But what connexion subsisted between the marriage of Moses with an Ethiopian woman, and the pretentious of Aaron and Miriam to an equality with their illustrious brother? Truly, none at all. Their conduct is a striking display, not only of the virulence of envy, but of the progress and resentful nature of anger. It always wanders from its subject, and ranges around for new materials upon which to operate. It possesses the perverse capacity of converting every thing into an element of mischief, of inventing circumstances and envenoming objections. It seeks to enlist others into its services, and to bring every thing into a confederacy against the peace of its object. It is limited by no bounds, and restrained by no considerations; it will often, like the exasperated judge of Israel, pull down ruin upon his own head, for the sake of destroying others. The present contention began about Zipporah, but it ended in Moses himself. It was, perhaps, at first, a common-place strife; but at length it assumed the shape of a settled hostility. It was but a spark, and if angry passions had not blown it, soon it might have gone out; imprudence and revenge raised and extended it into a vast conflagration.

Family quarrels are, of all other dissentions, the most to be deprecated. We should be careful to prevent them, and if they occur, take effectual and speedy measures for their extinction. Let us not be tenacious of our own opinions, or determined upon practising our own plans. It becomes the Christian, both for his own sake and for the interest of religion, to make every possible sacrifice to peace. Pour the oil of gentleness upon the stormy billows of strife: ever remembering that "a brother offended is harder to be won than a strong city, and their contentions are like the bars of a castle."

One expression in this narrative merits particular notice. Let the envious detractor tremble at the words, "the Lord heard it." It requires not the tone of thunder to penetrate the ear of God: his omniscience perceives the secret whisperings of slander, and even the inaudible and unexpressed surmises of a perverted mind. Moses may have been ignorant of the industrious malignity of his brother and Miriam, or disregardful of any intimations on the subject; for a person of integrity is unwilling to believe, without very compulsory evidence, the dishonesty of others; or, if it cannot be discredited, he will patiently pursue that course which will eventually place injured innocence in the point of complete vindication. In this he resembled the great Exemplar of every virtue of whom he was an eminent antitype, and of whom it is recorded, that "when he was reviled, he reviled not again, but committed himself to him that judgeth righteously."

But whether Moses did or did not hear, or, hearing, disregarded the detractions of his nearest relatives, God observed them, and instantly came down to express his displeasure. The two delinquents were summoned to the door of the tabernacle of the congregation, with their much-injured brother: the glory of the Shekinah appeared, and the solemn voice of the divine majesty issued from the cloud of his presence. The superiority of Moses was proclaimed, and an unanswerable question proposed to them, "Wherefore then were ye not afraid to speak against my servant Moses?" As an indication of anger, the symbolic cloud instantly removed from the tabernacle; and Miriam, the most forward, and perhaps the first in this transgression, became "leprous, white as snow."

Aaron was shocked at the sight, and had immediate recourse to the man he had before so defamed, humbly requesting him to pass over the sin they had perpetrated, and entreating his powerful intercession with God on behalf of their afflicted sister. Moses, obeying at once the impulse of humanity, piety, and fraternal attachment, pleaded for her restoration. He was graciously heard. Miriam was excluded from the camp only seven days, during which the journeyings of Israel were suspended, to express the displeasure of God at their concurrence in her transgression, and to show the kind intermixture of mercy with judgment in the divine proceedings. After this, the people removed from Hazeroth, and pitched in the wilderness of Paran.

[Sidenote: Years before Christ, about 1451.]

With this instructive story the history of Miriam closes, excepting the brief notice of her death at The encampment at Kadesh, where she was buried. Josephus relates, that after interring her with great solemnity, the people mourned for her a month. This occurred in the fortieth year after the departure from Egypt, Eusebius says, that in his time her sepulchre was still to be seen at Kadesh.

Whether the imputation be true or false, that women are particularly addicted to the vice of slander, it cannot be deemed unsuitable to suggest a caution upon this subject. Character is a sacred thing, and it is unworthy of you to trifle with it. To sit in judgment upon others, and to pronounce a hasty verdict upon actions which may be carelessly misrepresented, or words, if not intentionally, yet heedlessly misquoted, without affording an opportunity to the condemned individual to speak for himself, is unjust in the extreme. But how many excellent persons are made the butt of ridicule, or tossed about as the playthings of a gossipping spirit, which, incapable of a direct charge, gratifies its malignity by infusing calumnies into the too listening ear of prejudice. An idle report is, by this means, magnified and circulated to an incalculable extent; or the infirmities of excellent characters animadverted upon, for no other purpose than to fill up the waste moments of a ceremonious visit. Women should assume their proper rank, by aspiring to the dignity of rational intercourse; and not degrade themselves, and disquiet society, by engaging in petty warfare against the reputation of others.

Let what is termed religious conversation turn rather upon things than persons; otherwise men in public station, perhaps of equal though dissimilar excellence, will be in danger of undue praise or excessive depreciation. The favourite preacher will be unmercifully extolled, and the unpopular one as cruelly degraded. A clashing of opinion will be likely to produce rivalries, and invigorate partialities; till, probably, the effect of their respective labours is lost upon these fair but injudicious critics. Let young women, especially, take the hint, and "set a watch upon the door of their lips." Beware of indiscriminate censure, or extravagant applause. Regard the ministers of the word as the servants of God. Receive instruction from their lips with all humility, pray for their increasing wisdom, and tenderly cherish their good name. If a Moses, with all his excellencies, seem to you to assume, or in any respect to commit an error, do not be the first to publish it abroad in the camp, or to aggravate, by misrepresentation, a failing which is blended with such acknowledged worth. Remember, it is as likely that you should be mistaken in your judgment, as that he should be faulty in spirit or conduct; and that if your detractions be not visited with an outward token of displeasure, resembling the loathsome deformity of Miriam, which required a veil, they render you most unlovely in the sight of God and man. "The tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity: so is the tongue amongst our members, that it defileth the whole body, and setteth on fire the course of nature, and it is set on fire of hell. For every kind of beast, and of birds, and of serpents, and things in the sea, is tamed, and hath been tamed of mankind: but the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison."

