying nature of the journey; that is only indicated by
the statement, "the soul of the people was much discouraged
because of the way." The truth is, that of all
the stages of the wandering, these along the Arabah, and
from the Elanitic Gulf eastward and northward to the
valley of Zared, were perhaps the most difficult and
perilous. The Wady Arabah is "an expanse of shifting
sands, broken by innumerable undulations, and counter-sected
by a hundred watercourses." Along this plain Palgrave, "Central and Eastern Arabia," p. 2.
The only recorded episode belonging to the period of this march is that of the fiery serpents. In the Arabah and the whole North Arabian region the cobra, or naja haie, is common, and is superstitiously dreaded. Other serpents are so innocuous by comparison that this chiefly receives the attention of travellers. One incident is recorded thus by Mr. Stuart-Glennie:—"Two cobras have been caught, and one, which has been dexterously pinned by the neck in the slit end of a stick, its captor comes up triumphantly to exhibit.... After a time the fellow let it go, refusing to kill it, and permitting it to glide away unharmed. This I understood to be from fear—fear of the vengeance after death of what, in life, had been incapable of defending itself. At Petra ... the snakes which Hamilton, a fearless hunter of them, killed, the Arabs would not allow to lie within the encampment, asserting that we should thus bring the whole snake-tribe to which the individual belonged to avenge the death of their kinsman." Whether all the serpents that attacked the Israelites were cobras is doubtful; but the description "fiery" seems to point to the effects of the cobra-poison, which produces an intense burning sensation in the whole body. Another explanation of the adjective is found in the metallic sparkle of the reptiles.
"Much people of Israel died" of the bites of these
serpents, which, disturbed by the travellers as they
went sullenly and carelessly along, issued from crevices
of the ground and from the low shrubs in which they
lurked, and at once fastened on feet and hands. The
peculiar character of the new enemy caused universal
The serpents that lurked in the Israelites' way and
darted suddenly upon them are always felt to be
analogues of the subtle sins that spring on man and
poison his life. What traveller knows the moment
when he may feel in his soul the sharp sting of evil
desire that will burn in him to a deadly fever? Men
who have been wounded can, for a time, hide from
fellow-travellers their mortal hurt. They keep on the
march and make shift to look like others. Then the
madness reveals itself. Words are spoken, deeds are
done, that show the vile inoculation taking effect. By-and-by
there is another moral death. Humanity may
well fear the power of evil thoughts, of lusts, of
envious feelings, that serpent-like attack and madden
the soul; may well look up and cry aloud to God for
a sufficient remedy. No herb nor balm to be found
in the gardens or fields of earth is an antidote to this
Resuming his generous part as intercessor for the people, Moses sought and found the means to help them. He was to make a serpent of brass, an image of the foe, and erect it on a standard full in sight of the camp, and to it the eyes of the stricken people were to be turned. If they realised the Divine purpose of grace and trusted Jehovah while they looked, the power of the poison would be destroyed. The serpent of brass was nothing in itself, was, as long afterwards Hezekiah declared it to be, nehushtan; but as a symbol of the help and salvation of God it served the end. The stricken revived: the camp, almost in a panic through superstitious fear, was calmed. Once more it was known that He who smote the sinful, in wrath remembered mercy. It must be assumed that there was repentance and faith on the part of those who looked. The serpents appear as the means of punishment, and the poison loses its effect with the growth of the new spirit of submission. It has rightly been pointed out that the heathen view of the serpent as a healing power has no countenance here. That singular belief must have had its origin in the worship of the serpent which arose from dread of it as an embodiment of demoniacal energy. Our passage treats it as a creature of God, ready, like the lightning and the pestilence, or like the frogs and insects of the Egyptian plagues, to be used as an instrument in bringing home to men their sins.
And when our Lord recalled the episode of the
healing of Israel by means of the brazen serpent, He
certainly did not mean that the image in itself was in
any sense a type or even symbol of Him. It was lifted
up; He was to be lifted up: it was to be looked upon
Like the serpent poison, that of sin creates a burning
fever, a mortal disease. But into all the springs and
channels of infected life the renovating grace of God
enters through the long deep look of faith. We see
the Man, our brother, full of sympathy, the Son of God
our sin-bearer. The pity is profound as our need; the
strong spiritual might, sin-conquering, life-giving, is
enough for each, more than sufficient for all. We look—to
wonder, to hope, to trust, to love, to rejoice with
joy unspeakable and full of glory. We see our condemnation,
At Iye-abarim, the Heaps of the Outlands, "which
is toward the sunrising," the worst of the desert march
was over. That the long and dreary wilderness did
not swallow up the host is, humanly speaking, matter
of astonishment. Yet singular light is thrown on the
journey by an incident recorded by Mr. Palmer. In
the midst of the broken country extending from the
neighbourhood of the ancient Kadesh to the Arabah,
he and his companions encamped at the head of the
Wady Abu Taraimeh, which slopes to the south-east.
Here in the midst of the desolate mountains a quite
young girl, small, solitary traveller, was found. She
was on her way to Abdeh, some twenty miles behind,
and had come from a place called Hesmeh, six days'
journey beyond Akabah, a distance of some hundred
and fifty miles. "She had been without bread or
water, and had only eaten a few herbs to support
herself by the way." The simple trust of the child
could achieve what strong men might have pronounced
impossible. And the Israelites, knowing little of the
road, trusted and hoped and pressed on till the green
hills of Moab were at last in sight. The march was
At this point the history incorporates, why we cannot tell, part of an old song from the "Book of the Wars of Jehovah."
The picturesque topography of this chant, the meaning
of which as a whole is obscured for us by the first
line, may be the sole reason of its quotation. If we
read "Vaheb in storm" we have a word-picture of the
scene under impressive conditions; and if the storm
is that of war the relique may belong to the time
of the contest described in ver. 26 when the Amorite
chief, crossing Jordan, gained the northern heights and
drove the Moabites in confusion across the Arnon
toward the stronghold of Ar, some twelve or fifteen
miles to the south. Yet another ancient song is
connected with a station called Beer, or the Well,
some spot in the wilderness north of the Arnon valley.
The seeking of the precious water by rude art in a thirsty valley kindles the mind of some poet of the people. And his song is spirited, with ample recognition of the zeal of the princes who themselves take part in the labour. While they dig he chants, and the people join in the song till the words are fixed in their memory, so as to become part of the traditions of Israel.
The finding of a spring, the discovery that by their
own effort they can reach the living water laid up for
them beneath the sand, is an event to the Israelites,
worth preserving in a national ballad. What does
this imply? That the resources of nature and the
means of unlocking them were still only beginning to
be understood? We are almost compelled to think so,
whatever conclusions this may involve. And Israel,
slowly finding out the Divine provision lying beneath
the surface of things, is a type of those who very
gradually discover the possibilities that are concealed
beneath the seemingly ordinary and unpromising. By
the beaten tracks of life, in its arid valleys, there are,
for those who dig, wells of comfort, springs of truth
and salvation. Men are athirst for inspiration, for
power. They think of these as endowments for which
they must wait. In point of fact they have but to open
the fountains of conscience and of generous feeling
in order to find what they desire. Multitudes faint by
the way because they will not seek for themselves the
water of Divine truth that would reinvigorate their
From Beer in the wilderness the march skirted the green fields and valleys of the country once held by the Moabites, now under Sihon the Amorite. When they had gone but a few stages along this route the leaders of the host found it necessary to enter into negotiations. They were now some twenty miles only by road from the fords of Jordan, but Heshbon, a strong fortress, confronted them. The Amorites must be either conciliated or attacked. This time there was no circuitous way that could be taken; a critical hour had come.
The presence of the Amorites on the eastern side of
Jordan is accounted for in a passage extending from
vv. 26-30. Moab had apparently, as at a later time
referred to by one of the prophets, been at ease, resting
securely behind her mountain rampart. Suddenly the
The chant rejoicing over the defeated goes on to tell how the sons of Moab fled, and her daughters were taken captive; how the arms of the Amorite were victorious from Heshbon to Dibon, over Nophah and Medeba. The Israelites arriving soon after this sanguinary conflict, found the conquered region immediately beyond the Arnon open to their advance. The Amorites had not yet occupied the whole of the land; their power was concentrated about Heshbon, which according to the song had been rebuilt.
The request made of Sihon to allow the passage of
a people on its way to Jordan and the country beyond
came possibly at a time when the Amorites were scarcely
prepared for resistance. They had been successful,
but their forces were insufficient for the large district
And having once tasted success the warriors of Israel did not sheathe their swords. The fortress of Amman guarded the land of the Ammonites so strongly that it seemed for the time perilous to strike in that direction. Crossing the valley of the Jabbok, however, and leaving the fierce Ammonites unattacked, the Israelites had Bashan before them; a fertile region of innumerable streams, populous, and with many strongholds and cities. There was hesitation for a time, but the oracle of Jehovah reassured the army. Og the king of Bashan waited the attack at Edrei in the north of his kingdom, about forty miles east from the Sea of Galilee. Israel was again victorious. The king of Bashan, his sons, and his army were cut to pieces.
Such was the rapid success the Israelites had in
their first campaign, amazing enough, though partly
explained by the strifes and wars which had reduced
the strength of the peoples they attacked. We must
not suppose, however, that though the Amorites and
The army had passed into the north, but the main body of the people descended from the neighbourhood of Heshbon by a pass leading to the Jordan Valley. The return of the victorious troops after a few months gave them the assurance that at last they could safely prepare for the long expected entrance into the Land of Promise.
Suffering and the discipline of the wilderness had
educated the Israelites for the day of action. By what
a long and tedious journey they reached their success!
Behind them, yet with them still, was Sinai, whose
lightnings and awful voices made them aware of the
power of Jehovah into covenant with whom they entered,
whose law they received. As a people bound
solemnly to the unseen Almighty God they left that
mountain and journeyed towards Kadesh. But the
covenant had neither been thoroughly accepted nor
thoroughly understood. They began their march from
the mountain of the Lord as the people of Jehovah, yet
expecting that He was to do all for them, require little
at their hands. The other side of privilege, the duty
they owed to God, had to be impressed by many a
painful chastisement, by the sorrows and disasters of
the way. Wonderfully, all things considered, had they
sped, though their murmurings were the sign of an
ignorant rebellious temper which was incompatible
It is so in the making of manhood, in the discipline of the soul. Sinai, and the awful declarations of duty and of the Divine claim there, must enter into our life; it would be light, frivolous, and incapable otherwise. But the revelation of power and righteousness does not insure our submission to the power, our conformity to the righteousness. Divine words have to be followed by Divine deeds; we have to learn that in God's kingdom there is to be no murmuring, no shrinking even from death, no turning back. It is a lesson that tries the generations. How many will not learn it! In society, in the Church, the rebellious spirit is shown and has to be corrected. At the "Graves of Lust," at the "Place of Burning," murmurers are judged, those who refuse God's way fall and are left behind. And when the Land of Promise is in sight possession of it shall not be easily obtained by those who are still half-wedded to the old life, distrustful of the righteousness of God and His demand on the whole love and service of the soul. There is indeed no heaven for those who look back, who even if angels were to hurry them on would still lament the losses of this life as irremediable. There must be the courage of the daring soul that adventures all on faith, on the Divine promise, on the eternity of the spiritual.
Wherefore, that the earthly temper may be taken
out of us, we have to cross desert after desert, to make
long circuits through the hot and thirsty wilderness
even when we think our faith complete and our hope
nigh its fulfilment. It is as those who overcome we
are to enter the kingdom. Not as "the world's poor
routed leavings," not obtaining permission from Edomites
or Amorites to slip ingloriously through their land,
but as those who with the sword of the Spirit can
Now the march of Israel had kept to the desert side
of Moab, so that the king and people of that land had
no reason to complain. But the campaign against the
Amorites, ending so quickly and decisively for the
invaders, showed what might have taken place if they
had attacked Moab, what might yet come to pass if
they turned southward instead of crossing the Jordan.
And there was great dismay. "Moab was sore afraid
By the "Midianites" we must understand the Bedawin of the time, the desert tribes which possibly had their origin in Midian, east of the Elanitic Gulf, but were now spread far and wide. On the borders of Moab a large and important clan of this people fed their flocks; and to their elders Balak appealed. "Now," he said, "shall this multitude lick up all that is round about us, as the ox licketh up the grass of the field." The result of the consultation was not an expedition of war but one of a quite different kind. Even the wild Bedawin had been dismayed by the firm resolute tread of the Israelites, a people marching on, as no people had ever been seen to march, from faraway Egypt to find a new home. The elders of Moab and of Midian cannot decide on war; but superstition points to another means of attack. May they not obtain a curse against Israel, under the influence of which its strength shall decay? Is there not in Pethor one who knows the God of this people and has the power of dreadful malediction? They will send for him; Balaam shall invoke disaster on the invaders, then peradventure Balak will prevail, and smite them, and drive them out of the land.
There can be no doubt in what direction we are
to look for Pethor, the dwelling-place of the great
diviner. It is "by the River," that is to say, by the
River Euphrates. It is in Aram, for thence Balaam "The Higher Criticism and the Monuments," p. 274.
It may be further said with regard to Mr. Sayce's
valuable work, that he does not attempt to deal particularly
with the prophecies of Balaam. "They must,"
he says, "be explained by Hebrew philology before
The divination of which so great things were expected
by Balak is amply illustrated in the Babylonian
remains. Among the Chaldeans the art of divination
rested "on the old belief in every object of inanimate
nature being possessed or inhabited by a spirit, and
the later belief in a higher power, ruling the world and
human affairs to the smallest detail, and constantly
manifesting itself through all things in nature as through
secondary agents, so that nothing whatever could occur
without some deeper significance which might be discovered
and expounded by specially trained and favoured
individuals." The Chaldeo-Babylonians "not only
carefully noted and explained dreams, drew lots in
doubtful cases by means of inscribed arrows, interpreted
the rustle of trees, the plashing of fountains and murmur
of streams, the direction and form of lightnings, not
only fancied that they could see things in bowls of
water, and in the shifting forms assumed by the flame
which consumed sacrifices and the smoke which rose
therefrom, and that they could raise and question the
spirits of the dead, but drew presages and omens, for
good or evil, from the flight of birds, the appearance
of the liver, lungs, heart, and bowels of the animals
offered in sacrifice and opened for inspection, from the
natural defects or monstrosities of babies or the young
of animals—in short, from any and everything that
We cannot of course affirm that Balaam was one of these Chaldeans, or that his art was precisely of the kind described. He is declared by the narrative to have received communications from God. There can, however, be no doubt that his wide reputation rested on the mystical rites by which he sought his oracles, for these, and not his natural sagacity, would impress the common mind. When the elders of Moab and Midian went to seek him they carried the "rewards of divination" in their hands. It was believed that he might obtain from Jehovah the God of the Israelites some knowledge concerning them on which a powerful curse might be based. If then, in right of his office, he pronounced the malediction, the power of Israel would be taken away. The journey to Pethor was by the oasis of Tadmor and the fords at Carchemish. A considerable time, perhaps a month, would be occupied in going and returning. But there was no other man on whose insight and power dependence could be placed. Those who carried the message were men of rank, who might have gone as ambassadors to a king. It was confidently expected that the soothsayer would at once undertake the important commission.
Arriving at Pethor they find Balaam and convey the
message, which ends with the flattering words, "I
know that he whom thou blessest is blessed, and he
whom thou cursest is cursed." But they have to treat
with no vulgar thaumaturgist, no mere weaver of spells
and incantations. This is a man of intellectual power,
Three of the New Testament writers, the Apostles Peter, John, and Jude, refer to Balaam in terms of reprobation. He is "Balaam the son of Beor who loved the hire of wrongdoing"; he "taught Balak to cast a stumbling-block before the children of Israel, to eat things sacrificed to idols, and to commit fornication"; he is the type of those who run riotously in the way of error for hire. Gathering up the impressions of his whole life, these passages declare him avaricious and cunningly malignant, a prophet who perverting his gifts brought on himself a special judgment. At the outset, however, Balaam does not appear in this light. The pictorial narrative shows a man of imposing personality, who claims the "vision and the faculty Divine." He seems resolute to keep by the truth rather than gratify any dreams of ambition or win great pecuniary rewards. It is worth while to study a character so mingled, in circumstances that may be called typical of the old world.
Did Balaam enjoy communications with God? Had
he real prophetic insight? Or must we hold with
It would appear at first sight that Balaam, as a
heathen, was separated by a great gulf from the
Hebrews. But at the time to which the narrative of
Numbers refers, if not at the period of its composition,
the boundary line implied by the word "gentile" did
not exist. Moses had clearly taught to the Hebrews
ethical and religious truths which neighbouring nations
saw very indistinctly; and the Israelites were beginning
to know themselves a chosen race. Yet Abraham was
their father, and other peoples could claim descent
from him. Edom, for example, is in
At the stage of history, then, to which our passage
belongs, the strongly marked differences between nation
and nation afterwards insisted upon were not realised.