The situation of Miriam during her exclusion from the camp suggest an observation on the debasing nature of sin. When engaged in the exercises of religion, and taking the lead in the celebration of the overthrow of the Egyptian army by the interposing providence of God, she appears the glory of her sex and the ornament of her country; but from the moment she indulges a guilty passion, her honour is tarnished, her dignity degraded, and her pre-eminence lost; the moral defilement she has contracted is marked by an external deformity, and issues in a degrading separation. Miriam is deeply conscious of her guilt, and confounded at its bitter consequences: she feels that she is a sufferer because she was a sinner; and would no doubt have made any sacrifice could it have been possible to regain the forfeited paradise of peace and innocency. But we have here a specimen of the inevitable consequence of sin. It does not indeed generally incur immediate and temporal punishment; but it degrades the perpetrator of it in the eyes of God, in the opinion of others, (especially the wise and good,) and in his own sight: it lowers him in the scale of being, at once diminishing his reputation and contracting his means of usefulness. If the face of Miriam recovered its beauty, and the eyes of Israel could discern no external blemishes, it is questionable whether a scar would not ever after be discernible upon her character: and even should her indulgent friends have forgotten, and God have graciously forgiven her past iniquities, Miriam, as a true penitent, would scarcely ever forgive herself: the very consciousness of pardoning mercy would often renew the sensations of penitence; and moments of holy joy would ever after be bedewed with tears of humiliation.

From this example it is further obvious, that the hope of escaping the divine displeasure on account of sin, under the notion of being the professed people of God, is altogether delusive; sin is detestable in the eyes of perfect purity wherever it exists, and can neither escape detection nor elude chastisement. Its perpetration by his own people is rather a reason for more signal and exemplary chastisement, than for any kind of exemption from it; because the motive to obedience arising from gratitude and other sources is proportionably stronger; and because a contrary proceeding would tend to disparage the divine government, by affording a plausible pretence to the doctrine of salvation in sin, and not from it. The eminence of Miriam rendered her disgrace the more requisite as a punishment, and the more salutary as an example: the leprosy in her face was a practical lesson, which every Israelite could not fail of understanding, and probably would not soon or easily forget.

It is, besides, not only the necessary tendency of sin to procure its own punishment, but such is the appointment of God: it constitutes an essential part of the great system of his moral government to unite them together; and no mortal power can disconnect them. Sooner or later every transgressor must be humbled; he must fall—by judgment, or by penitence—before the sword of excision, or into the arms of mercy. Happy for us if external visitations produce internal prostration of spirit; if, instead of stiffening ourselves into resistance, we bend to the inflictions of parental chastisement; and if present and temporary sufferings excite a feeling which will supersede the necessity of future and more awful visitations.

If, again, Miriam were so severely visited for speaking against Moses, how fatal will prove the consequences of resisting Christ! The secret whisperings of envy and ambition against the servant of God, occasioned a public and awful punishment: what tremendous wrath may not they expect who reproach or disregard his beloved Son! "If they escaped not, who refused him that spake on earth, much more shall not we escape if we turn away from him that speaketh from heaven."

This remarkable manifestation to Miriam, Aaron, and Moses, may remind us of that period which is hastening on the rapid wings of time, when the descending Judge of the universe will "come in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory," "the glory of the Father and all the holy angels," to summon every class, and all the generations of mankind, to his tribunal, and pronounce their final, irreversible, everlasting doom: then, like Moses, his servants will be vindicated from every charge, honoured by witnessing celestials, admitted through the gates into the city of the New Jerusalem, be emparadised forever in the embraces of their God. Then, like Miriam and Aaron, a guilty race, which has plotted against the righteous, and opposed by their impenitence, if not their actual persecutions, the prosperity of his cause and people, will be driven, not into temporary exile and disgrace, but into ever-during darkness. "These shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into life eternal." The pride of Miriam was intelligibly marked upon her smitten countenance; and the sin of transgressors will be written by the finger of God in appropriate and conspicuous characters upon their immortal destinies. Thus will the perfections of the Deity for ever blaze in the flames of perdition, and irradiate the temple of glory!

Finally, imitate the conduct of Moses, who, on this occasion, so nobly displayed a conduct which the Redeemer of the world thus inculcated as an essential part of his religion: "Pray for them that despitefully use you and persecute you." His intercession for Miriam, who had so cruelly injured him, was prompt and ardent; instead of resenting her calumnies, or triumphing in her merited affliction, he prayed for her recovery! Here we see the very spirit of the Gospel under the law! a Christian in the habit of a Jew! Superior to the age in which he lived, he seemed in character and temper to have anticipated a far distant period of evangelical illumination; to have caught, so to speak, by ascending the summits of faith and hope, some of the yet unrisen splendour of the Sun of Righteousness; to have been in a sense the disciple, as he was the most illustrious antitype of Christ, even centuries previous to his incarnation! The cross is indeed the centre of union and the point of attraction to all ages and nations. There the antediluvian and patriarchal saints associate with those of later times, imbibing one spirit, coalescing upon one principle, meeting in one sacred spot, conjoined in one fraternal band! The wise and the good of a former dispensation looked forward with anticipating pleasure to the great event, which we are permitted to contemplate with retrospective joy. Hail, happy hour! when we shall meet with all the redeemed in one glorious assembly; not as at present, by faith, on mount Calvary, but in reality, on mount Zion—in a world where the imperfections of Christians shall be removed, and their excellencies completed—where Miriam shall not envy Moses, nor Moses be exhibited in contrast with Miriam!



Naomi, Orpah, and Ruth.

Chapter VIII.



SECTION I.

History of Domestic Life most instructive—Book of Ruth—Sketch of the Family of Elimelech while residing in Moab—Reflections arising out of a View of their Circumstances—Naomi's Resolution to return, and that of her Daughters-in-law to accompany her—Orpah soon quits her Mother and Sister—Her Character, and that of Ruth—Requirements of Religion— Arrival of Naomi and Ruth at Bethlehem—feelings of the Former.

Domestic life furnishes the most attractive and the most instructive species of history. If it do not present an equal diversity of incident with the narratives of rising or falling empires, in whose mighty concerns every passion of human nature is interested, it possesses the superior advantage of "coming home to men's business and bosoms."

The scene of general history is frequently placed in a region which, to the great proportion of mankind, is inaccessible; and however we may admire its principal actors, they seldom furnish examples capable of being exhibited for imitation. The sphere in which they moved is so totally different, so far remote from that in which our duty usually lies, that the knowledge of their achievements can conduce but little, to the great purposes of practical improvement. The story of private life possesses a very different character; we are at once introduced to our own sphere; and although it may relate to a class in society either very much inferior or superior in point of station to ourselves, it necessarily brings into review relations which we all sustain, situations we have all to occupy, and duties we have all to discharge. Whether, therefore, a princess or a peasant be the principal actor, the central point round which every circumstance revolves, and from which it derives interest and distinction, it claims and will repay our serious attention.

Independently of these general considerations, the history of Ruth, in connection with that of Naomi and Orpah, has been always regarded as singularly interesting: it is a most pathetic tale, illustrative of the operation of the tenderest of the domestic affections, in unison with genuine religion: it exhibits the most artless simplicity of manners, the most virtuous sensibilities, and the most affecting interpositions of Providence. It is at once romantic and true, sublime and simple, marvellous and natural: it constitutes, moreover, a connecting link in the great chain of providence, and an important incident in the history of redemption.

The sacred book, which derives its name from RUTH, was in all probability written by Samuel: this is the concurrent opinion of Jews and Christians. It may be considered as supplementary to the book of Judges, an introductory to the history of David, whose descent from Judah through Pharez is distinctly traced in the genealogy of Boaz.

According to Jewish tradition, Ruth was of the royal race of Moab, a nation descended from Lot, and settled on the borders of the salt sea in the confines of Judah. She married Mahlon, the son of Elimelech, who lived in Moab in consequence of a famine which prevailed in Judea. After his death, relying on the promises made to the tribe of Judah, to which her husband belonged, she became a proselyte; and thus the Holy Spirit, by recording the adoption of a Gentile woman into that family from which the Messiah was to descend, might intend to intimate the comprehensive design of the Christian dispensation. "It must be remarked also, that in the estimation of the Jews it was disgraceful to David to have derived his birth from a Moabitess; and Shimei, in his revilings against him, is supposed by the Jews to have tauntingly reflected on his descent from Ruth. This book, therefore, contains an intrinsic proof of its own verity, inasmuch as it records a circumstance so little flattering to the sovereign of Israel [19]; and it is scarcely necessary to appeal to its admission into the canon of Scripture for a testimony of its authentic character; or to mention that the evangelists, in describing our Saviour's descent, follow its genealogical accounts." [20]

[Sidenote: Years before Christ, about 1818] This book commences with a statement of the calamitous situation of Israel in consequence of a famine, one of those messengers of divine displeasure sometimes commissioned to scourge a guilty land, and chastise them into obedience. Elimelech, a resident in Bethlehem-Judah, was compelled, probably with many others, to quit his beloved home, and seek a temporary subsistence in the country of Moab, which, although favoured at this time with the blessings of temporal prosperity and abundance, was destitute of those religious means, without which, in the view of a good man, Eden would lose its charms, and life its value. He took with him his wife Naomi and his two sons Mahlon and Chilion; and, under the guidance of that Providence which once tamed the lions and restrained the fires of Chaldea, found an asylum in the bosom of Israel's enemies.

In this exile, a family so ancient and reputable sunk into such degradation excites our compassion; still more so, when in tracing their adventurous history, we find them assaulted by new forms of sorrow and calamity. Elimelech dies, and Naomi is left with her two sons. The young men afterward marry, the one Orpah, the other Ruth, both natives of Moab. It seems as though the disconsolate widow were beginning to dry up her tears, and to rebuild her fallen house by those matrimonial alliances which tended to naturalize them in the country; but whether the use of these idolatrous materials was displeasing to God, or whether it was deemed requisite to detach the mind of Naomi, by repeated afflictions, from a soil in which her affections were becoming too deeply rooted, her two sons also died in a few years, and the three females were left to grapple with adversity alone. The original state and character of the young women is uncertain, but they became proselytes to the Jewish religion. They might have become so previously to their union with their now departed husbands, whom, if the sacred narrative had been more detailed and minute, we might possibly have had occasion to applaud for their pious discrimination, rather than to censure or suspect for impropriety of conduct; at least, under all the circumstances, we are by no means justified in severe animadversions upon their choice. But, whatever might have been their intentions, the Supreme Disposer was working with a wise but mysterious secrecy, to promote his designs which were linked with a succession of events extending to far distant generations. Poor Naomi! how desolate thy condition! how deep thy depression! Wave after wave rolls over thy defenceless head! And yet, where is the human being to whom no comforts are left? Thy daughters remain, and even if they had been removed, thy pious spirit would not have sorrowed over their graves, as one that has no hope! Thy religion has supplied thee with sources of consolation unknown to the world, and indestructible by calamity, time, or death—"The eternal God is thy refuge," "and underneath are the everlasting arms."

The rapid changes in this family cannot fail to remind us of the instability of earthly possessions and enjoyments; nor ought we to forget the wisdom and the goodness of that divine superintendence, which holds all these changes in subserviency to his will. How impressive is the language of inspiration, "we all do fade as a leaf;"—and how illustrative of the present tragical history! When the sun of summer beams upon the growing landscape, and, ascending some eminence, you survey the valleys covered over with corn, the hills adorned with verdure, the trees bending their abundant foliage to the gale, the flowers in "yellow meads of asphodel and amaranthine bowers," perfuming the air with their odours, you seem for a moment to inhabit regions of enchantment and perpetual beauty. A month or two intervenes—you reascend your former elevation, once more to feast the senses—to admire and adore the Dispenser of these blessings—but O how faded! The bright beams of the sun are shrouded in a wintry cloud—the corn has disappeared—the flocks retire—the trees are bereft of their foliage—the flowers lie scattered on the ground. Such, such is human life; thus we and our families fade! to-day in vigour—to-morrow in dust! Where are generations past? where are our ancestors? where our immediate predecessors? where our early associates, and many of the individuals that have enlivened our social hours in maturer life? Like the leaves which cluster on the ground in autumn, and almost obstruct the path of the traveller, they seem to have dropped in quick succession, and to lie in faded heaps on the road that leads into eternity. And, alas! with an indifference too nearly resembling that which is apparent in the unheeding passenger, who tramples autumnal foliage beneath his feet, we tread on the graves of departed ages, and neglect to imitate the example of the pious dead.

Pause and reflect, "we all do fade." Whatever our circumstances or connections, the inevitable dominion of death extends over all. The leaves may occupy a higher or a lower station on the tree, they may be suspended on the loftiest or the lowliest branches—but they all drop off; and we may be rich or poor, learned or illiterate, young or old, the house of the grave is "appointed for all living." Providence in mercy permits the union of families long to remain unbroken; and, at length, in mercy too—whatever the suggestions of despondency—dissolves it. The parent expires, and the children follow; till, perhaps, the name only survives, like a tree bared to the storm of winter thrown down by the blast, and at length rotting into dust.

Mournfully fascinating, however, and instructing as these considerations appear, they must not divert us longer from the narrative. Naomi, at the distance of ten years, cherished a constant anxiety respecting what passed in Israel; and, weaned by repeated trials, if not still more so by Moabitish idolatry, from her present situation, she heard with pleasure, "that the Lord had visited his people, in giving them bread:" upon which she determined to return, and take her two daughters-in-law with her into Judea. This secondary kindred often proves a source of the most unhappy jealousies and animosities in domestic life, but the harmony in which these women lived, and with which they concerted measures for their removal, indicated at least the goodness of all their dispositions. They were, besides, in equal distress. Affliction, in almost every form, is beneficial in its tendency; and nothing is more calculated to strengthen mutual attachment than common calamity.