And this is so far true in respect of religion, that
though the Kenites, a Midianite tribe, did not follow
the way of Jehovah, Moses, as we have seen, had no
difficulty in joining with them in a sacrificial feast in
honour of the Lord of Heaven. If beyond the circle
of the tribes any one, impressed by their history,
attributing their rescue from Egypt and their successful
march towards Canaan to Jehovah, acknowledged His
greatness and began to approach Him with sacred
rites, no doubt would have existed among the Hebrews
generally that by such a man their God could be found
and His favour won. The narrative before us, stating
that Jehovah called Balaam and communicated with
him, simply declares what the more patriotic and
religious Israelites would have had no difficulty whatever
in receiving. This diviner of Pethor had heard of
So far, however, we touch only the beliefs, or possible
beliefs, of the Israelites. The facts may be quite
different. We are in the way of considering revelations
of the Divine will to have been so uncommon and sacred
that a man of very high character alone could have
enjoyed them. If indeed God spoke to Balaam, it must
have been in another way than to Abraham, Moses,
Elijah. Especially since his history shows him to have
been a man bad at heart, we are inclined to pronounce
his consultation of God mere pretence; and as for his
prophecies, did he not simply hear of Israel's greatness
and forecast the future with the prescience of a clear
calculator, who used his eyes and reason to good
purpose? But with this the gist of the Bible narrative
cannot be said to agree. It seems to be certainly
implied that God did speak to Balaam, open his eyes,
unfold to him things far off in the future. Although
many cases might be adduced which go to prove that
an acute man of the world, weighing causes and tracing
the drift of things, may show wonderful foresight, yet
the language here used points to more than that. It
seems to mean that Divine illumination was given to
one beyond the circle of the chosen people, to one who
from the first was no friend of God and at the last
showed himself a malicious enemy of Israel. And the
doctrine must be that any one who, looking beneath
the surface of things, studying the character of men and
peoples, connects the past and the present and anticipates
Reaching Pethor the messengers of Balak state their
request. Instead of going with them at once, as a
false man might be expected to do, Balaam declares
that he must consult Jehovah; and the result of his
consultation is that he declines. In the morning he
says to the princes of Moab, "Get you into your
land, for Jehovah refuseth to give me leave to go
with you." The question whether Israel was a fit
Had not the future proceedings of Balaam cast their
shadow back on his career and words, he might have
been pronounced at the outset a man of integrity.
The rewards offered him were probably large. We
may believe that whatever reputation Balaam had
previously enjoyed this embassy was the most important
ever sent to him, the greatest tribute to his fame.
And we would have been inclined to say, Here is an
example of conscientiousness. Balaam might go with
the princes at least, though he can pronounce no curse
on Israel; but he does not; he is too honourable even
to profess the desire to gratify his patrons. This
favourable judgment, however, is forbidden. It was
Still, the small amount of sincerity there is in Balaam, superimposed on his self-love and diplomacy, is in contrast to the utter want of it which men often show. They are of a party, and at the first call they will make shift to denounce whatever their leaders bid them denounce. There is no pretence even of waiting for a night to have time for quiet reflection; much less any anxious thought regarding Divine providence, righteousness, mercy, by means of which duty may be discovered. It is possible for men to appear earnest defenders of religion who never go even as far as Balaam went in seeking the guidance of truth and principle. They pass judgments with a haste that shows the shallow heart. Tempted by some envious Balak within, even when no appeal is made, they set up as soothsayers and take on them to prophesy evil.
The messengers of Balak returned with the report
of their disappointment; but what they had to say
caused, as Balaam no doubt intended, greater anxiety
than ever to secure his services. One who was so
lofty, and at the same time so much in the secrets of
the God Israel worshipped, was indeed a most valuable
ally, and his help must be obtained at any price. Did
he say that Jehovah refused to give him leave? Balak
will assure him of rewards which no God of Israel can
give, very great recompense, tangible, immediate. Other
messengers are sent, more, and more honourable than
the former, and they carry very flattering offers. If
The conduct of Balaam when he is appealed to the
second time confirms the judgment it has been found
necessary to pronounce on his character. He behaves
like a man who has been expecting, and yet, with what
conscience he has, dreading, the renewed invitation.
He appears indeed to be emphatic in declaring his
superiority to the offer of reward: "If Balak would
give me his house full of silver and gold, I cannot go
beyond the word of the Lord my God, to do less or
more." The air of incorruptible virtue is kept. The
Moabites and Midianites are to understand that they
have to do with a man whose whole soul is set on
truth. And the protestation would deceive us—only
Balaam does not dismiss the men. Giving him all
credit for an intention still to keep right with the
Almighty, or, shall we say? allowing that he was too
clever a man to imperil his reputation by intending a
curse which would not be followed by any ill effects,
we find immediately that he is unwilling to let the
opportunity pass. He asks the messengers to tarry
for the night, that he may again consult Jehovah in the
matter. He has already seen the truth as to Israel,
the promise of its splendid career. Yet he will repeat
the inquiry, ask once more regarding the prospect he
has distinctly seen. It is ambition that moves him,
and perhaps, along with that, avarice. May he not be
able to say something that will sound like a curse,
something on which Balak shall fasten in the belief
that it gives him power against Israel? It would,
at all events, be a gratification to travel in state
It was possible for Balaam during the interval of the two embassies to recover himself. He was one who could understand integrity, who knew enough of the conditions of success to see that absolute consistency is the only strength. There was a straight way which he might have followed. But temptation pressed on him. Tired of the narrow field within which he had as yet exercised his powers, he saw one wider and more splendid open to him. The wealth was no small inducement. He was in the way of divining for reward; this was the greatest ever in his reach. And Balaam, knowing well how base and vain his pretext was, resigned his integrity, even the pretence of it, when he bade the messengers wait.
Yet was his fault a singular one? We cannot say
that he showed extraordinary covetousness in desiring
Balak's silver and gold. For the time, in the circumstances,
scarcely anything else could be expected of a
man like him. To judge Balaam by modern Christian
rules is an anachronism. The remarkable thing is to
find one of his class at all scrupulous about the means
he employs to promote himself. We say that he was
guilty of perverting conscience; and so he was. But
his conscience did not see or speak so clearly as ours.
And are not Christian men liable to have their heads
turned by the countenance of those in a higher rank
The fault of Balaam, a fault of which he could not
fail to be conscious, was that of tampering with his
inspiration. The insight he possessed—and which he
valued—had come through his sincere estimate of
things and men apart from any pressure brought to bear
on him to take a side either for money or for fame. His
mind using perfect freedom, travelling in a way of sincere
judgment, had reached a height from which he enjoyed
wide prospects. As a man and a prophet he had his
standing through this superiority to the motives that
swayed vulgar minds. The admission of sordid influences,
whether it began with the visit of Balak's
messengers or had been previously allowed, was perhaps
the first great error of his life. And it is so in
the case of every man who has found the strength of
integrity and reached the vision of the true. The
Christian who has held himself free from the entanglements
of the world, refusing to touch its questionable
rewards, or to be influenced by its jealousy and envy,
has what may be called his inspiration, though it lifts
It is a sad thing when one who has felt himself
"born to the good, to the perfect," who has gained the
power that comes through reverence, and sees greater
power before him, yields to that which is not venerable,
not pure. The beginnings of the fatal surrender may
be small. Only a throb of self-consciousness and satisfaction
when some one speaks a word of flattery or
with show of much deference prefers an astute request.
Only a disposition to listen when in seeming friendship
counsel of a plausible kind is offered, and milder ways
of judging are recommended to lessen friction and put
an end to discord. Even the strong are so weak,
and those who see are so easily blinded, that no one
can count himself safe. And indeed it is not the
great temptations, like that which came to Balaam, we
have chiefly to dread. The very greatness of a bribe
and magnificence of an opportunity put conscience on
its guard. Peril comes rather when the appeal for
Men in their need, in their sorrow, their self-esteem, would have the true man revoke his judgment, yield a point at least to their entreaties. He will do them kindness, he will show himself human, reasonable, judicious. But on the other side are those to whom, in showing this consideration, he will be unjust, declaring their honour worthless, their sore struggle a useless waste of strength; and he himself stands before the Judge. The one sure way is that which keeps the life in the line of the statutes of God, and every judgment in full accord with His righteousness.
In harmony with this general movement is the result
of Balaam's second appeal for permission to take the
journey to Moab. He receives it, but with a reservation.
Fear of the great God whom he invokes holds
him to the conviction that whatever he may do no
It was in a kind of madness the diviner set out from Pethor by the way of the Euphrates' ford. Excited by the hope of gaining the rewards and enjoying the fame awaiting him in Moab, he was at the same time conscious of being in opposition to the God of Israel, and committed to an adventure that might end disastrously. He went in a mood of wilfulness, hoping and yet half doubting that his way would become clear, irritable therefore, ready to resent every hindrance. A diviner of repute, credited with powers of blessing and cursing, he perhaps felt himself safe on ordinary occasions, especially among his own people, even when he went against those who consulted him. But could he count on the forbearance of the king of Moab into whose country he was venturing? Jehovah might be opening his way only to destruction. Such fears could hardly be avoided.
And men who have gone back to conscience endeavouring
to extort from it a sanction or permission
previously denied, who, with some half assurance that
the way is open, set out on a desired course, are practically
in the same mad mood, have equal reason to
Like Balaam, one who thus extorts from conscience,
Well has it been said that no virtue is safe without
enthusiasm. A man cannot be true to the highest law
unless he has the motive within him of pure devotion
to God as his personal Redeemer, unless he recognises
that his joy in God and his salvation are bound up
with fidelity to the moral ideal which is presented to
him. Faith, hope, love must inspire and keep the soul
in fervour of desire to reach the heights to which it
God does not make the wrong way smooth for one
who has extorted permission to follow it. A man
desiring to enter on a course which he sees to be
dishonourable or at least dubious may be absolutely
prevented at first. His appeal is to Providence. If
circumstances allowed his plan he would reckon the
Divine will favourable to it. But they do not. Every
door he tries in the direction he wishes to take is
barred against him. Afterwards one yields to pressure,
or is thrown wide because he knocks at it persistently.
The narrative here is confessedly difficult. One of
the most reverent commentators on the passage declares
that he feels too deeply the essential veracity of the
story to be troubled with minute questions about its
details. "I would not," he says, "force them upon
any one's belief merely by uttering the coarse sentence,
that they are in the Bible and therefore must be
received. One is afraid of leading people to fancy
that they do believe what they do not believe, and so
of propagating hypocrisy under the name of faith."
To some the narrative may present no serious difficulty.
They accept it literally at every point. Others again
are not so easily satisfied that the occasion called for
miracles like those which appear on the face of the
history. It seems to them of no great moment whether
Balaam went or did not go to Moab, whether he cursed
Israel or blessed it. Neither the curse nor the blessing
In many unforeseen, singular, and often homely ways, men are checked in the endeavour to carry out the schemes which ambition and avarice prompt. The angel of the Lord who opposes one bent on a bad enterprise often appears in familiar guise. To some men their wives stand in the way, some are challenged by their children. What in voluntary blindness they have declined to see—the madness of the wrong course, the intrinsic baseness of the thing undertaken—those who look with pure eyes perceive clearly and are brave enough to condemn. At other times obstacles are placed in the way by the simple ordinary duties which claim attention, occupy thought and time, and tend to bring back the mind to humility and saneness. Yet covetousness can make men very blind. Under the influence of it they suppose themselves to be acting cleverly, while all the time those whom they think they are outwitting see them posting on the way to bankruptcy and shame.
Even a good man may lose his spiritual discrimination occasionally when he fancies himself called to curse not Israel but Moab, and sets out in heat upon the errand. He fails to see that the case of Balaam is so far parallel to his own that he ought to expect an angel to oppose him. The critical Balaam who feels it his high duty to pronounce maledictions on some theological opponent, not for silver and gold, but for the cause of God, is resisted by many an angel bearing the sharp sword of the Word, set to declare the great tolerance of Christ, and to vindicate the liberty that is in Him. That men fail to see these angels, or else ride past them, is abundantly evident, for the altars smoke on many a height, and scrolls of futile condemnation are flung upon the breeze.
Balaam smites the ass even when she falls down
under him in her abject terror. He endeavours to
force her on till at last he is put to shame by her
rebuke. We are pointed to the irrational way in which
those act whose moral judgment is blinded. Their
course being wrong, they do not turn against themselves,
but rise in passion against every person or
thing that hinders. The husband who is resolved
to take a wrong path thrusts away his faithful wife;
the son bent on what will be his ruin pushes off his
weeping mother when she pleads before him. Often
an apparently inexplicable fit of temper in public or in
private means that a man is in the wrong and is aware
of a mistake, from the consequences of which he would
fain escape. One's heart bleeds for none more than
for those victims of selfish anger who suffer under the
abuse of the Balaams of society. They have seen the
angel in the way. They have sought by a gesture or
a warning word to arrest the friend who would go on
In Balaam's case there was a happier issue than is often seen. The protest against his cruelty opened his eyes to the truth that a messenger of God stood in his way. The rebuke came home to him. So might a hard, self-willed man who rode rough-shod over the feelings and rights of others be brought suddenly to a sense of his cruelty by the look on the face of a dog. Bad as men and women may be, violent and abusive as they may become in times of anger and impatience, there are ways of softening their hearts. They go on for years attempting to justify themselves in a rough and selfish course. But who shall say that even the seeming worst are beyond recovery? When there appears to be no redeeming feature left in the character, the crisis may be at hand, the transgressor may be so taught by the piteous look of a dumb animal that his infatuation will come to an end. Recoiling from himself he will acknowledge his perversity and turn to better thoughts.
How far did Balaam's repentance go? There can
be little doubt the motive of it was the sudden discovery
that the God of Israel was mightier and more observant
than he had imagined; in short, that Jehovah was his
master. Balaam yields, changes his mind, not because
he is in the least degree more disposed to do what is
And so it often is with men who find their schemes
counteracted, and are made to feel their weakness in
presence of the forces of human government, or of the
natural world. Their confession of sin is really a sullen
acknowledgment of impotence. Sift their feelings and
you discover no sense of guilt. They miscalculated,
and they regret having done so, because it is to their
shame. They will go back to make other plans, to lay
the foundations deeper with greater subtlety, and by-and-by,
if they can, to carry out their ideas and gratify
their covetousness and ambition in other ways. Sometimes
indeed it may become clear to a man that his
efforts to advance himself, such as he is, cannot prosper
because Omnipotence is against him. Then acknowledgment
of defeat is confession of despair. Of this
we see an example in the first Napoleon after his final
capture when he was on the voyage to St. Helena.
Balaam will return, confessing himself defeated for the time. But he learns that he may not. He has come so far with designs of his own; he must now go on to Moab to serve the purposes of God. The permission he wrested, so to speak, from Providence, was not wrested after all. There are deeper schemes than Balaam can form, the great far-reaching plans of the God of Israel, and by these, however unwillingly, the soothsayer of Pethor is now bound. This journey has been of his own perverse choosing; now he must finish it, feeling himself at every point a servant, an instrument; and if danger and even death await him, still he must proceed. Easy it is to begin in the craftiness of human purpose and the foolishness of earthly hope; but the end is not under the control of him who begins. There is One who orders all things so that the gifts of men and their perversity and their wrath shall all praise Him, shall all be woven into the web of His evolving purpose, universal, holy, sure.
It is a startling thought that in a sense whatever we begin in pride or self-will, playing, as it were, the first act of the drama on some stage we ourselves select, the movement cannot be arrested when we choose. In one way or another, act after act must proceed to the very end which God foreordains. Many human purposes appear to be sharply and completely broken off. In the midst of his days man hears the call he cannot disobey. His tools, his hopes, his declared intentions must be laid aside. But the end is not yet. The curtain has fallen here. It will be raised again. And in many unfoldings of Divine purpose we witness scene after scene, in scene after scene have to play our part. One who has begun ill may sincerely repent, and then the development takes a direction which will be to the glory of Divine grace. That act of repentance over, another comes, in which the humble thought of the penitent reveals itself. He is seen a new man, timorous where he was bold, bold where he was timorous. Beyond there are other scenes, in which he shall be found endeavouring to repair the evil he has done, to gather the poisoned arrows he has strewed about the world. And the consummation shall be reached when the task at which he has vainly laboured is completed for him by Christ, and his recovery and the restitution he toiled for shall be complete.
But if there is no penitence, still the drama must
go on to its finish. The man resenting, yet unable to
resist, shall do what God requires, what God permits.
He shall attempt to curse, yet be constrained to bless.
He shall in bitterness of anger frame new devices and
carry them out. Then, when the cup of his iniquity
is full, and all is done Providence allows, retribution
shall overtake him. In the thick of battle the sword
There is a purpose of God which Balaam is unwilling to subserve; and of that the man becomes gradually aware. When he is met by Balak and his train and upbraided with his reluctance to come where honours and rewards are to be had, the soothsayer realises his peril and begins at once to prepare the Moabite king for disappointment. "Lo, I am come unto thee," he says: "have I now any power at all to speak anything? The word that God putteth in my mouth, that shall I speak." What we see now is a contest between the influence of Balak, with his power to reward and also to punish, and the consciousness of a constraint which had entered deeply into Balaam's mind. The sense of Jehovah's authority over him on this occasion was indeed supported by another strong motive which the diviner never allowed to fall into the background. He had his reputation to maintain. At whatever hazard, he must show himself to Moabites, Midianites, Aramæans, a man who knew the knowledge of the Most High. The ignorance of Balak is seen in his absurd hope that for the sake of some bribe of his the prophet of Pethor will be induced to fling away his fame.
There are things which even money cannot buy.
There is a limit beyond which even a false and
The evening of Balaam's arrival has been spent in
the sacrificial festival, and in the morning Balak and
his princes escort the diviner to the Bamoth-Baal that
he may begin his experiment. After his usual manner,
Balaam pompously requires that great arrangements
be made for the trial of auguries by means of which
his oracle is to be found. Balak has offered sacrifices
to Chemosh; now Jehovah must be propitiated, and
seven altars have to be built, and on each of them
a bullock and a ram offered by fire. The altars
It was now a critical hour for the ambitious prophet.
He had indeed already found distinction, for who in
Moab or Midian could have commanded with so royal
an air and received attention so obsequious? But the
reward remained to be won. Yet may we not assume
that when Balaam reached Moab and saw the pitiable
state of what had been once a strong kingdom, the
cities half ruined, filled with poor and dejected inhabitants,
he conceived a kind of contempt for Balak and
perceived that his offers must be set aside as worthless?
God met Balaam, we are told. And this may have
been the sense in which God met him and put a word
into his mouth. What was Moab compared with
Israel? A glance at Kiriath-huzoth, a little experience
of Balak's empty boastfulness and the entreaties and
anxiety which betrayed his weakness, would show
Balaam the vanity of proposing to reinvigorate Moab
at the expense of Israel. His way led clearly enough
where the finger of the God of Israel pointed, and his
mind almost anticipated what the Voice he heard as
Jehovah's declared. He saw the smoke streaming
south-eastward, and casting a black shadow between
Rapidly the diviner had to form his decision. That done, the words of the oracle could be trusted to the inspiration of the moment, inspiration from Jehovah, whose superiority to all the gods of Syria Balaam now heartily acknowledged. He accordingly left his place of vision and returned to the Bamoth where the altars still smoked. Then he took up his parable and spoke.
In this parable, or mashal, along with some elements of egotism and self-defence, there are others that have the ring of inspiration. The opening is a vaunt, and the expression, "How can I curse whom God hath not cursed?" is a form of self-vindication which savours of vanity. We see more of the cowed and half-resentful man than of the prophet. Yet the vision of a people dwelling apart, not to be reckoned among the others, is a real revelation, boldly flung out. Something of the difference already established between Israel and the goim, or peoples of the Syrian district, had been caught by the seer in his survey of past events, and now came to clear expression. For a moment, at least, his soul rose almost into spiritual desire in the cry that his last end should be of the kind an Israelite might have; one who with calm confidence laid himself down in the arms of the great God, the Lord of providence, of death as well as life.
A man has learned one lesson of great value for the
conduct of life when he sees that he cannot curse whom
God has not cursed, that he would be foolish to menace
whom God has not menaced. Reaching this point of
sight, Balaam stands superior for the time to the vulgar
ideas of men like the king of Moab, who have no conception
of a strong and dominant will to which human
desires are all subjected. However reluctantly this
confession is made, it prevents many futile endeavours
and much empty vapouring. There are some indeed
whose belief that fate must be on their side is simply
immovable. Those whom they choose to reckon enemies
are established in the protection of heaven; but they
In smaller matters, the attempts at impudent detraction
which are common, when the base, girding at
the good, think it possible to bring them to contempt,
or at least stir them to unseemly anger, or prick
them to humiliating self-defence, the law is often well
enough understood, yet neither the assailants nor those
attacked may be wise enough to recognise it. A man
who stands upon his faithfulness to God does not need
to be vexed by the menaces of the base; he should despise
them. Yet he often allows himself to be harassed,
and so yields all the victory hoped for by his detractor.
Balaam's vision of Israel as a separated people, a
people dwelling alone, had singular penetration. The
others he knew—Amorites, Moabites, Ammonites,
Midianites, Hittites, Aramæans—went together, scarcely
distinguishable in many respects, with their national
Baals all of the same kind. Was Ammon or Chemosh,
Melcarth or Sutekh, the name of the Baal? The rites
might differ somewhat, there might be more or less
ferocity ascribed to the deities; but on the whole their
likeness was too close for any real distinction. And
the peoples, differing in race, in culture, in habit, no
doubt, were yet alike in this, that their morality and
their mental outlook passed no boundary, were for the
most part of the beaten, crooked road. Strifes and
petty ambitions here and there, temporary combinations
for ignoble ends, the rise of one above another
for a time under some chief who held his ground by
force of arms, then fell and disappeared—such were
the common events of their histories. But Israel came
into Balaam's sight as a people of an entirely different
kind, generically distinct. Their God was no Baal
ferocious by report, really impotent, a mere reflection
of human passion and lust. Jehovah's law was a
creation, like nothing in human history ascribed to a
God. His worship meant solemn obligation, imposed,
acknowledged, not simply to honour Him, but to be
pure and true and honest in honouring Him. Israel
had no part in the orgies that were held in professed
worship of the Baals, really to the disgrace of their
devotees. The lines of the national development had
been laid down, and Balaam saw to some extent how
widely they diverged from those along which other
For the time Israel might be called the one spiritual people. It was this Balaam partly saw, and made the basis of his striking predictions. The modern nations are not to be distinguished by the same testing idea. The thoughts and hopes of Christianity have entered more or less into all that are civilised, and have touched others that can scarcely be called so. Yet if there is any oracle for the peoples of our century it is one that turns on the very point which Balaam seems to have had in view. But it is, that not one of them, as a nation, is distinctly moved and separated from others by spirituality of aim. Of not one can it be said that it is confessedly, eagerly, on the way to a Canaan where the Living and True God shall be worshipped, that its popular movements, its legislation, its main endeavours look to such a heavenly result. If we saw a people dwelling apart, with a high spiritual aim, resolutely excluding those ideas of materialism which dominate the rest, of them it would not be presumptuous to prophesy in the high terms to which the oracles of Balaam gradually rose.
Regarding the wish with which the diviner closed his
first mashal, hard things have been said, as for example,
that "even in his sublimest visions his egotism breaks
out; in the sight of God's Israel he cries, 'Let me die
the death of the righteous.'" Here, however, there
may be personal sorrow and regret, a pathetic confession
of human fear by one who has been brought
Wistfully, men whose life has been on the low ground of mere earthly toil and pleasure may, in like manner, when the end draws near, envy the confidence and hope of the good. For the old age of the sensualist, and even of the successful man of the world, is under a dull wintry sky, with no prospect of another morning, or even of a quiet night of dreamless sleep.
Courage and peace at the last belong to those alone
who have kept in the way of righteousness. To them
and no others light shall arise in the darkness. The
faithfulness of God is their refuge even when the last
shadows fall. He whom they trust goes before them
in the pillar of fire when night is on the world, as well
as in the pillar of cloud by day. To the man of this
It was with growing dissatisfaction, rising to anxiety, Balak heard the first oracle that fell from the diviner's lips. Despite the warning he had received that only the words which Jehovah gave should be spoken, he hoped for some kind of a curse. His altars had been built, his oxen and rams sacrificed, and surely, he thought, all would not be in vain! Balaam had not travelled from Pethor to mock him. But the prophecy carried not a single word of heartening to the enemies of Israel. The camp lay in the full sunshine of fortune, unobscured by the least cloud. It was the first blow to Balak's malignant jealousy, and might well have put him to confusion. But men of his sort are rich in conjectures and expedients. He had set his mind on this as the means of finding advantage in a struggle that was sure to come; and he clung to his hope. Although the curse would not light on the whole camp of Israel, yet it might fall on a part, the remote outlying portion of the tribes. In superstition men are for ever catching at straws. If the anger of some heavenly power, what power mattered little to Balak, could be once enlisted against the tribes, even partially, the influence of it might spread. And it would at least be something if pestilence or lightning smote the utmost part of that threatening encampment.
One must be sorry for men whose impotent anger
has to fall on expedients so miserably inadequate.
Moab defeated by the Amorites sees them in turn
vanquished and scattered by this host which has
Balaam was now brought into the field of Zophim,
or the Watchers, to the "top of Pisgah," whence he
could see only a part of the camp of Israel. The
Hebrew here as well as in xxii. 41 is ambiguous.
It has even been interpreted as meaning that on the
first occasion part of the encampment only was in
view, and on the second occasion the whole of it
(so Keil in loco). But the tenor of the narrative
corresponds better with the translation given in the
English Version. The precise spot here called the
top of Pisgah has not been identified. In the opinion
At Balaam's request the same arrangements were made as at Bamoth-Baal. Seven altars were built, and seven bullocks and seven rams were offered; and again the diviner withdrew to some distance to seek omens. This time his meeting with Jehovah gave him a more emphatic message. It would seem that with the passing of the day's incidents the vatic fire in his mind burned more brightly. Instead of endeavouring to conciliate Balak he appears to take delight in the oracle that dashes the hopes of Moab to the ground. He has looked from the new point of vision and seen the great future that awaits Israel. It is vain to expect that the decree of the Almighty One can be revoked. Balak must hear all that the spirit of Elohim has given to the seer.
The confirmation of the first oracle by what Balaam
has realised on his second approach to Jehovah compels
the question which rebukes the king's vain desire.
"Hath He said, and shall He not do it?" Balak
did not know Jehovah as Balaam knew Him. This
God never went back from His decision, nor recalled
His promises. And He is able to do whatever He
wills. Not only does He refuse to curse Israel, but
He has given a blessing which Balaam even, powerful
as he is, cannot possibly hinder. It has become
manifest that the judgment of God on His people's
conduct is in no respect adverse. Reviewing their
past, the diviner may have found such failure from the
covenant as would give cause for a decision against
them, partial at least, if not general. But there is no
excuse for supposing that Jehovah has turned against
Singular is it to find a diviner like Balaam noting as one of the great distinctions of Israel that the nation used neither augury nor divination. The hollowness of his own arts in presence of the God of Israel who could not be moved by them, who gave His people hope without them, would seem to have impressed Balaam profoundly. He speaks almost as if in contempt of the devices he himself employs. Indeed, he sees that his art is not art at all, as regards Israel. The Hebrews trust no omens; and either for or against them omens give no sign. It was another mark of the separateness of Israel. Jehovah had fenced His people from the spells of the magician. True to Him, they could defy all the sorcery of the East. And when the time for further endeavour came, the nations around should have to hear of the God who had brought the Hebrew tribes out of Egypt. With a lion-like vigour they would rise from their lair by the Jordan. The Canaanites and Amorites beyond should be their prey. Already perhaps tidings had come of the defeat of Bashan: the cities on the other side Jordan should fall in their turn.
As yet there is nothing in the predictions of Balaam
that can be said to point distinctly to any future event
in Israel's history. The oracles are of that general
kind which might be expected from a man of the world
It has been seen by one philosopher that if the
religious sanction be taken away from morality some
other must be provided to fill up the vacuum. Further,
it may be said that if the religious support and stimulus
of human energy be withdrawn there will be a greater
vacuum more difficult to fill. The would-be benefactors
Balaams enough there are, after a sort, with more
or less penetration and sincerity. But what the peoples
need is a Moses to revive their faith. The hollow
maledictions and blessings that are now launched
incessantly from valley to hill, from hill to valley, would
The second oracle produced in the mind of Balak an effect of bewilderment, not of complete discomfiture. He appears to be caught so far in the afflatus that he must hear all the prophet has to tell. He desires Balaam neither to curse nor bless; neutrality would be something. Yet, with all he has already heard giving clear indication what more is to be expected, he proposes another place, another trial of the auguries. This time the whole of Israel shall again be seen. The top of Peor that looketh down upon Jeshimon, or the desert, is chosen. On this occasion when the altars and sacrifices are prepared the order is not the same as before. The diviner does not retire to a distance to seek for omens. He makes no profession of mystery now. The temperature of thought and feeling is high, for the spot on which the company gathers is almost within range of the sentinels of Israel. The adventure is surely one of the strangest which the East ever witnessed. In the dramatic unfolding of it the actors and spectators are alike absorbed.
The third prophetic chant repeats several of the
expressions contained in the second, and adds little;
but it is more poetical in form. The prophet standing
on the height saw "immediately below him the vast
Thus in the consciousness of an exalted state of mind
which has come with unusual symptoms, the ecstasy that
overpowers and brings visions before the inward eye,
he vaunts his inspiration. There is no small resemblance
to the manner in which the afflatus came to seers
of Israel in after-times; yet the description points
more distinctly to the rapture of one like King Saul,
who has been swept by some temporary enthusiasm
into a strain of thought, an emotional atmosphere,
beyond ordinary experience. The far-reaching encampment
is first poetically described, with images
that point to perennial vitality and strength. Then
So strongly is Israel established in the favour of Shaddai, the Almighty One, that attempts to injure her will surely recoil on the head of the aggressor. And on the other hand, to help Israel, to bid her God-speed, will be a way to blessedness. Jehovah will make the overflowing of His grace descend like rain on those who take Israel's part and cheer her on her way.
In the light of what afterwards took place, it is clear
that Balaam was in this last ejaculation carried far beyond
himself. He may have seen for a moment, in the
flash of a heavenly light, the high distinction to which
Israel was advancing. He certainly felt that to curse
her would be perilous, to bless her meritorious. But
the thought, like others of a more spiritual nature,
did not enter deeply into his mind. Balaam could
utter it with a kind of strenuous cordiality, and then
do his utmost to falsify his own prediction. What
matter fine emotions and noble protestations if they
are only momentary and superficial? Balak's open
jealousy and hatred of Israel were, after all, more complimentary
to her than the high-sounding praises of
The earlier deliverances of Balaam had disappointed
the king of Moab; the third kindled his anger. It
The opening was again a vaunt of his high authority as a seer, one who knew the knowledge of Shaddai. Then, with ambiguous forms of speech covering the indistinctness of his outlook, he spoke of one whom he saw far away, in imagination, not reality, a personage bright and powerful, who should rise star-like out of Jacob, bearing the sceptre of Israel, who should smite through the corners of Moab and break down the sons of tumult. Over Edom and Seir he should triumph, and his dominion should extend to the city which had become the last refuge of a hostile people. Of spiritual power and right there is not a trace in this prediction. It is unquestionably the military vigour of Israel gathered up into the headship of some powerful king Balaam sees on the horizon of his field of view. But he anticipates with no uncertainty that Moab shall be attacked and broken, and that the victorious leader shall even penetrate to the fastnesses of Edom and reduce them. A people like Israel, with so great vitality, would not be content to have jealous enemies upon its very borders, and Balak is urged to regard them with more hatred and fear than he has yet shown.
The view that this prophecy "finds its preliminary
In Balaam's vision small nations with which he
Balaam, we are told, "rose up and returned to his
own place"; and from this it would seem that with
bitterness in his heart he betook himself to Pethor.
If he did so, vainly hoping still that Israel would
appeal to him, he soon returned to give Balak and
the Midianites advice of the most nefarious kind.