How often is distress, similar to this, aggravated by unkindness! Moroseness on the one part, and undutifulness on the other, excite the mother-in-law against the daughter-in-law, and the daughter-in-law against the mother-in-law; whereas reason, religion, and even self-love, require a different conduct. The poverty of Naomi was no objection to Orpah and Ruth to accompany her in her departure from Moab; but at once, abandoning every minor or selfish consideration, they prepared to attend her unprotected way. They would not suffer her to drink alone of the bitter cup, but resolved to encourage her by sharing it.

A bitter cup indeed it was. Who can imagine, without a painful sympathy, the situation of three friendless women, each a widow, and quitting a country where they left behind so many sad recollections! There they had lost the dearest of earthly connections, who, had they been preserved to this hour, would have soothed their sorrows, sustained their spirits, and accompanied their journey! The voice of parental and conjugal tenderness was silent in the grave! Their natural timidity had no shelter—their tears were wiped away by no kind hand—their steps were supported by no sustaining arm—the world was a barren wilderness before them—they seemed to be alone, as after a ship-wreck—and they had no immediate refuge but in themselves, and—for there was still another hope, an observant friend, a helper to the needy in his distress—in GOD!

Having proceeded a short distance, Naomi, overwhelmed with a sense of the disinterested kindness of her daughters-in-law, even more than with her own affliction, begged them to leave her, and return to their respective homes. She adverts to their past amiable and affectionate conduct; and severe as parting would prove to her maternal heart, she wished them still to be happy in the Sand of their nativity. Commending them to the benediction of the God of Israel, and expressing her desire for their happiness in the formation of future connections, "she kissed them" in token of a long and last farewell.

What fondness and what agony blended in that embrace! What a separation! It was no moment for words; the lovely daughters could only weep! A thousand past endearments recurred to their memory, a thousand uncertainties springing from the bosom of futurity, presented themselves to their minds. They had cherished a mutual esteem—they were blended into one in feeling, in interest, in all that can render life desirable. Their dark path had hitherto been enlightened by the beam of affection;—and was the sun to set upon their day for ever?

Alas! what a land of mourning is this! what heart-rending separations are we called to experience on earth; and what an hour of parting from the tenderest of connexions will soon arrive, when, death interposing his authority to break the ties of nature and of friendship, we must bid adieu to those who would indeed gladly accompany us, but must survive to walk alone in the wilderness.

We are, however, attributing too much to this formidable power. He may break the ties of nature—but he cannot dissolve the union of Christian friendship. The pious shall meet again in a region uninfested by malignity, and where the long annals of everlasting ages shall record no day of separation, and no instance of death.

It was kind, it was disinterested, it was maternal, in Naomi to propose this parting; but they were not to be persuaded. As soon as tears permitted utterance, they exclaimed, "Surely we will return with thee unto thy people."—"We have taken our resolution, and cannot depart from it. To go with thee is indeed a trial—but to go from thee is incalculably worse. Thou shall not be forsaken. We will be inseparable." Naomi remonstrated, and kindly repeated her commands. She called them daughters, an appellation they had well merited by their ardent and unabated attachment, earnestly entreating them to "turn again; and" intimating that they could not reasonably entertain a hope of her having sons whom they might marry, and therefore they could not accompany her without detriment to themselves. She was afflicted at the idea of their being widows in the days of their youth; and especially that, for her sake, they should continue in so solitary a condition, voluntarily resigning to her comfort the joys of connubial love.

Again they wept—but from this moment, Orpah and Ruth take a different course. The former fails in her resolution, embraces her mother-in-law, and returns; the latter "cleaves to her," and remains the solitary example of unconquerable affection, the heroine of the future narrative.

In the character of Orpah, we perceive an exemplification of that imperfect obedience which characterizes those who have been induced to pay some degree of attention to the gospel of Christ, but who have been influenced by certain subordinate motives to retrace their steps. She contemplated future poverty with alarm, and cannot be exculpated from a charge of secretly preferring the service of Chemosh, the Moabitish god, to the service of Jehovah. Her affection for Naomi had, perhaps, induced her hitherto to dissemble; and though she persevered to a considerable extent, when the final resolution was to be taken, she paused—hesitated —trembled—and drew back. She could not part with all for this service. In the days of Christ, many treated him with respect, listened to his words, admired, and like the young ruler, even wished to become his follower, but excited the best hopes only to disappoint them. Happy, thrice happy, they who take up the cross, and follow him through much tribulation; nobly resisting the allurements of the world, the demands of earthly friendship, and even the interdictions of human authority, for the sake of Christ and his gospel! The martyr's crown awaits them, for they display the martyr's spirit.

At a superficial glance, the address of Naomi to Ruth, upon this occasion, seems altogether extraordinary; "Behold, thy sister-in-law is gone back unto her people, and unto her gods; return thou after thy sister-in-law." Did she then really wish to urge this young widow to imitate the conduct of her sister, not only in returning to her relations, but to the service of the gods of Moab? Whatever opinion she entertained of her daughter-in-law's piety, could she really be desirous of placing her in circumstances of such temptation and danger? This supposition would be at least uncharitable, and contradicts probability. It was rather a trial of her sincerity in religion, and an evidence of her determination to use no compulsory measures, not even maternal influence, to coerce her conscience. Her language was, besides, premonitory and warning, similar to the permission given to Balaam, who though apparently admonished to go and curse Israel, was really interdicted.

Ruth received the appeal in a manner worthy of her character, and the most satisfactory to Naomi. "Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee; for whither thou goest I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me and more also, if aught but death part thee and me." If the pious origin of this attachment were not sufficiently apparent, we should be tempted to call it romantic; but founded as it was in religion, we must contemplate it as a rare specimen of a perfection in friendship, scarcely ever attained in the cold and chilling atmosphere of this world. Nothing could have so ripened and matured it, but the beamings of heavenly love, which rendered even an unfriendly soil productive of so choice a fruit.

Notwithstanding the indigent circumstances of Naomi, her daughter-in-law persisted in accompanying her, and thus voluntarily chose affliction with the people of God in preference to hereditary affluence and distinction. With deliberate resolution, and persevering consistency, she adhered to her purpose, calculating upon all the inconveniences that might result, but not fearing them. She turned her back upon the glory of the world, neither dreading its frowns nor soliciting its patronage. She knew that she could live happily without human applause, but not without divine approbation. Her early prejudices were subdued by principle, and she felt no hesitation in discarding the gods of Moab to procure the love of the God of Israel. In fact she did choose the path of true honour and renown. The servant of God is the greatest character in the universe, and will eventually be exalted to a situation which will fully and for ever disclose the perfect nothingness of terrestrial glory, and the shadowy nature of all that mortals have been deluded to imagine substantial.

This part of the history may serve to suggest the beneficial inquiry, whether we habitually cherish an equal zeal for our religion, with that which this young Moabitess manifested? It would be easy to descant upon the superiority of our advantages, and to urge our increased responsibility; but do we equal her in the firmness of our faith, and the steadfastness of our profession? It may not be a question, whether we are likely to be called to similar or equal trials; but the most important consideration is, whether through the grace of God we stand prepared for whatever trials await us in the path of duty; and whether, with fewer difficulties and greater advantages, we at least display an equal decision of character? We have Sabbaths—do we keep them? We have Bibles—do we read them? We have religious and social opportunities—do we improve them? We have pious friends—do we, like Ruth, cleave to them? Do we come out from the world, and are we separate, saying to the church of Christ, and adhering to our purpose, "We will go with you, for we have heard that God is with you?" Association is a test of character. The companion exhibits the man.

Candour and sincerity may be recommended from this example, as the best policy. We should not be ashamed of our religion: an open avowal, like that of Ruth, which prevented any farther importunity to return to the idolatries of Moab, is calculated to prevent a thousand perplexities into which the wavering, the timid, and the dissembling, inevitably fall. Persons of this description fail in every respect. They dissatisfy both parties, sacrifice their own peace of mind, and incur all the pains, without securing any of the pleasures of genuine piety. Hesitating between a sense of duty and an inclination to sin, trembling amidst conflicting attractions and opposing interests, they never attain to dignity of character or repose of spirit. They lie at the mercy of every foe, of every passion, of every change. Without the pilotage of principle, they know not what course to take, and are every moment in danger of a fatal wreck. "He that wavereth is like a wave of the sea, driven with the wind and tossed! ... A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways."

It is unquestionably a duty devolving on all who believe in Christ, to "confess him;" and to this candid avowal he has himself attached, not only the purest felicities on earth, but the honour of a public acknowledgment of their persons and services before assembled ages in the day of judgment, together with a final admission into the paradise of his presence. It is indeed criminal to profess attachment to him when we do not feel it, and it is also highly improper to cherish such an attachment without daring to avow it. If the former must be characterized as hypocrisy, the latter cannot be exculpated from the charge of sinful timidity; if the one be presumptuous boldness, the other is unholy fear.

To avow our principles, on all suitable occasions, with unshrinking firmness, is essential to integrity, and distinctly claimed by religion. The worldly motives which influenced some of the chief rulers in the days of our Lord, if not to disavow, at least to withhold their public concurrence with his doctrines, are mentioned in the gospel to their everlasting dishonour. They are not exhibited as specimens of violent hostility, but of that spirit of neutrality which resulted from political feelings, and which, being no less deemed a real enmity, will receive its appropriate condemnation. "Nevertheless, among the chief rulers also many believed on him; but because of the Pharisees they did not confess him, lest they should be put out of the synagogue. For they loved the praise of men more than the praise of God."

This kind of preference seems to be the result of strange infatuation, the origin of which demands a serious inquiry. In part, it may be accounted for from the impression which sensible and near objects produce on the mind, in comparison with those which are less obvious and more distant. Visible things attract attention, while those which are invisible, being placed beyond the sphere of sense, remain unnoticed. An object which is really greater, appears less when it is more remote. Eternity seems, in human estimation, extremely distant; its crown of glory afar off; all the possessions of the New Jerusalem disappear from view, when covered with the mists of futurity. We are easily affected by loud applauses, gay scenes, and temporal good. The secret whispers of an approving conscience are less audible, the smiles of God less perceptible to a depraved and earthly mind. In addition to which, temporal inconveniences or dangers are frequently connected with a conduct which secures the approbation of God; a criminal apprehension of which produces indifference and distaste for religion. When the choice lies between shame, poverty, affliction, the sacrifice of worldly interest, and even death itself in the one balance—and temporal distinction, affluence, ease, advancement, in the other—many will hesitate, with Agrippa, few determine, with Moses. In the present history one was taken, the other left. The experiment has been since sufficiently tried upon a large scale, and proofs are perpetually accumulating, that the temper and conduct of Orpah were coincident with those of the great majority in the world.

The narrative of the journey to the place of Naomi's early residence, is comprised in one short sentence; "So they two went until they came to Bethlehem." We are left in ignorance of those circumstances which curiosity would wish to explore in so remarkable a removal. Who can doubt, that in a distance of at least one hundred and twenty miles over mountains and rivers, these female travellers, unprotected, friendless, on foot, and seeking day by day a precarious assistance from the wild luxuriancy of nature, or the occasional hospitality of the stranger, must have encountered repeated perils, and often deemed themselves irretrievably lost. But there was an eye that watched them, of whose observance they were not ignorant; an arm that protected them, on whose powerful support they leaned by faith, and leaned not in vain. He can never be destitute who has God for his father; he can never be lost, in whatever region he wanders, who has God for his guide! In the adventurous journey of life take his proffered aid, ye children of adversity! repose in his goodness, having committed your way to him, ye widowed mourners! while God is on his throne, ye cannot inhabit a fatherless world, ye cannot be destitute of efficient aid! "A Father of the fatherless, and a Judge of the widows, is God in his holy habitation."

In a small town, like Bethlehem, the arrival of these strangers would naturally awaken inquiry. After an absence of ten years, the inhabitants probably never expected to see Naomi again. Such is the vicissitude of human affairs, that within a few years many strange mutations occur, even in places of no great extent. Of her former friends or acquaintances, some were, no doubt, consigned to the grave; and her own appearance and circumstances were so altered since her departure, that the voice of friendship, the congratulation of love, seems to have subsided into the idle language of wonderment, "Is this Naomi?"

It is—but the mention of her name is a caustic to the wounds of her heart. The endearments attached to that beloved and significant appellation are fled with departed time, and Bethlehem no longer beholds her in a situation to command respect, to excite envy, or to purchase attention. Her husband, her children, are no more!—one, one only comfort remains—one friend, one solace in adversity—one ray of light in the dark hour! Amidst universal desertion, RUTH has not forsaken her; but is become her joy in sorrow, her companion in solitude, her prop in decrepit age! Can we wonder that she wishes to discard a name which awakened such recollections, and only recalled the dream of happiness? "Call me not Naomi,—call me Mara; for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me. I went out full, and the Lord hath brought me home again empty; why then call ye me Naomi, seeing the Lord hath testified against me, and the Almighty hath afflicted me?"