We learn from xxxi. 16, that through his counsel
the Midianite women caused the children of Israel to
The tribes were still in the plain of Jordan; and we
may suppose that the victorious troops had returned
from the campaign against Bashan, when a band of
Midianites, professing the utmost friendliness, gradually
introduced themselves into the camp. Then began the
temptation to which the Midianitish women, some of
them of high rank, willingly devoted themselves. It
was to impurity and idolatry, to degradation of manhood
in body and soul, to abjuration at once of faith
and of all that makes individual and social life. The
orgies with which the Midianites were familiar belonged
to the dark side of a nature-cultus which
carried the distinction between male and female into
The narrative of the "Priests' Code," beginning at
ver. 6, and going on to the close of the chapter, adds
details of the sin and its punishment. Assuming that
the row of stakes with their ghastly burden is in full
view, and the dead bodies of those slain by the executioners
The question may be put, whether this is not
justice of too rude and ready a kind to be praised in
the name of religion. To some it may seem that the
honour of God could not be served by the deed attributed
to Phinehas; that he acted in passion rather
than in the calm deliberation without which justice
cannot be dealt out by man to man. Would not this
excuse the passionate action of a crowd, impatient of
the forms of law, that hurries an offender to the nearest
tree or lamp-post? And the answer cannot be that
It is not necessary now to slay an offender in order
clearly and emphatically to condemn his crime. In that
respect modern circumstances differ from those we are
discussing. Upon Israel, as it was at the time of this
tragedy, no impression could have been made deep and
swift enough for the occasion otherwise than by the act
of Phinehas. But for an offender of the same rank now,
there is a punishment as stern as death, and on the
popular mind it produces a far greater effect—publicity,
and the reprobation of all who love their fellowmen and
God. The act of Phinehas was not assassination; a
similar act now would be, and it would have to be
dealt with as a crime. The stroke now is inflicted by
public accusation, which results in public trial and
public condemnation. From the time to which the
narrative refers, on to our own day, social conditions
have been passing through many phases. Occasionally
there have been circumstances in which the swift judgment
of righteous indignation was justifiable, though it
did seem like assassination. And in no case has such
action been more excusable than when the purity of
family life has been invaded, while the law of the land
would not interfere. We do not greatly wonder that
in France the avenging of infidelity is condoned when
the sufferer snatches a justice otherwise unattainable.
That is not indeed to be praised, but the imperfection
of law is a partial apology. The higher the standard
of public morality the less needful is this venture on
the Divine right to kill. And certainly it is not private
It is confidently affirmed by Wellhausen that the
"Priestly Code" makes the cultus the principal thing,
and this, he says, implies retrogression from the earlier
idea. The passage we are considering, like many
others ascribed to the "Priests' Code," makes something
else than the cultus the principal thing. We are
told that in the teaching of this code "the bond between
cultus and sensuality is severed; no danger can
arise of an admixture of impure, immoral elements, a
danger which was always present in Hebrew antiquity."
But here the danger is admitted, the cultus is entirely
out of sight, and the sin of sensuality is conspicuous.
When Phinehas intervenes, moreover, it is not in
harmony with any statute or principle laid down in the
"Priests' Code"—rather, indeed, against its general
spirit, which would prohibit an Aaronite from a deed
of blood. According to the whole tenor of the law
the priesthood had its duties, carefully prescribed,
by doing which faithfulness was to be shown. Here
an act of spontaneous zeal, done not "on the positive
command of a will outside," but on the impulse
arising out of a fresh occasion, Wellhausen, "Prolegomena," p. 424.
In the closing verses of the chapter another question of a moral nature is involved. It is recorded that after the events we have considered Jehovah spake unto Moses, saying, "Vex the Midianites, and smite them; for they vex you with their wiles, wherewith they have beguiled you in the matter of Peor, and in the matter of Cozbi, the daughter of the prince of Midian, their sister, which was slain on the day of the plague in the matter of Peor." Now is it for the sake of themselves and their own safety the Israelites are to smite Midian? Is retaliation commanded? Does God set enmity between the one people and the other, and so doing make confession that Israel has no duty of forgiveness, no mission to convert and save?
There is difficulty in pronouncing judgment as to
the point of view taken by the narrator. Some will
maintain that the historian here, whoever he was,
had no higher conception of the command than that
it was one which sanctioned revenge. And there
is nothing on the face of the narrative which can be
brought forward to disprove the charge. Yet it must
be remembered that the history proceeds on the
theocratic conception of Israel's place and destiny.
To the writer Israel is of less account in itself than
as a people rescued from Egypt and called to nationality
in order to serve Jehovah. The whole tenor of the
"Priests' Code" narrative as well as of the other
And Jehovah is not revengeful, but just. The vindication of morality at the time the Book of Numbers deals with, and long afterwards, could only be through the suppression of those who were identified with dangerous forms of vice. The forces at command in Israel were not equal to the task of converting; and what could be achieved was commanded—opposition, enmity; if need were, exterminating war. The better people has a certain spiritual capacity, but not enough to make it fit for what may be called moral missionary work. It would suffer more than it would gain if it entered on any kind of intercourse with Midian with the view of raising the standard of thought and life. All that can be expected meanwhile is that the Israelites shall be at issue with a people so degraded; they are to be against the Midianites, keep them from power in the world, subject them by the sword.
Our judgment, then, is that the narrative sustains
a true theocracy in this sense, exhibits Israel as a
unique phenomenon in human history, not impossible,—there
lies the clear veracity of the Bible accounts,—but
playing a part such as the times allowed, such as
the world required. From a passage like that now
The end of Balaam's life may be glanced at before
the pages close that refer to his career. In xxxi. 8,
it is stated that in the battle which went against
the Midianites Balaam was slain. We do not know
whether he was so maddened by his disappointment
as to take the sword against Jehovah and Israel, or
whether he only joined the army of Midian in his
capacity of augur. F. W. Robertson imagines "the
The death he died was almost too honourable for this
false prophet, unless, indeed, he fell fleeing like a
coward from the battle. One who had recognised the
power of a higher faith than his countrymen professed,
and saw a nation on the way to the vigour that faith
inspired, who in personal spleen and envy set in
operation a scheme of the very worst sort to ruin
Israel, was not an enemy worth the edge of the sword.
Let us suppose that a Hebrew soldier found him in
flight, and with a passing stroke brought him to the
ground. There is no tragedy in such a death; it is too
ignominious. Whatever Balaam was in his boyhood,
whatever he might have been when the cry escaped
him, "Let me die the death of the righteous," selfish
craft had brought him below the level of the manhood
of the time. Balak with his pathetic faith in cursing
and incantation now seems a prince beside the augur.
For Balaam, though he knew Jehovah after a manner,
had no religion, had only the envy of the religion of
others. He came on the stage with an air that almost
Nothing is to be won without energy, courage, unity,
wise preparation and adjustment of means to ends.
True, the battle is the Lord's, and He can give victory
to the few over the many, to the feeble over the strong.
But not even in the case of Israel are the ordinary laws
Do we ever imagine that the law of endeavour shall
be relaxed for us, either in the physical or in the
spiritual region? Is it supposed that at some point,
when after struggling through the wilderness we have
but a narrow stream between us and the coveted
The second numbering of the people showed that a
new generation filled the ranks. Plagues that swept
away thousands, or the slow, sure election of death,
had taken all who left Egypt excepting a few. It was
the same Israel, yet another. Is, then, the nation of
account, and not the individuals who compose it?
Perhaps the two numberings may be intended to guard
us against this error; at all events, we may take them
so. Man by man, the host was reckoned at Sinai; man
by man it is reckoned again in the plains of Moab.
There were six hundred and three thousand five
The past receding, the future advancing, and God the sole abiding link between them. For us, as for Israel, notwithstanding all our care of the monuments and gains of the past, that is the one sustaining faith; and it is adequate, inspiring. The swift decay of life, the constant flux of humanity, would be our despair if we had not God.
So the "Prayer of Moses the man of God," under the
saddening thought of mortality. But God is "from
everlasting to everlasting," "the dwelling place of His
people in all generations." The life that begins in the
That each life is a fact in the Eternal overflowing
Life, conscious of all—in this there is comfort for us
who are numbered among the millions, with no particular
claim to reminiscence, and aware, at any rate,
that when a few years pass the world will forget us.
In vain the most of us seek a niche in the Valhalla of
the race, or the record of a single line in the history
of our time. Whatever our suffering or achieving,
are we not doomed to oblivion? The grave-yard will
keep our dust, the memorial stone will preserve our
names—but for how long? Until in the evolutions
that are to come the ploughshare of a covetous age
tears up the soil we imagine to be consecrated for ever.
But there is a memory that does not grow old, in
which for good or evil we are enshrined. "We all
live unto God." The Divine consciousness of us is
our strength and hope. It alone keeps the soul from
despair—or, if the life has not been in faith, stings
with a desperate reassurance. Does God remember
The page of Israel's history we are reading preserves many names. It is in outline a genealogy of the tribes. Reuben's sons are Hanoch, Pallu, Hezron, Carmi. The son of Pallu is Eliab. The sons of Eliab are Nemuel, Dathan, and Abiram. And of Dathan and Abiram we are reminded that they strove against Moses and Aaron in the company of Korah; and the earth opened her mouth and swallowed them up. The judgment of evildoers is commemorated. The rest have their praise in this alone, that they held aloof from the sin. Turn to other tribes, Zebulun, Asher, Naphtali, for instance, and in the case of each the names of those who were heads of families are given. In the First Book of Chronicles the genealogy is extended, with various details of settlement and history. In what are we to find the explanation of this attempt to preserve the lineage of families, and the ancestral names? If the progenitors were great men, distinguished by heroism, or by faith, the pride of the descendants might have a show of reason. Or again, if the families had kept the pure Hebrew descent we should be able to understand. But no greatness is assigned to the heads of families, not a single mark of achievement or distinction. And the Israelites did not preserve their purity of race. In Canaan, as we learn from the Book of Judges, they "dwelt among the Canaanites, the Hittite, and the Amorite, and the Perizzite, and the Hivite, and the Jebusite: and they took their daughters to be their wives, and gave their own daughters to their sons, and served their gods" (iii. 5, 6).
The sole reason we can find for these records is
By the computations that survive, a diminished yet
not greatly diminished number of fighting men was
reckoned in the plains of Moab. Some tribes had
fallen away considerably, others had increased, Simeon
notably among the former, Judah and Manasseh among
the latter. The causes of diminution and increase alike
are purely conjectural. Simeon may have been involved
in the sin of Baal-peor more than the others and
suffered proportionately. Yet we cannot suppose that,
on the whole, character had much to do with numerical
strength. Assuming the transgressions of which the
history informs us and the punishments that followed
them, we must believe that the tribes were on much
the same moral plane. In the natural course of things
there would have been a considerable increase in the
numbers of men. The hardships and judgments of
the desert and the defection of some by the way are
general causes of diminution. We have also seen
reason to believe that a proportion, not perhaps very
great, remained at Kadesh, and did not take the journey
round Edom. It is certainly worthy of notice with
regard to Simeon that the final allocation of territory
gave to this tribe the district in which Kadesh was
situated. The small increase of the tribe of Levi is
another fact shown by the second census; and we
remember that Simeon and Levi were brethren (
The numbering in the plains of Moab is connected
in vv. 52-6 with the division of the land among the
tribes. "To the more thou shalt give the more
inheritance, and to the fewer thou shalt give the less
inheritance: to every one according to those that were
numbered of him shall his inheritance be given." The
principle of allocation is obvious and just. No doubt
The twenty-seventh chapter is partly occupied with the details of a case which raised a question of inheritance. Five daughters of one Zelophehad of the tribe of Manasseh appealed to Moses on the ground that they were the representatives of the household, having no brother. Were they to have no possession because they were women? Was the name of their father to be taken away because he had no son? It was not to be supposed that the want of male descendants had been a judgment on their father. He had died in the wilderness, but not as a rebel against Jehovah, like those who were in the company of Korah. He had "died in his own sins." They petitioned for an inheritance among the brethren of their father.
The claim of these women appears natural if the
right of heirship is acknowledged in any sense, with
this reservation, however, that women might not be able
properly to cultivate the land, and could not do much
in the way of defending it. And these, for the time,
The rules of inheritance among an agricultural
people, exposed to hostile incursions, must, like that
of ver. 8, assume the right of sons in preference to
daughters; but under modern social conditions there
are no reasons for any such preference, except indeed
the sentiment of family, and the maintenance of titles
of rank. But the truth is that inheritance, so-called,
is every year becoming of less moral account as compared
with the acquisitions that are made by personal
industry and endeavour. Property is only of value
as it is a means to the enlargement and fortifying of
the individual life. The decision on behalf of the
daughters of Zelophehad was of importance for what
it implied rather than for what it actually gave. It
made possible that dignity and power which we see
illustrated in the career of Deborah, whose position as
a "mother in Israel" does not seem to have depended
The generation that came from Egypt has passed away, and now (xxvii. 12) Moses himself receives his call. He is to ascend the mountain of Abarim and look forth over the land Israel is to inhabit; then he is to be gathered to his people. He is reminded of the sin by which Aaron and he dishonoured God when they failed to sanctify Him at the waters of Meribah. The burden of the Book of Numbers is revealed. The brooding sadness which lies on the whole narrative is not cast by human mortality but by moral transgression and defect. There is judgment for revolt, as of those who followed Korah. There are men who like Zelophehad die "in their own sins," filling up the time allowed to imperfect obedience and faith, the limit of existence that falls short of the glory of God. And Moses, whose life is lengthened that his honourable task may be fully done, must all the more conspicuously pay the penalty of his high misdemeanour. With the goal of Israel's great destiny in view the narrative moves from shadow to shadow. Here and throughout, this is a characteristic of Old Testament history. And the shadows deepen as they rest on lives more capable of noble service, more guilty in their disbelief and defiance of Jehovah.
The rebuke which darkens over Moses at the close
and lies on his grave does not obscure the greatness
of the man; nor have all the criticisms of the history
in which he plays so great a part overclouded his personality.
The opening of Israel's career may not now
seem so marvellous in a sense as once it seemed, nor
And this involves much, both with regard to the
human characteristics and the Divine inspiration of the
founder, much that an after-age would have been utterly
incapable of imagining. When we find a life depicted
in these Pentateuchal narratives, corresponding in all
its features with the place that has to be filled, revealing
one who, under the conditions of Israel's nativity,
might have made a way for it into sustaining faith, it
is not difficult to accept the details in their substance.
The records are certainly not Moses' own. They are
To die, to be gathered to his people—and what then? It is at death we reckon up the account and estimate the value and power of faith. Has it made a man ready for his change, ripened his character, established his work on a foundation as of rock? The command which at Horeb Moses received long ago, and the revelation of God he there enjoyed, have had their opportunity; to what have they come?
The supreme human desire is to know the nature,
to understand the distinctive glory of the Most High.
At the bush Moses had been made aware of the presence
with him of the God of his fathers, the Fear of Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob. His duty also had been made clear.
But the mystery of being was still unsolved. With
sublime daring, therefore, he pursued the inquiry:
"Behold when I come unto the children of Israel, and
shall say unto them, The God of your fathers hath sent
me unto you; and they shall say to me, What is His
name? what shall I say unto them?" The answer
Ideas like these, we must believe, shaped themselves,
if not clearly, at least in dim outline before the mind of
Moses, and made the faith by which he lived. And how
had it proved itself as the stay of endeavour, the
support of a soul under heavy burdens of duty, trial,
and sorrowful consciousness? The reliance it gave
had never failed. In Egypt, before Pharaoh, Moses
had been sustained by it as one who had a sanction for
his demands and actions which no king or priest could
claim. At Sinai it had given spiritual strength and
There can be no doubt that death tested the faith of
Moses as a personal reliance on the Almighty. How
he found sufficient help in the thought of Jehovah when
Aaron died, and when his own call came, we can only
surmise. For him it was a familiar certainty that the
Judge of all the earth did right. His own decision
went with that of Jehovah in every great moral question;
and even when death was involved, however
great a punishment it appeared, however sad a necessity,
he must have said, Good is the will of the Lord. But
there was more than acquiescence. One who had lived
so long with God, finding all the springs and aims of life
in Him, must have known that irresistible power would
carry on what had been begun, would complete to its
highest tower that building of which the foundation had
been laid. Moses had wrought not for self but for God;
he could leave his work in the Divine hand with
absolute assurance that it would be perfected. And as
for his own destiny, his personal life, what shall we
say? Moses had been what he was through the grace
So the personal drama of many acts and scenes
draws to a close with forebodings of the end, and yet
a little respite ere the curtain falls. The music is
solemn as befits the night-fall, yet has a ring of strong
purpose and inexhaustible sufficiency. It is not the
"still sad music of humanity" we hear with the words,
"Get thee up into this mountain of Abarim, and behold
the land which I have given unto the children of Israel.
And when thou hast seen it, thou also shalt be gathered
unto thy people, as Aaron thy brother was gathered."