There is something in these words which charity requires us to excuse. If, under the peculiar circumstances in which she was at present placed, the name of NAOMI, which signifies pleasant, distracted her, and she wished rather to adopt that of Mara, importing bitterness, her impatience must not be interpreted in the worst sense. After long absence, it is natural to anticipate a return home, and a rush of joy pervades even unfeeling minds, when the spire of their native village, the smoke of their native hamlet, especially the roof of their native cottage, first strikes upon the sight. Friends, family, neighbours, early scenes and pleasures, recur with a force which gives the air of enchantment to the long-lost scene. But every feeling of this nature was, in the case of Naomi, checked by different associations; the darkness of the sepulchre converted this day into midnight, and this lovely spot into a desolate wilderness!

There is, moreover, something in Naomi's remonstrance, which sympathy would lead as to pity, and experience, in some degree, to blame. She commits an evident mistake in attributing the dispensations she had suffered, to a testimony against her on the part of the supreme Disposer. Viewing past events through the discolouring medium of present affliction, and incapable of perceiving their secret and concurrent design, she forms a conclusion, which is rather the effect of temporary depression of mind, than of a settled conviction of judgment. We cannot doubt, indeed that the impression was evanescent; but it seems allied to that of the impatient patriarch, who exclaimed, "All these things are against me." That eminent servant of God enjoyed the privilege of living to a period in which the divine purposes were fully developed, and of seeing that what he deemed hostile circumstances, were really conducive to the most wise and felicitous results. Had Jacob departed during the interval, and while the mysterious plan was yet unaccomplished, his grey hairs would have gone down with sorrow to the grave, and the cloud of mystery would have been suspended over his dying hour. Such is the usual lot of the righteous. Life, in general, does not afford a space sufficiently ample, a period sufficiently protracted, for the complete execution of the great purposes of Infinite Goodness with regard to our real interests; and we murmur, because we cannot penetrate his arrangements. Patience, however, should be supported by the consideration that either in this, or in a future state of existence, the day of satisfactory explanation will arrive.

But there is a sentiment pervading the whole of this appeal, which, notwithstanding its partial defects, piety must warmly approve. Every thing is imputed to "the Lord." Naomi sees his hand in whatever occurrence she has witnessed. To him she imputes the fulness of her prosperity, and the emptiness of her adversity. In every change, in every place, she beholds and bows, to the ALMIGHTY. When this is happily the prevailing sentiment, the storm of angry passions will soon subside, the murmurings of discontent cease, and the clear shining of comfort break forth from behind the cloud.

"The Lord God omnipotent reigneth." This is enough! Angels and blessed spirits shall not monopolize the strain of gratitude and acknowledgment. Mortal voices shall join immortal harps, saying, "HALLELUJAH!"

SECTION II.

Time of the Return to Bethlehem—Ruth offers to go and glean—Dispositions indicated by this proposal—she happens upon the Field of Boaz—his Kindness—their Conversation—additional Favours—Ruth's return Home—Her Mother-in-law's wish to connect her in Marriage with Boaz—the Measures she suggests, and which her daughter adopts with ultimate Success—their Marriage—Birth of a Son—concluding Remarks,

Tales of fictitious wo, and of splendid distress, may alone be capable of fascinating those who recline on the lap of luxury, and who seek amusement, without soliciting instruction; but, among persons who possess any taste for genuine simplicity, any delight in the sacred employment of tracing the operations of infinite wisdom in the works of Providence, any desire for their own mental and spiritual improvement, and who have not yet learned of dissipated folly to despise

"The short and simple annals of the poor;"

the remaining circumstances of the narrative introduced into the preceding chapter, cannot fail of exciting interest.

That God, who promised Noah, that "while the earth remaineth, seed-time and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night, shall not cease;" and who "visits the earth and waters it, greatly enriching it with the river of God which is full of water, and prepares them corn when he has so provided for it;" having at this period dispensed fertility to the fields of Bethlehem, the humble travellers from Moab chose, or rather, were appointed by a superior influence to return in the season of barley-harvest. This was probably at the commencement of the month of May. [21]

But whither shall the wretched fugitives turn for assistance and support? It was indeed a time of plenty, but they were in extreme poverty. Golden harvests waved around them, but having no fields to reap, they were sorrowful amidst universal gladness, and depended upon precarious means of subsistence.

Ruth proposed to her mother-in-law to allow her to go and glean in any field where she could obtain the permission of the proprietor; to which Naomi readily consented. As a Moabite, she was probably ignorant, that what she regarded as a favour, was bestowed upon the needy as a right by the God of Israel. "When thou cuttest down thine harvest in thy field, and hast forgot a sheaf in the field, thou shall not go again to fetch it: it shall be for the stranger, for the fatherless, and for the widow; that the Lord thy God may bless thee in all the work of thine hands." This law is more than once repeated, and Ruth had a peculiar claim upon the liberality of its provisions, as uniting all the three species of wretchedness in her individual case. She was indeed a stranger, an orphan, and a widow.

The proposal of Ruth upon this occasion is, in many respects, illustrative of her estimable character. It furnishes a specimen of that respectful treatment which is due from the younger relative, to those whom venerable age and long experience have rendered their superiors. She would do nothing without Naomi; but consults her wishes, and seeks her concurrence in attempting to procure subsistence by means which she deemed the best adapted to their present poverty. A churlish temper would have submitted with extreme reluctance, and many taunting reproaches to what might easily have been represented as the drudgery and degradation of the gleaner's field; but this excellent daughter-in-law displayed a spirit most worthy of imitation.

Her reflecting kindness may be recommended to the notice of the inconsiderate and unfeeling. Offering herself to the laborious but necessary service, she is far from hinting any wish that Naomi should either accompany her to the field, or take measures to spare her, by seeking the aid of her richer relations, or the casual contributions of others. She wished to extend her support to the wearied and decaying nature of her beloved relative, and to use every possible exertion to alleviate her anxieties, to minister to her comfort, and to assist her infirmity. "Let me now go to the field." Amiable, generous, kindhearted woman! Thou wert anxious to procure for thy poor, afflicted, aged mother, all the repose which her advanced life seemed to require, to wipe away the tear from her dimmed eye and farrowed cheek, and as far as possible, to dissipate the clouds that hovered about the setting beam of her earthly existence!

If there be one scene of domestic life pre-eminently attractive, it is that of a lovely daughter manifesting a promptitude and zeal to alleviate the sorrows, and to aid the weekness of a parent, by those nameless and numberless assiduities which bespeak a genuine affection. Her own works praise her, and the mere flatterer's tongue is awed into respectful silence. How deplorable is it to witness the impatience of some young persons who think every little exertion an insufferable effort, a trouble, and a fatigue; and who forget the maternal fondness which cherished their infancy, the wakefulness that guarded their sickness, the love that never slept.