It is the music of the Voice that awakens life, commands
and inspires it, cheers the strong in endeavour and
soothes the tired to rest. He who speaks is not weary
of Moses, nor does He mean Moses to be weary of his
task. But this change lies in the way of God's strong
purpose, and it is assumed that Moses will neither rebel
nor repine. Far away, in an evolution unforeseen by
man, will come the glorification of One who is the Life
indeed; and in His revelation as the Son of the
Eternal Father Moses will share. With Christ he will
The designation of Joshua, who had long been the minister of Moses, and perhaps for some time administrator of affairs, is recorded in the close of the chapter. The prayer of Moses assumes that by direct commission the fitness of Joshua must be signified to the people. It might be Jehovah's will that, even yet, another should take the headship of the tribes. Moses spake unto the Lord, saying, "Let Jehovah, the God of the spirits of all flesh, appoint a man over the congregation which may go out before them, and which may come in before them, and which may lead them out and which may bring them in; that the congregation of Jehovah be not as sheep which have no shepherd." One who has so long endeavoured to lead, and found it so difficult, whose heart and soul and strength have been devoted to make Israel Jehovah's people, can relax his hold of things without dismay only if he is sure that God will Himself choose and endow the successor. What aimless wandering there would be if the new leader proved incompetent, wanting wisdom or grace! How far about might Israel's way yet be, in another sense than the compassing of Edom! Before the Friend of Israel Moses pours out his prayer for a shepherd fit to lead the flock.
And the oracle confirms the choice to which Providence
has already pointed. Joshua the son of Nun, "a man
in whom is the spirit," is to have the call and receive
the charge. His investiture with official right and
dignity is to be in the sight of Eleazar the priest and
all the congregation. Moses shall put of his own
honour upon Joshua and declare his commission.
"A man in whom is the spirit"—such is the one outstanding personal qualification. "The God of the spirits of all flesh" finds in Joshua the sincere will, the faithful heart. The work that is to be done is not of a spiritual kind, but grim fighting, control of an army and of a people not yet amenable to law, under circumstances that will try a leader's firmness, sagacity, and courage. Yet, even for such a task, allegiance to Jehovah and His purpose regarding Israel, the enthusiasm of faith, high spirit, not experience—these are the commendations of the chief. Qualified thus, Joshua may occasionally make mistakes. His calculations may not always be perfect, nor the means he employs exactly fitted to the end. But his faith will enable him to recover what is momentarily lost; his courage will not fail. Above all, he will be no opportunist guided by the turn of events, yielding to pressure or what may appear necessity. The one principle of faithfulness to Jehovah will keep him and Israel in a path which must be followed even if success in a worldly sense be not immediately found.
The priest who inquires of the Lord by Urim has a
higher place under Joshua's administration than under
that of Moses. The theocracy will henceforth have
a twofold manifestation, less of unity than before. And
here the change is of a kind which may involve the
gravest consequences. The simple statement of ver. 12
It may appear to some absolutely necessary to refer
the Urim to a far later date. The explanation given
by Ewald, that the inquiry was always by some definite
question, and that the answer was found by means of
the lot, obviates this difficulty. "Antiquities of Israel:" "The Priesthood."
Moses laid his hands on Joshua and gave him his charge. As one who knew his own infirmities, he could warn the new chief of the temptations he would have to resist, the patience he would have to exercise. It was not necessary to inform Joshua of the duties of his office. With these he had become familiar. But the need for calm and sober judgment required to be impressed upon him. It was here he was defective, and here that his "honour" and the maintenance of his authority would have to be secured. Deuteronomy mentions only the exhortation Moses gave to be strong and of a good courage, and the assurance that Jehovah would go before Joshua, would neither fail him nor forsake him. But though much is recorded, much also remains untold. An education of forty years had prepared Joshua for the hour of his investiture. Yet the words of the chief he was so soon to lose must have had no small part in preparing him for the burden and duty which he was now called by Jehovah to sustain as leader of Israel.
The legislation of chapters xxviii.-xxx. appears to belong to a time of developed ritual and organised society. Parallel passages in Exodus and Leviticus treating of the feasts and offerings are by no means so full in their details, nor do they even mention some of the sacrifices here made statutory. The observances of New Moon are enjoined in the Book of Numbers alone. In chapter xv. they are simply noticed; here the order is fixed. The purpose of chapters xxviii., xxix. is especially to prescribe the number of animals that are to be offered throughout the year at a central altar, and the quantities of other oblations which are to accompany them. But the rotation of feasts is also given in a more connected way than elsewhere; we have, in fact, a legislative description of Israel's Sacred Year. Daily, weekly, monthly, and at the two great festal seasons, Jehovah is to be acknowledged by the people as the Redeemer of life, the Giver of wealth and blessedness. Of their cattle and sheep, and the produce of the land, they are to bring continual oblations, which are to be their memorial before Him. By their homage and by their gladness, by afflicting themselves and by praising God, they shall realise their calling as His people.
The section regarding vows (ch. xxx.) completes
In these sacrifices the whole of time, measured out by
the alternation of light and darkness, was acknowledged
to be God's; through the priesthood the nation declared
His right to each day, confessed obligation to Him for
the gift of it. The burnt offering implied complete
In the Psalms and elsewhere we find traces of a
worship which had its source in the daily sacrifice. The
author of
Less clearly in the fifth, the fifty-ninth, and the eighty-eighth psalms, the morning prayer appears to be connected with the morning sacrifice:
The pious Hebrew might naturally choose the morning
The grateful remembrance of God and confession of His right to the whole of life were thus made a rule with which no other engagements were allowed to interfere. It is by facts like these the power of religion over the Hebrews in their best time is explained.
We pass now to the Sabbath and the sacrifices by
which it was distinguished. Here the number seven
which recurs so frequently in the statutes of the sacred
year appears for the first time. Connection has been
found between the ordinances of Israel and of Chaldea
in the observance of the seventh day as well as at
many other points. According to Mr. Sayce, the
origin of the Sabbath went back to pre-Semitic days,
and the very name was of Babylonian origin. "In the
cuneiform tablets the sabbatu is described as a 'day of
rest for the soul.'... The Sabbath was also known,
at all events in Accadian times, as a dies nefastus, a
But while the days of the Chaldean week were
devoted each to a separate divinity, and the seventh
day had its meaning in relation to polytheism, the
whole of time, every day alike, and the Sabbaths with
greater strictness than the others, were, in Israel's law,
consecrated to Jehovah. This difference also deserves
to be noticed, that, while the Chaldean seventh days
were counted from each new moon, in the Hebrew
year there was no such astronomical date for reckoning
them. Throughout the year, as with us, each
seventh day was a day of rest. While we find traces
of old religious custom and observance that mingled
with those of Judaism and cannot but recognise
the highly humane, almost spiritual character those
old institutions often had, the superiority of the religion
of the One Living and True God clearly proves itself
to us. Moses, and those who followed him, felt no
need of rejecting an idea they met with in the ancient
beliefs of Chaldea, for they had the Divine light
and wisdom by which the earthly and evil could be
The special oblations to be presented on the Sabbath
were added to those of the other days of the week.
Two lambs of the first year in the morning and two
in the evening were to be offered with their appropriate
meal and drink offerings. It may be noted that in
Ezekiel where the Sabbath ordinances are detailed
the sacrifices are more numerous. After declaring that
the eastern gate of the inner court of the temple,
which is to be shut on the six working days, shall
be opened on the Sabbath and in the day of the new
moon, the prophet goes on to say that the prince, as
representing the people, shall offer unto the Lord in
the Sabbath day six lambs without blemish and a ram
without blemish. In the legislation of Numbers, however,
the higher consecration of the Sabbath as compared
with the other days of the week did not require
so great a difference as Ezekiel saw it needful to make.
And, indeed, the law of Sabbath observance assumes
We find as we go on that the week of seven days, ended by the recurring day of rest, is an element in the regulations for all the great feasts. Unleavened bread was to be eaten for seven days. Seven weeks were then to be counted to the day of the firstfruits and the feast of weeks. The feast of tabernacles, again, ran for seven days and ended on the eighth with a solemn assembly. The whole ritual was in this way made to emphasise the division of time based on the fourth commandment.
The New Moon ritual consecrating the months was
more elaborate. On the day when the new moon was
first seen, or should by computation be seen, besides
the continual burnt offering two young bullocks, one
ram, and seven lambs of the first year, with meal and
drink offerings, were to be presented. These animals
were to be wholly offered by fire. In addition, a sin
offering was to be made, a kid of the goats. Why this
guilt sacrifice was introduced at the new moon service
is not clear. Keil explains that "in consideration of
the sins which had been committed in the course of the
past month, and had remained without expiation," the
sin offering was needed. But this might be said of
There are good reasons for believing that in pre-Mosaic
times the day of new moon was celebrated by
the Israelites and all kindred peoples, as it is still
among certain heathen races. Originally a nature
festival, it was consecrated to Jehovah by the legislation
before us, and gradually became of account as the
occasion of domestic gatherings and rejoicings. But
its religious significance lay chiefly in the dedication to
We come now to the great annual festivals. These were arranged in two groups, which may be classed as vernal and autumnal, the one group belonging to the first and third months, the other to the seventh. They divided the year into two portions, the intervals between them being the time of great heat and the time of rain and storm. The month Abib, with which the year began, corresponded generally to our April; but its opening, depending on the new moon, might be earlier or later. One of the ceremonies of the festival season of this month was the presentation, on the sixteenth day, of the first sheaf of harvest; and seven weeks afterwards, at Pentecost, cakes made from the first dough were offered. The explanation of what may appear to be autumnal offerings in spring is to be found in the early ripening of corn throughout Palestine. The cereals were all reaped during the interval between Passover and Pentecost. The autumnal festival celebrated the gathering in of the vintage and fruits.
The Passover, the first great feast, a sacrament
rather, is merely mentioned in this portion of Numbers.
It was chiefly a domestic celebration—not priestly—and
had a most impressive significance, of which the
eating of the lamb with bitter herbs was the symbol.
The day after it, the "feast of unleavened bread"
began. For a whole week leaven was to be abjured.
On the first day of the feast there was to be a holy
convocation, and no servile work was to be done. The
closing day likewise was to be one of holy convocation.
On each of the seven days the offerings were to be two
young bullocks, one ram, and seven yearling he-lambs,
The week of this festival, commencing with the
paschal sacrament, was made to bear peculiarly on the
national life, first by the command that all leaven
should be rigidly kept out of the houses. As the
ceremonial law assumed more importance with the
growth of Pharisaism, this cleansing was sought quite
fanatically. Any crumb of common bread was reckoned
an accursed thing which might deprive the observance
of the feast of its good effect. But even in the time
of less scrupulous legalism the effort to extirpate leaven
from the houses had its singular effect on the people.
It was one of the many causes which made Jewish
religion intense. Then the daily sacrificial routine, and
especially the holy convocations of the first and seventh
days, were profoundly solemnising. We may picture
thus the ceremonies and worship of these great days
of the feast. The people, gathered from all parts of the
land, crowded the outer court of the sanctuary. The
priests and Levites stood ready around the altar.
With solemn chanting the animals were brought from
some place behind the temple where they had been
carefully examined so that no blemish might impair the
sacrifice. Then they were slain one by one, and
prepared, the fire on the great altar blazing more and
more brightly in readiness for the holocaust, while the
blood flowed away in a red stream, staining the hands
and garments of those who officiated. First the two
bullocks, then the ram, then the lambs were one after
another placed on the flames, each with incense and
part of the meal offering. The sin offering followed.
Some of the blood of the he-goat was taken by the
priest and sprinkled on the inner altar, on the veil of
To this followed in the later times singing of chants
and psalms, led by the chorus of Levites, addresses to
the people, and shorter or longer prayers to which
the worshippers responded. The officiating priest,
standing beside the great altar in view of all, now
pronounced the appointed blessing on the people.
But his task was still not complete. He went into the
sanctuary, and, having by his entrance and safe return
from the holy place shown that the sacrifice had been
accepted, he spoke to the assembly a few words of
simple and sublime import. Finally, with repeated
blessing, he gave the dismissal. On one or both of
these occasions the form of benediction used was that
which we have found preserved in the sixth chapter of
this book. See Ewald's "Antiquities," p. 131, Solly's translation.
It is evident that celebrations like these, into which,
as time went on, the mass of worshippers entered with
increased fervour, gave the feast of unleavened bread
an extraordinary importance in the national life. The
young Hebrew looked forward to it with the keenest
expectancy, and was not disappointed. So long as
faith remained, and especially in crises of the history
of Israel, the earnestness that was developed carried
every soul along. And now that the Israelites bewail
the loss of temple and country, reckoning themselves a
"The day of the firstfruits" was, according to
From the festivals of spring we now pass to those of autumn, the first of which coincided with the New Moon of the seventh month. This was to be a day of holy convocation, on which no servile work should be done, and it was marked by a special blowing of trumpets over the sacrifices. From other passages it would appear that the trumpets were used on the occasion of every new moon; and there must have been a longer and more elaborate service of festival music to distinguish the seventh. The offerings prescribed for it were numerous. Those enjoined for the opening of the other months were two bullocks, one ram, seven he-lambs and the he-goat of the sin offering. To these were now added one bullock, one ram, and seven he-lambs. Altogether, including the daily sacrifices which were never omitted, twenty-two animals were offered; and with each sacrifice, except the he-goat, fine flour mingled with oil and a drink offering of wine had to be presented.
There seems no reason to doubt that the seventh month was opened in this impressive way because of the great festivals ordained to be held in the course of it. The labour of the year was practically over, and more than any other the month was given up to festivity associated with religion. It was the seventh or sabbath month, forming the "exalted summit of the year, for which all preceding festivals prepared the way, and after which everything quietly came down to the ordinary course of life." The trumpets blown in joyful peals over the sacrifices, the offering of which must have gone on for many hours, inspired the assembly with gladness, and signified the gratitude and hope of the nation.
But the joy of the seventh month thus begun did
not go on without interruption. The tenth day was
one of special solemnity and serious thought. It was
the great day of confession, for on it, in the holy
convocation, the people were to "afflict their souls."
The transgressions and failures of the year were to be
acknowledged with sorrow. From the evening of the
ninth day to the evening of the tenth there was to be
a rigid fast—the one fast which the law ordained.
Before the full gladness of Jehovah's favour can be
realised by Israel all those sins of neglect and forgetfulness
which have been accumulating for twelve months
must be confessed, bewailed, and taken away. There
are those who have become unclean without being
aware of their defilement; those who have unwittingly
broken the Sabbath law; those who have for some
reason been unable to keep the passover, or who have
kept it imperfectly; others again have failed to render
tithes of all the produce of their land according to the
law; and priests and Levites called to a high consecration
For this day the whole offerings are, one young bullock, one ram, seven he-lambs; and there is this peculiarity, that, besides a he-goat for a sin offering, there is to be provided another he-goat, "for atonement." Maimonides says that the second he-goat is not that "for Azazel," but the fellow of it, the one on which the lot had fallen "for Jehovah." Leviticus again informs us that Aaron was to sacrifice a bullock as a sin offering for himself and his house. And it was the blood of this bullock and of the second he-goat he was to take and sprinkle on the ark and before the mercy-seat. Further, it is prescribed that the bodies of these animals are to be carried forth without the camp and wholly burned—as if the sin clinging to them had made them unfit for use in any way.
The great atonement thus made, the reaction of
joy set in. Nothing in Jewish worship exceeded the
solemnity of the fast, and in contrast with that the
gladness of the forgiven multitude. Another crisis was
past, another year of Jehovah's favour had begun.
Those who had been prostrate in sorrow and fear rose
up to sing their hallelujahs. "The deep seriousness
of the Day of Atonement," says Delitzsch, "was transformed
on the evening of the same day into lighthearted
merriment. The observance in the temple
was accomplished in a significant drama which was
fascinating from beginning to end. When the high
priest came forth from the Most Holy Place, after the
performance of his functions there, this was for the Expositor, 3rd Series, vol. iv., p. 88.
This description reminds us of the mingling of elements in the old Scottish fast-days, closing as they did with a simple entertainment in the manse.
The feast of tabernacles continued the gladness of the ransomed people. It began on the fifteenth day of the seventh month, with a holy convocation and a holocaust of no fewer than twenty-nine animals, in addition to the daily sacrifice, and a he-goat for a sin offering. The number of bullocks, which was thirteen on this opening day of the feast, was reduced by one each day till on the seventh day seven bullocks were sacrificed. But two rams and fourteen he-lambs were offered each day of the feast, and the he-goat for expiation, besides the continual burnt offering. The celebration ended, so far as sacrifices were concerned, on the eighth day with a special burnt offering of one bullock, one ram, and seven he-lambs, returning thus to the number appointed for New Moon.
It will be noticed that on the closing day there was
to be a "solemn assembly." It was "the great day of
the feast" (
The series of sacrifices appointed for days and weeks
and months and years required a large number of
animals and no small liberality. They did not, however,
represent more than a small proportion of the
offerings which were brought to the central sanctuary.
Besides, there were those connected with vows, the
free-will offerings, meal offerings, drink offerings, and
peace offerings (xxix. 39). And taking all together it
will be seen that the pastoral wealth of the people was
largely claimed. The explanation lies partly in this,
that among the Israelites, as among all races, "the
things sacrificed were of the same kind as those the
worshippers desired to obtain from God." The sin
offering, however, had quite a different significance.