As Ruth was characterized by a virtuous sensibility, the proposal she made distinguished her also as active and industrious. Although her mother-in-law was advanced in years, she being in the vigour of her days, determined to devote her health and strength to procure subsistence. She did not waste her time in complaining, or sit down in a state of inactive despondency; but was alive to the duties of her lowly station. The poorest individual, who cheerfully fulfils his obligations, and exerts himself by an honest industry to maintain himself and his family, is inexpressibly more respectable in a wise man's estimation, than pampered luxury lolling on the couch of indulgence, and dreaming away existence in slothfulness and pomp. Real worth unquestionably consists in the proper occupation of that sphere, whatever it may be, which Providence has assigned us: and that person who is "not slothful in business," but "fervent in spirit, serving the Lord," secures the esteem of the good, and what is infinitely more important, the approbation of God. Idleness is no less a perversion of the designs of nature, than detrimental to our personal happiness. It not only renders its unhappy devotees useless to society, but burthensome to themselves. All beings, through every gradation of existence, from the toiling emmet to the flaming angel, are formed for activity and exertion. Nor ought we, who are privileged to live under the Christian dispensation, to forget, that Jesus Christ himself, by his humble appearance and lowly occupation, as the Son of a carpenter, has elevated honest industry to a just and honourable distinction.

Accidentally, so far as related to herself, Ruth went and gleaned in the field of Boaz; but she was guided by an invisible hand. This proprietor was a man of great opulence, and a relative of Naomi. Coming from Bethlehem to his reapers, and having exchanged their mutual salutations according to the pious custom of the times, [22] he inquired of the superintendent, or steward, the name of the young woman he observed gleaning amongst the sheaves. Ruth, it appears, attracted his particular notice. Even a superficial reader might be struck with the astonishing providential coincidences in this story; and nothing but the most perverse infidelity can refuse to admit, that the God who had conducted this interesting widow from Moab to Bethlehem, and from Bethlehem into the field of the reapers, guided the steps and awakened the solicitude of Boaz on this occasion.

"And the servant that was set over the reapers answered and said, It is the Moabitish damsel that came back with Naomi out of the country of Moab. And she said, I pray you let me glean and gather after the reapers among the sheaves; so she came, and hath continued even from the morning until now, that she tarried a little in the house." The rich are frequently reluctant to acknowledge their poor connections, and in the great majority of instances, a discovery like this would rather have averted than conciliated the regards of an affluent proprietor from the humble individual he found to be the daughter-in-law of his indigent relative. Superior, however, to unwarrantable prejudices and ridiculous vanity, Boaz listened to the tale and immediately addressed her in affectionate terms. It is by no means improbable, that a blush of shame crimsoned his cheek, from the recollection of his past negligence in suffering Naomi to pine away in solitary sadness and penury, when it was in his power to have afforded her relief. Reasons might have existed to justify this delay, though they must have been very imperious to furnish even a plausible pretence for such indifference; but the best construction we can put upon his conduct is to suppose, that, like many worthy and benevolent men, he was dilatory in the execution of measures which he might have planned to discover and relieve the necessities of his kindred. The law of love was in his heart; he hastened to make reparation, and kindly enjoined her to glean in no other field, to keep fast by his own female servants, and to drink whenever she chose out of the vessels which were replenished from time to time for his reapers. He further issued orders to the young men employed in his service, to show every kindness, and to observe the utmost decorum towards her, upon pain of his displeasure.

It is observable, that Boaz addressed her by the tender epithet of daughter, adopting the language while he displayed the affection of a parental protector. Ruth had forsaken every Moabitish friend and relative, to share the fortunes of Naomi. Her birth-place, her home, her connections, all were relinquished for the privileges of her new relationship and adopted country, although to her eye nothing was presented but poverty and want. But her loss was gain; in Naomi she found a mother—in Boaz a father—in Bethlehem a home—in Judaism the religion of heaven, and the way to God. And shall they be eventually losers, who forsake all things for Christ and his gospel? Listen, ye youthful readers of either sex, and be wise—"Every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive a hundred-fold, and shall inherit everlasting life."

The reply of Ruth is singularly expressive of her characteristic modesty, humility, and goodness, The wealthy proprietor of the field had unexpectedly discovered in one word the history of this stranger: but she was wholly ignorant of the string that had been touched, and with artlessness replies, "Why have I found grace in thine eyes, that thou shouldest take knowledge of me, seeing I am a stranger?" This is equally the language of astonishment and gratitude. Little did she imagine the mighty consequences of this casual interview, or the real origin of this extraordinary kindness. Her susceptible and affectionate heart would have acknowledged the smallest favour, while some, and unhappily too often, the most dependent and the most indulged of the children of indigence seem scarcely thankful for the greatest obligations. It ought not to prevent our charity, but it may well excite our surprise, to find that needy persons are sometimes disposed to claim as a right what is bestowed as a boon.

Boaz intimated that the principal circumstances of her past life had come to his knowledge, and conveyed the most delicate commendation into her modest ear. He said, that he was aware of her whole behaviour to Naomi, with the sacrifice she had made of her native land and connections, and pronounced upon her an affectionate, solemn, and pious benediction: "The Lord recompense thy work, and a full reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings thou art come to trust." To the same refuge from painful convictions and impending judgments may every reader instantly repair, embracing, by a devout faith, that glorious Light of the world, and Saviour of men, who was prefigured, in all the splendours of his love, by that miraculous brightness which shone between the wings of the cherubim in the ancient temple, and pointed the Jewish worshipper to "God manifest in the flesh."

Virtually disclaiming the praise which the opulent stranger had conferred, and far from imagining that she deserved, or had reason to expect any reward of God for conduct which she considered as no other than what a proper sense of duty demanded, Ruth thought herself honoured in the notice which she had received, respectfully acknowledged the condescension, and solicited its continuance. "Let me find favour in thy sight, my lord; for that thou hast comforted me, and for that thou hast spoken friendly unto thine handmaid, though I be not like unto one of thine handmaidens." Boaz repeats every kind assurance, invites her to share the rural repast, to "eat of the bread, and dip her morsel in the vinegar;" and with his own hand plentifully supplies her with "parched corn."

The sentiments of this excellent woman for the comparatively trifling kindness of her kinsman, may serve to reprove our cold returns, our disproportionate gratitude to the Supreme Benefactor, who daily loads us with temporal benefits, and constantly replenishes the cup of spiritual blessing; he, indeed, "comforts us;" in his word he "speaks friendly to us;" and we have, individually, abundant reason to confess, "I am not worthy of the least of all the mercies and of all the truth which the Lord has showed unto his servant."