In this the sprinkling of the warm blood, representing
the life blood of the worshipper, carried thought into
a range of sacred mystery in which the awful claim
of God on men was darkly realised. Here sacrifice
became a sacrament binding the worshippers by the
most solemn symbol imaginable—a vital symbol—to
fidelity in the service of Jehovah. Their faith and
devotion expressed in the sacrifice secured for them
the Divine grace on which their well-being depended,
the blood-bought pardon that redeemed the soul.
Among the Israelites alone was expiation by blood
made fully significant as the centre of the whole system
of worship. Ewald's "Antiquities," p. 40.
With regard to vows and oaths the sophistry of the
Jews and their rabbis led them so far astray that our
Lord had to lay down new rules for the guidance of
His followers. No doubt cases arose in which it was
exceedingly difficult to decide. One might vow with
good intention and find himself utterly unable to keep
his promise, or might find that to keep it would involve
unforeseen injury to others. But apart from circumstances
of this sort there came to be such a net-work
of half-legalised evasions, and so many unseemly discussions,
that the purpose of the law was destroyed.
Absolution from vows was claimed as a prerogative
by some rabbis; against this, others protested. One
would say that if a man vowed by Jerusalem or by the
Law he had said nothing; but if he vowed by what is
written in the Law, his words stood. The "wise men"
declared four kinds of vows not binding—incentive
With regard to women's vows, four cases are made
the subject of enactment. First, there is the case of a
young woman living in her father's house, under his
authority. If she vow unto the Lord, and bind herself
by a bond in the hearing of her father and he do not
forbid, her vow shall stand. It may involve expense
to the father, or put him and the family to inconvenience,
but by silence he has allowed himself to be
bound. On the other hand, if he interpose and forbid
the vow, the daughter is released. The second case is
These regulations establish the headship of the father and the husband in regard to matters which belong to religion. And the significance of them lies in this, that no intrusion of the priest is permitted. If the "Priests' Code" had been intended to set up a hierocracy, these vows would have given the opportunity of introducing priestly influence into family life. The provisions appear to be designed for the very purpose of disallowing this. It was seen that in the ardour of religious zeal women were disposed to make large promises, dedicating their means, their children, or perhaps their own lives to special service in connection with the sanctuary. But the father or husband was the family head and the judge. No countenance whatever is given to any official interference.
It would have been well if the wisdom of this law
had ruled the Church, preventing ecclesiastical dominance
in family affairs. The promises, the threats of a
domineering Church have in many cases introduced
discord between daughters and parents, wives and
husbands. The amenability of women to religious
The details of the enterprise are given somewhat
fully. A thousand fighting men are called from each
tribe. The religious purpose of the war is signified by
the presence in the host of Phinehas, whose zeal has
given him a name among the warriors. He is allowed
to carry with him the "vessels of the sanctuary"; and
the silver trumpets are to be sounded on the march
and in the attack. The Midianitish clan apparently
gives way at once before the Hebrews, and either
makes no stand or is totally defeated in a single battle.
The purification of those who have been engaged in the war is next commanded. For seven days the army must remain outside the camp. Those who have touched any dead body and all the captives are to be ceremonially cleansed on the third and seventh days. Every article of raiment, everything made of skins and goats' hair, and all woollen articles, are to be purified by means of the water of expiation. Whatever is made of metal is to be passed through the fire.
Details of the quantity and division of the prey, and
the voluntary oblations made as an "atonement for
their souls" by the officers and soldiers out of their
booty, occupy the rest of the chapter. The numbers of
oxen, sheep, and asses are great—six hundred and
seventy-five thousand sheep, seventy-two thousand
beeves, sixty-one thousand asses. No mention is made
of horses or camels. The girls saved alive are thirty-two
thousand. The army takes one half, and those
who remained in the camp receive the other. But of
the soldiers' portion, one in five hundred both of the
persons and of the animals is given to the priests, and
of the people's portion one in fifty to the Levites. The
Now here we have to deal with an accumulation of statements, every one of which raises some question or other. The war of national and moral antipathy is itself easily understood. But the slaughter of so many in battle and so many others in cold blood, the statement that not a single Israelite fell, the number and kinds of the animals captured, the order given by Moses to put all the women to death, the quantity of gold taken, of which the offering appears only to have been a part—all of these points have been criticised in a more or less incredulous spirit. In apology it has been said, with regard to the slaughter of the women, that when brought as captives by the soldiers they could not be received into the camp, and there was only this way of dealing with them, unless indeed they had been sent back to their ruined encampments, where they would have slowly died. Again, it has been explained that the Midianites were so debased and enfeebled as to have no power to withstand the onset of the Hebrews. The droves of oxen, sheep, and asses are held to be not greater than a wealthy nomadic clan, numbering perhaps two hundred thousand, would be likely to own; and the quantity of gold is likewise accounted for by the well-known fact that among Orientals the wealth represented by precious metals is fashioned into ornaments for the women.
In detail the difficulties may thus be partly overcome; yet the whole account remains so singular, both in its spirit and incidents, that Wellhausen has roundly declared it to be fictitious, and others have had no resource but to fall back, even for the slaughter of the women, on the Divine command. It is true there were other peoples, the Moabites, for instance, as idolatrous, and almost as degraded. But a terror of Jehovah's name had to be created for the moral good of the whole region, and the Midianites, it is said, who had so grossly assailed the purity of Israel, were fitly selected for Divine chastisement. The opinion that the whole account is an invention of the "Priests' Code" may be at once dismissed. The ideas of national purity that prevailed after the exile and are insisted upon in the books of Ezra and Nehemiah would not have countenanced the dedication of any spared from the slaughter, even young girls, as a tribute to Jehovah. The attack and the issue of it were, no doubt, recorded in the ancient documents of which the compilers of the Book of Numbers made use. And the fact must be held to stand, that there was a grim slaughter relentlessly carried out at the command of Moses in accordance with the moral and theocratic ideas that ruled his mind.
But it remains doubtful whether the numbers can
be trusted, even although they appear to be in the
substance of the narrative. The disproportion is
enormous between the twelve thousand Israelites sent
against Midian and the number of men who, if we
accept the figures given, must have fallen without
striking one effective blow for their lives. Of these
there would have been some forty thousand at least.
Assuming that somehow the numbers are exaggerated,
we find the story a good deal cleared. It was entirely
The appropriation of some of the captive girls to the priests and Levites as "Jehovah's tribute," the offering by the soldiers of part of their booty as an "atonement" for their souls, the presence of Phinehas with the "vessels of the sanctuary," and the sacred trumpets in the ranks—these manifestly belong to the time to which the history refers. And it may be said in closing that circumstances might be well known to Moses on account of which the attack had to be made promptly and the dispersion of the Midianites had to be complete. We cannot tell what Balaam may have been plotting; but we may be pretty sure there was nothing too base for him to scheme and the Midianites to carry into effect. They knew themselves to be under suspicion, perhaps in danger. With what craft and vehemence the Bedawin can act we are well aware. Life even yet is of no account among them. Another day, perhaps, and the ark might have been carried off or Moses put to death in his tent. But the nature of the wrong done to Israel is a sufficient explanation of the war. And we can also see that the Hebrews themselves had a lesson in moral severity when their soldiers went forth to the massacre and returned red with blood. They learned that the sin of Midian was abominable in the sight of God and should be abominable in theirs. They were taught, whether they received the teaching or not, that they were to be enemies for ever of those who practised idolatry so vile. A deep gulf was made between them and all who sympathised with the worship and customs of the tribe they destroyed.
And the whole circumstances, remote as they are from our own time, may bring home even to Christians the duty of moral decision and relentless war against the vices and lusts with which too many are inclined to make terms. We wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against the "wiles of error," the "lusts of deceit," against "fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, enmities, strife, jealousies, wraths, factions, divisions, heresies, envyings, drunkenness, revellings and such like,"—the works of the flesh. These Midianites are with us, would draw our hearts away from religion and destroy our souls. Not only are we to assail the grosser forms of sin and exterminate them, but we are with equal severity to strike down the fair-seeming vices that come with blandishment and insidious appeal. This is our holy war. The old form of it required the suppression or extermination of those identified with vice, men and women, all in whom the impurity was rooted. Young girls alone could be spared, whose character might still be shaped by a higher morality. Even yet, to a certain extent, that way of dealing with evil has to be followed. We imprison felons and put murderers to death; but the new power that has come with Christianity enables us to deal with many transgressors as capable of reformation and a new life. And this power is far as yet from being fully developed.
It is the fault of our age to be on one side too
lenient, on another wanting in patience, charity, and
hope. Excuses are found for sin on the ground that
it is useless to fight against nature, that we must not
be hypocritical nor puritanical. Temptations that come
with mincing gait, cajolery and smiles, are allowed to
disport themselves untouched. Why, it is asked, should
Without hypocrisy, without banishing the sunshine
of life or denying the freedom which is necessary to
progress and vigour, we are to be jealous for morality,
severe against all that threatens it. And here our
age is impatient of direction. The tendency is to a
civilisation without morality, that is, a new barbarism.
The strenuous mind of the old theocratic leaders is
required anew, with a difference. Life and thought
have so far advanced under Christianity that liberty
is good in things which once had to be sternly reprobated;
but only the same guidance will carry us higher.
To those who lead in arts and literature the appeal
has to be made in the name of God and men to regard
the fitness of things. The old ideas of Puritanism are
not to be the standard? True. Neither are the tastes
of Greece nor the manners of Pompeii. Every artist
must, it appears, be his own censor. Let each, then,
use his right under a sense of responsibility to the
God who would have all to be pure and free. There
are pictures exhibited, and poems sent out from the
press, and novels published, which, for all the skill and
charm that are in them, ought to have been cast into
On the other hand, charity and patience are needed. It is difficult to forbear with those who seem to find their pleasure in what is evil, more difficult to continue the efforts necessary to win them to religion, purity, and honour. We feel it a hard task to track our own unholy desires to their retreats and slay them there. Proteus-like they elude us; when we think they have been destroyed, a passing word or thought revives them. And if in the task of our own purification we need long patience, it is not wonderful that even more should be required in the attempt to set others free from their besetting sins. Much of our philanthropy, again, is useless because we try to cover too large a field. Few are engaged in comparison with the enormous region over which effort has to extend, and we treat the hurt slightly, with too much haste. Then we grow despondent. Impatience, hopelessness, should never be known among those who undertake the Divine work of saving men and women from their sins. But to cure this, new ideas on the whole subject of Christian endeavour and new methods of work are required. The evil forces, a host arrayed against true life, must be followed into the desert places where they lurk, and there, with the sword of the Spirit, which is the bright strong word of God, attacked and slain. When Christians are brave and loving enough, when they have patience enough, the gospel of purity will begin to have its power.
It is somewhat surprising to find the proposal met
in this way. But Moses had doubtless good cause
for his condemnation of the two tribes. For some
time, we can believe, the notion had been entertained,
and already the cattle were driven northwards and
scattered over the pastures of Gilead. The people
felt that the confraternity which had survived the test
of the wilderness journey was now about to break up.
And as the two clans that proposed to settle in Eastern
The circumstances were of a kind resembling those of a Church when the enjoyment of privilege and of the gains of the past is chosen by many of its members, and the rest, discouraged by this moral unbrotherliness, have to maintain the aggressive work which ought to be shared by all. The force of unity lost, the Christian energy of large numbers lying unemployed, the rest overburdened, Churches often come far short of the success they might attain. When Reubenites and Gadites devote themselves to building houses, cultivating fields, and rearing cattle, neglecting altogether the command of God to conquer the territory still in the hands of His enemies, the spirit of religion cannot but decay. The selfishness of worldly Christians reacts on those who are not worldly, so that they feel its subtle influence, even although they scorn to yield. And when there is some great task to be done which requires the personal service and contributions of all, withdrawal of the less zealous may in this way make victory impossible. True, we have on the other side the case of Gideon and his rejection of the great bulk of his army, that he might take the field with a few who were brave and ready. Numbers of half-hearted people do not help an enterprise. Still, the duties of the Church of Christ are so great that all are required for them. It is no apology to say that men are apathetic, and therefore useless. They ought to be eager for the Divine war.
It was not at all wonderful that the men of Reuben
and Gad proposed to settle on the east of Jordan. The
In danger of losing all because they had been too
selfish, the men of Reuben and Gad made a new proposal.
They would go with the rest to the conquest of
Canaan; yea, they would form the van of the army.
If Moses would only allow them to provide sheep-folds
for their flocks and cities for their families, they would
take the field and never think of returning till the other
tribes had all found settlement. The offer was one
which Moses saw fit to accept; but with a caution to
the Reubenites. If they fulfilled the promise, he said,
they should be guiltless before the Lord; but if they
did not, their sin would be written against them. Foreseeing
Earthly comfort and the means of material prosperity
can never be enjoyed without spiritual disadvantage,
or at least the risk of spiritual loss. The whole region
of ease and wealth lies towards the desert in which the
adversaries of the soul have their lurking-places, from
which they come stealthily or even boldly in open day
to make their assaults. A man who has large means
is exposed to the envy of others; his life may be
embittered by their designs upon him; his nature may
be seriously injured by the flattery of those who have
no power but only the base cunning to which narrow
self-love may descend. These, however, are not the
assailants that are most to be dreaded. Rather
should the man who is rich fear the danger to his
religion and his soul which draws near in other ways.
The wealthy who have no religion court his friendship
and propose to him schemes for increasing his wealth.
Alliances are urged upon him which stir and partly
gratify his ambition. He is pointed to honours that
can only be had through abandoning the great ideas
of life by which he should be ruled. He is served
obsequiously, and is tempted to think that the world
goes very well because he enjoys all he desires, or
is in the way to obtain the fulfilment of his highest
earthly hopes. The curse of egotism hangs over
him, and to escape it he needs a double portion of
It is well for a man when, before enjoying the good
things of this life in abundance, he has taken the field
with those who have to fight a hard battle, and has
done his share of common work. But even that is not
enough to guard him against pride and self-sufficiency
for the whole term of his existence. Better is it when
by his own choice the hardness is retained in his
experience, when he never discharges himself from the
duty of fighting side by side with others, that he may
help them to their inheritance. That and that alone
will save his life. He is called as a soldier of God to
maintain the holy war for human rights, for the social
well-being and spiritual good of mankind. Every rich
man should be a friend of the people, a reformer, taking
the part of the multitude against his own tendency and
the tendency of his class to exclusiveness and self-indulgence.
The warning given by Moses to Reuben
and Gad in accepting their proposals should linger
with those who are rich and in high station. If they
fail to do their duty to the general mass of their fellow-men,
if they leave the rest to fight, at disadvantage, for
their human inheritance, they sin against God's law,
which calls for brotherhood, and that sin will surely
find them out. In the end no sin is more sure to come
home in judgment. And it is not by some miserable
gifts to religious objects or some patronage of philanthropic
schemes the prosperous can discharge the great
debt laid upon them. In whatever way the inequalities
of life, the disabilities of privilege and wealth, hinder
the realisation of brotherhood, there lie opportunity
and need for men's personal effort. Would this imply
sacrifice of what are called rights, of perhaps no small
And how does the sin of those who neglect such high duties find them out? Perhaps in the loss of the possessions they have selfishly guarded, and their reduction to the level of those whom they kept at arm's-length and treated as inferiors or as enemies. Perhaps in the harshness of temper and bitterness of spirit the proud, friendless rich man may find growing upon him in old age, the horrible feeling that he has not one brother where he should have had thousands, no one to care—except selfishly—whether he lives or dies. To come to that, so far as a man is concerned with his fellow-men, is to be indeed lost. But these retributions may be artfully escaped. What then? Is not One to be reckoned with who is the Guardian of the human family and gives men power and wealth only as His stewards, to be used in His service? The future life does not obliterate society, but it destroys the class separations, the factitious distinctions, that exist now. It brings a man face to face with the fact that he is but a man, like others, responsible to God. Is not the result indicated by our Lord when He says to exclusive Pharisaical men, "They shall come from the east and west, and from the north and south, and shall sit down in the kingdom—ye yourselves cast forth without"? Brotherhood here, not in name, but in deed and truth, means brotherhood above. Denial of it here means unfitness for the society of heaven.
We learn from ver. 19 that the Reubenites and
Gadites confidently affirmed, even when they made their
It is a parable of the degeneration of life.—Earthly
From Rameses, the place of departure, to Abel-shittim,
in the plains of Moab, forty-two stations in all
are given at which the Israelites pitched. Of these
about twenty-four are named either in Exodus, in other
parts of the Book of Numbers, or in Deuteronomy.
Some eighteen, therefore, are mentioned in this passage
and nowhere else. Of the whole number, comparatively
few have as yet been identified. The Egyptian localities,
In the same direction the "Prayer of Habbakuk" points (iii. 3, 7):
The tradition which places Sinai in the south of the peninsula between the two gulfs "is of later origin than the lifetime of St. Paul, and can claim no higher authority than the interested fancies of ignorant cœnobites. It throws into confusion both the geography and the history of the Pentateuch, and contradicts the definite statements of the Old Testament." So the most recent inquiry.
If Mount Sinai was somewhere to the south of Edom,
the journey thence to Kadesh by way of Kibroth-hattaavah
and Hazeroth, localities mentioned both in
A list of names with only three historical notes
appears a singular memorial of the forty years. Time
was, no doubt, when the places named were all well
known, and any Israelite desiring to satisfy himself as
to the route by which his forefathers went could make
it out by help of this passage. To us the interest of
the subject is partly the same as that which might have
been found by a Hebrew, say, of the time of Hezekiah,
for whom the verification of the wilderness journey
might be a help to faith. But the impossibility of
identifying the localities shows that there are matters
in the history of Israel which are of no particular
importance now. There is more danger in seeking to
gratify mere curiosity, than profit in any possible
discoveries. Why should not the mountain of the
law-giving be hid in the shadows as well as the grave
in which Moses was laid? Why should not the places
at which Israel encamped be to us mere names, since,
if we could identify them, it might only be to add fresh
difficulties instead of clearing away those that exist?
The Israelites who entered Canaan had not seen all
the way by which Jehovah led His people. When
they crossed the Jordan, present duty was to engage
The ideas of change and urgency are in our passage. The wilderness journey was taken by a people on whom Divine influences had laid hold, who of themselves would have remained content in Egypt, but were not suffered, because God had some greater thing in store for them. The urgency throughout was His. And so is that which we ourselves feel hurrying us from change to change, from place to place. We may not be in the wilderness, but in a spot of shelter and comfort; and it may be no house of bondage, but a vantage-ground for generous effort. Even when we are thus happily settled, as we imagine, the call comes, and we must strike our tents. At other times our own anxiety anticipates the command. But we know that always, whether we pass into sterner conditions of life or escape to more pleasant circumstances, the times and changes that happen to us are of God's appointing, that His providence urges us toward a goal. And this means that our reaching the goal must be by His way, although properly we endeavour to find it for ourselves.
The number of the stations at which Israel encamped
in the course of forty years can scarcely be taken as
representing the number of changes from dwelling to
In this way many find themselves held for a long period of middle life. Their minds move from one point to another without seeming to make any progress. But neither does rest come. It is seen that partial obedience, a measure of nearness to the perfection once dreamed of, will not suffice. Then arises the question whether obedience can ever save. There is return almost to Sinai itself, at least to a place from which its peak is seen and the mind is confirmed as to the inexorability of law. So the urgency of the Divine will is felt, and the way is fixed. If the soul would make its own way into peace, it is driven back. For, perhaps, it would have the difficulty solved by taking the way of a Church, accepting a creed—as Israel would have passed through the territory of Edom. This also is forbidden. Trusted helpers fall by the way, as Aaron died at Hor, and there is sorrowful delay. But movement is enforced; and, finally, it is by a road that reveals Sinai and the law in quite another aspect, showing vital faith, not mere obedience, to be the means of salvation, our progress is made. Round the borders of Edom, not by trust in creed or Church, but by confidence in God Himself, the soul must advance. Then strength comes. Point after point is reached and passed. Self-righteousness, pride, and Pharisaism—Amorites of the mountain land—are overcome. At length through the faith of Christ peace is found, the peace that is possible on this side the river.
It is our high privilege to be urged and led on thus
by Him who knows the way we should take, who tries
us that we may come forth purified as gold. Without
Divine pressure we should content ourselves in the
desert and never see the real good of life. So many
2. Commandment is given that when the Israelites
pass over Jordan they shall use effectual means for
establishing themselves as the people of Jehovah in
Canaan. They are, for one thing, to drive out before
them all the inhabitants of the land. Nothing is here
said of putting them all to the sword; only they are
not to be left even in partial occupation. The plan of
Israel's settlement in its new territory requires that it
shall be subject to no alien influence, and shall have the
field entirely to itself for the development of customs,
civilisation, and religion. And in this there is nothing
either impossible or, as the ideas of the time went,
strange and cruel. We do not need to take refuge in the
command of God and defend it by saying that He had
absolute right over the lives of the Canaanites. The
tides of war and population were continually flowing
and receding. When the Israelites reached Canaan,
they had the same right as others to occupy it, provided
they could make their right good at the point of the
sword. Yet for their own special consciousness the
To drive out all the inhabitants of the land was, however, a difficult task; and even Moses might not intend the order to be literally obeyed. We have seen that he did not require the destruction of the Midianites to be absolute. In the wars of conquest in Canaan cases of a similar kind would necessarily arise. When a tribe was driven out of its cities many would be left behind, some of whom would conceal themselves and gradually venture from their hiding-places. The command was general, and could scarcely be supposed to require the putting to death of all children. And again, as we know, there were fortresses which for a long time defied attempts to reduce them. The Israelites were not so faithful to God that Moses could expect their success to be insured by supernatural aid. It is the constant purpose they are to have in view, to sweep the land clear of those presently in occupation. As they establish themselves, this will be carried out; and if they fail, allowing any of the tribes to remain, these will be as pricks in their eyes and as thorns in their sides.
The will of God that Israel, called to special duty in
the world, was to keep itself separate, is here strongly
emphasised. It was the only way by which faith could
be preserved and made fruitful. For the Canaanites,
already civilised and in many of the arts superior to
the Hebrews, had gross polytheistic beliefs imbedded
in their customs, and a somewhat elaborate cultus which
was observed throughout the whole land. "Figured
stones," which by their shape or incised emblems
The command thus ascribed to Moses was again
one which he must have known the Israelites would
find difficult to carry out, even if they were cordially
disposed to obey it. The sacred places of a country
like Canaan tend to retain their reputation even when
the rites fall into disuse; and however expeditiously
the work of sweeping away the original inhabitants
might be done, there was no small danger that
knowledge of the cult as well as veneration for the
high places would be learned by the Hebrews. The
command was made clear and uncompromising so that
every Israelite might know his duty; but the difficulty
and the peril remained. And as we know from the
Book of Judges and subsequent history, the law,
especially in regard to the demolition of high places,
3. The boundaries of the land in which the Israelites
were to dwell are laid down in ch. xxxiv.; but, as
elsewhere, there is difficulty in following the geography
and identifying the old names. The south quarter is
to be "from the wilderness of Zin along by the side
of Edom"—that is to say, it is to include the region
of Zin near Kadesh and extend to the mountains of
Seir. The "ascent of Akrabbim" is apparently the
Ghor rising southwards from the Dead Sea. The line
then runs along the Arabah for some distance, say fifty
miles, across by the south of the Azazimeh hills and
of Kadesh Barnea towards the stream called the river
or brook of Egypt, which it followed to its debouchment
in the Mediterranean. The western boundary was the
Mediterranean or Great Sea for a distance of perhaps
The Canaan of the Divine promise marked out, yet
never fully possessed, is a symbol of the region
of this life which those who believe in God have
assigned to them, but never entirely enjoy. There are
boundaries within which there is abundant room for
the development of the life of faith. It is not, as the
world reckons, a district of great resources. As Canaan
had neither gold nor silver, neither coal nor iron mines,
as its seaboard was not well supplied with harbours,
nor its rivers and lakes of great use for inland navigation,
so we may say the life open to the Christian
has its limitations and disabilities. It does not invite
those who seek pleasure, wealth, or dazzling exploits.
Within it, discipline is to be found rather than enjoyment
of earthly good. The "milk and honey" of this
Many of us affect to despise so narrow a range of thought and endeavour, and persist in believing that something more than discipline may be looked for in this world. Is there not a proper kingdom of humanity better than any kingdom of God? May not the race of men, apart from any service paid to an Unseen God, attain dignity of its own, power, gladness, magnificence? It is supposed that by rejecting all the limitations of religion and refusing the outlook to another life the united labour of men will make this life free and this earth a paradise. But it remains true that men must limit their hopes with regard to their own future here as individuals and the future of the race. We must accept the boundaries God has fixed, on one side the swift Jordan, on the other the Great Sea. There are seemingly rich fields beyond, wide regions that invite the tastes and senses, but these are no part of the soul's inheritance; to explore and reduce them would bring no real gain.
The range that lies open to us as servants of God,
and affords ample space for the discipline of life, is
often not used and therefore not enjoyed. When
people will not accept the inevitable fixed limits within
which their time and vigour can be occupied to the
best advantage, when they look covetously to districts
of experience not meant for them, as Israel did at certain
periods of her history, their life is spoiled. Discontent
begins, envy follows. Where in seeking and reaching
moral gains, purity, courage, love, there would have
According to this statute, there is, for one thing, to
The suburbs, or pasture lands about the cities, are
measured a thousand cubits broad, and are to be two
thousand cubits along each of the four boundaries. If the
figures given are correct it would seem that, although
the wall of the city is spoken of, the measurement must
really have begun in the centre of the city; otherwise
there could never have been a square of land, cities not
taking that form; nor could a boundary of two thousand
cubits on each aspect, north, south, east, and west, be
made out. The cities must often have been small, a
The main purpose of the present statute, so far as it refers to the dwellings of the Levites, would appear to have been economic, not religious. It was that all the tribes might have their share of maintaining the servants of the sanctuary. But it seems likely that a class half priestly would, in lack of other duty, attach itself to the high places, and set up a worship not contemplated by the law. And if this is to be regarded as a misfortune, the choice of the Levitical cities is in some cases difficult to account for. Kedesh in Naphtali had been a famous holy place of the Canaanites; so probably were others, as Gibeon, Shechem, Gath-rimmon. The special symbol of Jehovah was the ark; and where the ark was the principal national rites were always performed. But in a time of pioneer work and constant alarms the central sanctuary could not always be visited, and the Levites appear to have lent themselves to worship of a local kind.
An ecclesiastical order needs great faithfulness if it is not to become irreligious through poverty, or proud and domineering through assumption of power with God. To live poorly as those Levites were expected to live, without the opportunity of earthly gain, while often the share of national support which was due fell to a very low and wholly inadequate amount, would try the fidelity of the best of them. No large claim need be made in behalf of men specially engaged in the work of the Christian Church; and great wealth seems inappropriate to those who represent Christ. But what is their due should at least be paid cheerfully, and the more so if they give earnest minds to the service of God and man. With all faults that have at various periods of the Church's history stained the character of the clergy, they have maintained a testimony on behalf of the higher life, and the sacredness of duty to God. A materialistic age will make light of that service, and point to ecclesiastical pride and covetousness as more than counterbalancing any good that is done. But a broad and fair survey of the course of events will show that the witness-bearing of a special class to religious ideas has kept alive that reverence on which morality depends. True, the ideal of a theocracy would dispense with an order set apart to teach the law of God and to enforce His claims on men. But for the times that now are, even in the most Christian country, the witness-bearing of a gospel ministry is absolutely needful. And we may take the statute before us as anticipating a general necessity, that necessity which the apostles of our Lord met when they ordained presbyters in every Church, and gave them commission to feed the flock of God.
2. The Cities of Refuge. Among the forty-eight cities that provide dwellings for the Levites, six are to be cities of refuge, "that the man-slayer which killeth any person unwittingly may flee thither." Three of these cities are to be on the east and three on the west side of Jordan. According to other enactments they are to be distributed so as to be reached quite easily from all parts of the country. They were sanctuaries for any one fleeing from the "avenger of blood"; but the protection found in them was not by any means absolute. Only if there appeared to be good cause for admitting a fugitive was he afforded refuge even for a time, and his trial followed as soon as possible. The laws of protection and judgment are here laid down not fully, though with some detail.
We notice first that the statutes regarding the man-slayer
are frankly based on the primitive practice of
blood revenge. It was the duty of the nearest male
relation of one who had been slain to seek the blood
of the man who slew him. The duty was held to be
one which he owed to his brother, to the community,
and to God; and the principle of retribution in such
cases was embodied in the saying, "Whoso sheddeth
man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed." The
goël, or redeemer, whose part it was to recover for a
family land that had been alienated, or a member of
the family who had fallen into slavery, had it also laid
on him to seek justice on behalf of the family when
one belonging to it had been killed. The evils of this
method of punishing crime are very evident. All the
heat of personal affection for the man put to death, the
keen desire to maintain the honour of family or clan,
and the bitter hatred of the tribe to which the
homicide belonged, made the pursuit of the criminal
We may wonder that the Hebrew law, enlightened on many points, did not wholly abolish the practice of blood revenge. Justice is not the private affair of any man, even the nearest kinsman of one who has been injured. We have learned that the administration of law, especially in cases of murder or supposed murder, is best taken out of the hands of a private avenger, whose aim is to strike as soon and as effectually as possible. It remains of course for those whose friend has died by violence to institute inquiries and do their utmost to bring the criminal to justice. But even when a man's guilt seems clear his trial is before an impartial judge by whom all relevant facts are elicited. In Hebrew law there was no complete provision for such an administration of justice. The ancient custom could not be easily set aside, for one thing; the passionate oriental nature would cling to it. And for another, there was no organisation for repressing disorder and dealing with crime. A certain risk had to be run, in order that the sanctity of human life might be clearly kept before a people too ready to strike as well as to curse. But if the man-slayer was able to reach a city of refuge he had his trial. The old custom was checked by the right of the fugitive to claim sanctuary and to have his case investigated.
As for the sanctuary cities, there may also have been some imperfect custom which anticipated them. In Egypt there certainly was; and the Canaanites, who had learned not a little from Egypt, may have had sacred places that afforded protection to the fugitive. But the Mosaic law prevented abuse of the means of evading justice. He who had killed another was a criminal before God. The blood of the brother he had slain defiled the land and cried to Heaven. No sanctuary must protect a man who had with homicidal purpose struck another. There was to be neither priestly protection, nor sanctuary, nor ransom for him. The Divine principle of justice took up the cause.
In vv. 16 ff. there are examples of cases which are adjudged to be murder. To smite one with an instrument of iron, or with a stone grasped in the hand presumably large enough to kill, or with a weapon of wood, a heavy club or bar, is adjudged to be deliberate homicide. Then if hatred can be proved, and one known to have cherished enmity towards another is shown to have thrust him down, or hurled at him, lying in wait, or to have smitten him with the hand, such a one is to be allowed no sanctuary. On the other hand, the cases of inadvertent homicide are defined: "if he thrust him suddenly without enmity, or hurled upon him anything without lying in wait, or with any stone, whereby a man may die, seeing him not." These, of course, are simply instances, not exhaustive categories.
It is not here stated, but in
A singular point in the law is the term during which the unwitting man-slayer who had been acquitted by the court of justice must remain in sanctuary. He is in danger of being put to death by the avenger of blood until the acting high priest dies. Till that event he must keep within the border of his city of refuge. And here the idea seems to be that the official memory of the crime which had ceremonially defiled the land rested with the high priest. He was supposed to keep in mind, on God's behalf, the bloodshed which even though unintentional was still polluting. His death accordingly obliterated the recollection that kept the man-slayer under peril of the goël's revenge. The high priest had no power to acquit or condemn a criminal, nor to enforce against him the punishment of his fault. But he was the guardian of the sacredness of the land in the midst of which Jehovah dwelt.
With regard to the symbolical meaning of the cities
The singular opinion has been expressed that the
death of the high priest was expiatory. This is said
to be "unmistakably evident" from the addition of the
clause, "who has been anointed with the holy oil"
(ver. 25). The argument is that as the high priest's
life and work "acquired a representative signification
through this anointing with the Holy Ghost, his death
might also be regarded as a death for the sins of the
people by virtue of the Holy Ghost imparted to him,
through which the unintentional man-slayer received
the benefits of the propitiation for his sins before God,
so that he could return cleansed to his native town
without further exposure to the vengeance of the
avenger of blood." And thus, it is said, "The death
of the earthly high priest became a type of that of
While it cannot be said that "light is thrown by the
provisions regarding cities of refuge on the atonement of
Christ"—for that would be the morning star shedding
light on the sun—still there are some points of illustration;
and one of these may be noted. As the protection
of the sanctuary city extended only to the boundaries
or precincts belonging to it, so the defence the sinner
has in Christ can be enjoyed only so far as life is
brought within the range of the influence and commands
of Christ. He who would be safe must be a Christian.
It is not mere profession of faith—"Lord, Lord, have we
not prophesied in Thy name?"—but hearty obedience
to the laws of duty coming from Christ that gives
safety. "Who shall lay any thing to the charge of
God's elect?"—and the elect are those who yield the
fruit of the Spirit, who are lovers of God and their
fellow-men, who show their faith by their works. It
is a misrepresentation of the whole teaching of Scripture
to declare that salvation can be had, apart from life and
3. Tribal Inheritance. Already we have heard the appeal of the daughters of Zelophehad to be allowed an inheritance as representing their father. Now a question which has arisen regarding them must be solved. The five women have not cared to undertake the work of the upland farm allotted to them, somewhere about the head waters of the Yarmuk. They have, in fact, as heiresses been somewhat in request among the young men of different tribes; and they are almost on the point of giving their hands to husbands of their choice. But the chiefs of the family of Manasseh to which they belong find a danger here. The young women may perhaps choose men of Gad, or men of Judah. Then their land, which is part of the land of Manasseh, will go over to the tribes of the husbands. There will be a few acres of Judah or of Gad in the north of Manasseh's land. And if other young women throughout the tribes, who happen to be heiresses, marry according to their own liking, by-and-by the tribe territories will be all confused. Is this to be allowed? If not, how is the evil to be prevented?
The national centre and general unity of Israel could
not in the early period be expected to suffice. Without
tribal coherence and a sense of corporate life in each
family the Israelites would be lost among the people
of the land. Especially would this tend to take place
on the eastern side of Jordan and in the far north.
Now the clan unity went with the land. It was as
those dwelling in a certain district the descendants of
one progenitor realised their brotherhood. Hence there
was good reason for the appeal of the Manassites and
The exigencies of the early settlement appear to
have required this law; and it was maintained as far
as possible, so that he who lived in a certain region
might know himself not only a Reubenite or a Benjamite
as the case might be, but a son of Hanoch of the
Reubenites, or a son of Ard among the Benjamites.
But we may doubt whether the unity of the nation
was not delayed by the means used to keep the land
for each tribe and each tribe on its own land. The
arrangement was perhaps inevitable; yet it certainly
belonged to a primitive social order. The homogeneity
of the people would have been helped and the tribes
held more closely together by interchange of land. In
every law made at an early stage of a people's
development there is involved something unsuitable to
after periods. And perhaps one error made by the
Israelites was to cling too long and too closely to tribal
descent and make too much of genealogy. The enactment
regarding the marriage of heiresses within their
own families was an old one, bearing the authority of
Moses. There came a time when it should have been
revoked and everything done that was possible to weld
the tribes together. But the old customs held; and
what was the result? The tribes east of Jordan, as
For the tribe idea and the other of making inheritance of land a governing matter, the Israelites would seem to have paid dearly. And there is danger still in the attempt to make a nation cohere on any mere territorial basis. It is the spirit, the fidelity to a common purpose, and the pervasive enthusiasm that give real unity. If these are wanting, or if the general aim is low and material, the security of families in the soil may be exceedingly mischievous. At the same time the old feeling is proved to have a deep root in fact. Territorial solidarity is indispensable to a nation; and the exclusion of a people from large portions of its land is an evil intolerable. Christianity has not done its work where the Church, the teacher of righteousness, is unconcerned for this great matter. How can religion flourish where brotherhood fails? And how can brotherhood survive in a nation when the right of occupying the soil is practically denied? First among the economic questions which claim Christian settlement is that of land tenure, land right. Christianity carries forward the principles of the Mosaic law into higher ranges, where justice is not less, but more—where brotherhood has a nobler purpose, a finer motive.
Aaron, 16;
character of, 29;
and his sons, 32;
complains of Moses' marriage, 137;
rod of, 198, 207;
intercession of, 207;
close of his life, 235.
Aaronites, support of, 215.
Abstinence, pledge of, 60.
Agag, 307.
Alliances with Christianity, 114.
Amalekites, 312.
Amorites, 157, 253;
defeat of, by Israel, 255.
Anak, sons of, 157.
Angel of the Lord, 281.
Arabah, Wady, 244.
Arad, King of, 178, 243.
Ark, the, 44;
borne before the host, 116.
Arnold, Matthew, 304.
Art, claimed for God, 95.
Assemblies, calling of, 96.
Atonement, for omissions, 184;
great day of, 356.
Azazel, 355.
Baal-peor, festival of, 314.
Baals, the, 295.
Balaam, reputation of, 261;
name of, 262;
his knowledge of Jehovah, 267;
refuses to go to Moab, 268;
his error, 273;
the critical, 283;
first parable of, 292;
prayer of, 296;
second parable of, 300;
third parable of, 305;
fourth parable of, 309;
end of, 320;
like Absalom, 322.
Balak, in anxiety, 261;
and Balaam, 288;
his sacrifices, 290;
bewildered, 305.
Bashan reduced, 255.
Bible, the Word of God, 163;
statements of, 281.
Blessing, the, of Aaron, 67;
of Moses, 116.
Blood revenge, 400.
Boehme, Jacob, quoted, 69.
Boundaries of land, 390.
Brazen serpent, the, 248;
symbolism connected with, 249.
Browning, R., quoted, 275, 294.
Caleb, one of the spies, 151;
honoured, 173.
Camp, arrangement of the, 27.
Canaan, to be explored, 152;
reported on, 157.
Canaanites admitted to fellowship, 183;
to be driven out, 389.
Candelabrum, 78;
symbolism of, 79.
Censers, the two hundred and fifty, 198, 205.
Census, the first, 18;
of all men, 20;
results of, 22;
Ceremonial duties, use of, 47.
Chaldean soothsaying, 263.
Chittim, 306, 312.
Christ, the Light, 83;
the historical, 88;
Revealer of God, 92;
the True Leader, 109;
sin-bearing of, 126;
sole headship of, 210;
the Healer, 249;
did Balaam prophesy of? 310.
Christian, law, rejection of, 187;
life, ignorant criticism of, 158;
limitations of, 393;
nation, duty of a, 160.
Church, position of the, 20;
a national, 21;
and the irresolute, 107;
helpers of the, 113;
perils of, 115;
mistaken claims of, 176;
unity of, 203.
Civilisation without morality, 372.
Cloud, the pillar of, 89;
in Isaiah, 90;
value of, as a symbol, 93.
Complaints of the Israelites, 119;
against Providence, 119.
Conscience paltered with, 278.
Consciousness, the Divine, 327.
Convocation, holy, 352.
Covetousness, 272.
Daily worship, 345.
Dathan and Abiram, 195, 205.
Dead, defilement by the, 53, 220.
Death, conception of, 3;
desired, 128;
triumphed over, 238;
tests faith, 337.
Delitzsch, Prof. F., quoted, 357.
Discipline, the finest, 238;
of humanity, 325.
Disorder, social, 165.
Divination, 263.
Divine guidance, 268.
Division of land, 330.
Drama of life, 330.
Edom, territory of, 230;
Israel debarred from, 231.
Egyptian worship, 43.
Eleazar, and Ithamar, 31;
installed as high priest, 241.
Eldad and Medad, 130.
Elders, seventy, chosen, 128;
became critics of Moses, 200.
Endeavour, law of, 324.
Enthusiasm of faith, 303.
Ethiopians, 136.
Ezekiel, Sabbath law of, 348.
Faithless is foolish, 161.
Family feast at new moon, 350.
Feast, of unleavened bread, 351;
of Pentecost, 354;
of tabernacles, 359.
"Fill the hand," 32.
First-born, number of, 36;
sanctity of, 37.
First-fruits, day of, 354.
Freedom, illusory, 110;
under Christianity, 209.
Future life, 5;
seems dim, 154;
right view of, 159.
Genealogies, 328.
Gentiles, 266.
Gershonites, 44.
Gifts to be proportionate, 181.
Girls saved alive, 366.
God, modern doubt of, 163;
compassion of, 213;
sole allegiance to, 274, 279;
the Link of the generations, 326.
Goël, the, 55, 400.
Gospel, light of the, 82.
Government, the Divine, 187.
Greek tragedy, 2, 3.
Guardians of religion, 26.
Heaven no fable, 155.
Hebrew, the recoil of, from death, 4.
Heifer, the red, 217.
Hierarchy, establishment of, 208.
Hierocracy, 6, 363, 403.
High priest, memory of, 403;
death of, 404.
Hobab the Kenite, 104;
refuses to join Israel, 109;
second appeal to, 111;
his influence, 201.
Holiness, ideas of, 46.
Holy place, symbolism of, 79.
Homeborn, the, 181.
Hor, Mount, 234.
Hypocrisy, danger of, 281.
Impotence confessed, 285.
Iniquity, of tabernacle, 212;
of priesthood, 214.
Insincerity, 270.
Inspiration, 13;
of prophets, 143;
of Moses, 144.
Intrusions on life, 232.
Irresolute, the, 107.
Isaiah, 213.
Israelites, the, separateness of, 7, 295;
religion of, 9;
a holy nation, 25;
not hopeful, 156;
disaffection of, at Kadesh, 160;
Moses intercedes for, 169;
punishment of, not inordinate, 171;
defiant advance of, on Canaan, 174;
refused way through Edom, 231;
no enchantment with, 302;
unable to convert, 319;
their advantages, 324;
purity of race, 328;
religious enthusiasm of, 353.
Itinerary, 382.
Iye-abarim, 250.
Jealousy, water of, 56.
Jehovah, King and Judge, 5;
authority of, 7;
Guardian, 68;
in pillar of cloud, 91;
Protector of Israel, 117;
His call to Israel, 123;
communicates with Moses, 144;
His "similitude," 146;
pardons but punishes, 170;
forbearance of, 225;
worship of, 295;
revealed to Moses, 335;
all time dedicated to, 347.
Jethro, 104.
Jonah, 226.
Joshua, jealous for Moses, 132;
one of the spies, 151;
in practical command, 244;
designation of, 339.
Journal theory, 11.
Judah in the van, 102.
Judgment of murmurers, 120.
Justice, impatient, 315;
right course of, 316;
and blood revenge, 401.
Kadesh, the tribes at, 103;
mustering at, 222;
position of, 384.
Kenites, the, 105, 266, 312.
Kibroth-hattaavah, 134.
Kiriath-huzoth, 290.
Kohathites, duties of, 42.
Korah, revolt of, 195;
his claim, 196;
doom of, 205.
Land law, 407.
Laymen, 202.
Leader, qualifications of a, 340.
Leaven banished from houses, 352.
Legislation in Numbers, 12.
Lepers, exclusion of, 48;
their condition, 48;
no pariahs, 51.
Leprosy, and moral disease, 49;
cases of, 50;
of Miriam, 147.
Levi, tribe of, separate, 7;
service of 25;
in Deuteronomy, 33.
Levites, admitted priests, 33;
service of the, an atonement, 39;
consecration of, 40;
duties of, 42;
revolt of, with Korah, 201;
support of, 215;
cities of, 396.
Levitical law, 8.
Liberality Christian, 75.
Life, close of, 235.
Lord's Supper, the, 86.
Manna, complained of, 121;
glorified, 122.
March, order of, 97;
of humanity, 98;
in the wilderness, 101.
Marriage, laws, 58;
of expedience, 280.
Meal and drink offerings, 180.
Merarites, duties of, 44.
Message, the Divine, 219.
Midianites, 261;
plot of, against Israel, 313;
to be vexed, 318;
war with, 365;
number of, 368.
Militarism in Numbers, 17.
Ministry, a, duties of, 212;
provision for, 399.
Miriam, jealousy of, 136;
punishment of, 147;
death of, 223.
Mixed multitude, 121.
Moab, overrun by Amorites, 254;
plains of, 260.
Moral severity, 370.
Morley, J., quoted, 88.
Moses, not hero of Numbers, 2;
no priest, 6;
reverence for, 16;
his communion with God, 76;
acted for Jehovah, 92;
appeals to Hobab, 105;
strain on, as leader, 125;
prays for death, 128;
magnanimity of, 133;
position of, 142;
and Isaiah, 146;
represented God, 162;
great offer to, 167;
authority of, 203;
coalition against, 204;
and Korah, 204;
and Dathan, 205;
intercedes for Israel, 206;
at the rock, 225;
judgment of, 228;
with Aaron at the last, 240;
close of his life, 313;
faith of, 336;
his order as to Midianites, 367;
rebukes Reuben and Gad, 374.
Mustering, the, 18.
Nabi or prophet, 143.
Nadab and Abihu, 29.
Nahshon, 22.
Napoleon, 285.
Nature and God, 80.
Nature-cultus, 313.
Naziritism, parallels to, 59;
statutes regarding, 60;
ceremonies of discharge, 64.
"Nephesh," 53.
New moon, 343, 349;
of seventh month, 355.
Numbers, the Book of, and prophecies, 1;
like Greek drama, 2;
three main channels in, 7;
Puritanism of, 8;
sources of, 10;
time covered by, 11;
date of, 12;
as history, 13;
spirit of, 16.
Offerings, laws of, 179;
meal and drink, 344;
daily, 344.
Ordeal of jealousy, 57.
Organisation, idea of, 44.
Overcrowding, 331.
Parables of Balaam, 292, 300, 305.
Pardon and restoration, 171.
Passover, the Little, 84, 86;
the, 351.
Peace, Divine, 70.
Pentecost, 354.
Peor, 305.
Pethor, 261.
Phinehas, zeal of, 315;
accompanies the army, 365.
Pisgah, 299.
Plato, 5.
Possessions, 325.
Price, has each man his? 288.
Priest, place of, 340, 363.
Priesthood, the, 29;
consecration of, 32;
of Christ, 203;
human, 208;
Aaronic, duties of, 212;
support of, 215.
Priests' Code, 6, 12, 314, 317, 363, 368.
Primogeniture, 35.
Princes, offerings of the, 73.
Prophesying of the seventy, 130;
false, 133;
oracle regarding, 142.
Prophets, calling of, 45;
of Old Testament, 143;
vision of, 306.
Purification, water of, 216.
Quails, 129.
Red Sea, 383.
Redemption, of first-born, 38;
signified by the Passover, 86.
Refuge, cities of, 400.
Religion, power of, 303.
Repentance, 287.
Responsibility of a leader, 126.
Reuben and Gad, 374;
their decay, 380.
Reubenites, the, claim of, 200, 202.
Rich, dangers of the, 377.
Righteous, death of the, 296.
Robertson, F. W., quoted, 320.
Ruskin, John, quoted, 75.
Sabbath, the, breach of, 180;
social aspect of, 189;
means of unity, 191;
in Chaldea, 346;
oblations for, 348.
Sacerdotalism, 209.
Sacred, year, 343;
places, 391.
Sacrifice, significance of, 360.
Sanctuary, the, carefully guarded, 43;
iniquity of, 212.
Sanctuary, right of, 402.
Sayce, A. H., quoted, 183, 262, 346.
Self-consecration, call to, 23.
Serpents, fiery, 246.
Service, age of, 23.
Shechinah, 89.
Sihon, the Amorite, 253.
Simeon, tribe of, 330.
Sin offering, for Nazirite, 64;
not for moral guilt, 65;
the, 349;
a he-goat, 354.
Sinai, 383.
Smith, W. Robertson, quoted, 37.
Spies, the, despatched, 151;
evil report of, 158;
doom of the ten, 173.
Spirit, endowment of the, 130.
Spiritual maladies, 149.
Spirituality, 296.
Standards, 27.
Strange fire, 31.
Strangers, 182.
Symbolism, of Sabbath, 191;
Christian, 193.
Sympathy with Christianity, 112.
Taberah, 120.
Tabernacles, feast of, 359.
Tassels, memorial, 192.
Temple, the, 75.
Temptations, 371.
Theocracy, not hierocracy, 6;
sustained, 319.
Tithes, 215.
Transgressors, high-handed, 185.
Trespass, atonement for, 55.
Trumpets, the silver, 95;
signalled the advance, 97;
in war time, 99;
at festivals 100, 355.
Unbelieving, doom of the, 167.
Uncleanness, ideas of, 46;
by leprosy, 48;
by the dead, 52, 220.
Unity of Christians, 97.
Unleavened bread, feast of, 351.
Urim, 341.
Vaheb in Suphah, 251.
Virtue, safety of, 279.
Vocation of the Christian, 123.
Vows, 344, 361;
of women, 362.
'Wars of Jehovah, Book of,' 251.
Water fails, 224.
Way of the soul, 386.
Well, song of the, 252.
Wellhausen, J., on theocracy, 6;
on Korah, 199;
quoted, 317, 368.
Wilderness, our life in, 124, 258;
near Maan, 245;
discipline of, 256.
Women, claim of, 139, 332.
Young, the, hopefulness of, 172.
Zared, valley of, 251.
Zelophehad, daughters of, 331, 406.
Zippor, 262.
Zophim, 299.
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