The rural repast being ended, and Ruth having withdrawn into the field to pursue the humble labour of gleaning, which necessity and affection for an aged parent alike concurred to prompt, Boaz enjoined his reapers not only to allow her to glean, and to glean among the sheaves, but to "let fall some of the handfuls on purpose for her, and leave them that she may glean them, and rebuke her not." Her real thankfulness and amiable diffidence procured her these additional favours, and seem to have inspired the noble benefactor with a feeling which was afterward matured into love and consolidated in marriage. Let the poor beware of that cold indifference in the reception of benefits which freezes up the stream of benevolence, and chills the heart of the most liberal friend; let them equally avoid that forwardness which seems to demand, rather than to solicit kindness. Boaz, on this occasion, enjoyed a Double feast; with condescending familiarity he partook the frugal meal with his labourers, encouraging them by his presence and piety; with pleasure he fed the hungry stranger, cheerfully dispensing a portion of what he thankfully received from the Lord of all, whose bounty had enriched his possessions, and thus enjoying the luxury of doing good: this was indeed to his benevolent spirit, a feast which all the wealth of a Croesus could not otherwise have procured.

Boaz may be exhibited as a specimen of that prudential charity which should always regulate our distributions. He might have supplied Ruth at once from his ample repository of grain, or from the sheaves of the golden harvest; but he chose, on the contrary, to encourage her industry, though he kindly mitigated her toil. Indiscriminate gifts may rather favour idleness than relieve necessity; and it is as much a duty to see to the mode of distributing help to the needy, as to render them the requisite aid: besides which, the poor are more likely to value and to use properly what has been industriously acquired, than what is lavishly, however, as to its principle, benevolently communicated. Alleviate the toil of the necessitous, but do not prevent their useful employment of time and means. Industry is the law of the universe; and the Supreme Disposer of human affairs has appointed that "in the sweat of his face man should eat bread till he return unto the ground."

To Ruth this was one of the happiest evenings of a life which had been chequered with vicissitude, and of late particularly beclouded with, sorrow. How different were the feelings with which she returned to the cottage of her mother-in-law from those which afflicted her bosom when she quitted it in the early part of this memorable day.

Distressed and friendless she had gone forth; "not knowing whither she went," anxious only to procure some scanty subsistence for the day to satisfy the cravings of appetite, and to sustain the weakness of her dear and aged relative; but she returned laden with the spoils of the harvest field, an ephah of barley; she had been noticed by a very liberal proprietor of the soil, and invited to continue gleaning in his field. With what heartfelt satisfaction did she present the fruits of her first-day's exertion at the feet of Naomi, and sit down to share that kind of comfort to which Solomon has so strikingly alluded—"Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox, and hatred therewith."

What family in Bethlehem was so truly blessed as these two poor women? Where, in the whole city, was concentrated so many sweet enjoyments, so many pure unsophisticated pleasures as met beneath this dwelling? Who would not rather turn into that lowly door, and listen to the inspired record of the conversation which took place between, its pious inmates, than hear the music which shakes the lordly roof, or witness the unmeaning gayety that riots in its apartments?—The good matron inquired where she had been gleaning; and seeing the ample supply she had procured, eagerly demanded where she had wrought: but unable, in the exultation and overflowings of her gratitude to wait for an answer, she pours forth her benedictions upon the unknown benefactor: "Blessed be he that did take knowledge of thee!" Her daughter informed her it was BOAZ; a name welcome to her ear, and calculated to kindle a hope in a bosom long filled with distracting griefs: she was reminded of former favours: she remembered his constant friendship to her family, and uttered an instantaneous supplication to Heaven for blessings upon his head. Unable herself to requite his kindness, she well knew who could recompense it, and therefore prayed, "Blessed be he of the Lord, who hath not left off his kindness to the living and to the dead!"

Such is the commerce between the benevolent rich and the pious poor; the former bestows subsistence, the latter blessings. How miserable, how deservedly miserable is an incommunicative selfishness! Happy the man who can say with Job, "When the ear heard me then it blessed me; and when the eye saw me it gave witness to me: because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me, and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy. I was a father to the poor."

With what astonishment must Ruth have heard, "The man is near of kin unto us, one of our next kinsmen!" but she did not arrogantly assume her right to what she had received, or, presuming upon the dignity of her relationship, propose to make immediate application for that support which he was so well able to afford: this would have been the first thought of an ordinary or a selfish mind. On the contrary, she expatiates, with a satisfaction which heartfelt gratitude and pre-eminent goodness alone could have inspired, upon the marked attention of Boaz—"He said unto me also, Thou shall keep fast by my young men until they have ended all my harvest." Naomi advised her to accept this bounty, lest, by gleaning in any other field she might seem to undervalue the permission, or to cherish an offensive dependency of spirit. With her characteristic meekness, Ruth assented, continuing to pursue her mean occupation during the weeks of harvest, and returning every evening to share with Naomi her humble cot and her scanty fare.

During all this time, the mind of the affectionate mother-in-law was meditating a plan to promote the future happiness of her daughter. Past the period of marriage herself, she knew that Ruth might yet adorn, as well as obtain an accession of comfort from such a connection. If the young woman were satisfied with her obscurity, and content to provide a precarious subsistence for herself and her venerable relative by the labour of her hands, Naomi was superior to that selfishness which would rather have aimed to retain her in perpetual subserviency to her convenience, than seek to augment her joys, advance her interests, and raise her to her proper sphere of usefulness. Having made every possible sacrifice to her and her religion, she deemed it the part of maternal kindness to avail herself of the existing laws respecting matrimony, to connect her with the noble minded Boaz. This solicitude she took the first opportunity of expressing, and directed her to measures, which, if they appear extraordinary to us, might not have been unseemly or unusual at that period and in that country. A few years are sufficient to operate a complete revolution in existing customs; it cannot therefore be surprising, that the manners of another quarter of the globe, at the distance of more than thirty centuries, should essentially differ from our own. To judge of their propriety by our standard is manifestly absurd; and to make great allowances for the state of society is, in cases of extreme variation, obviously necessary. After all, the conduct of Naomi may not be capable of entire vindication; though we are certain it proceeded from a sentiment of pure affection, and was connected with important results in the order of Providence: it is, moreover, recorded without the slightest hint of disapprobation.

Ruth was directed by her mother-in-law to repair with the utmost secrecy to the threshing-floor; and, when Boaz, conformably to the simple manners of the age, retired to rest among the heaps of corn, to place herself at his feet. When be spoke, she was to answer frankly, and await the intimation of his will. She did so: Boaz made the inquiry, and promised all that a sense of her virtues and a knowledge of her rights dictated. The law authorized the present application on her part at the instigation of Naomi, in order that the possessions of the family might not be alienated. Kinsmen were required to intermarry, and in case of refusal the near relative was treated with the utmost public indignity. Boaz perfectly understood this legal claim; and, notwithstanding his evident partiality to Ruth, ingenuously informed her, "There is a kinsman nearer than I." If he performed the kinsman's part, law and piety required acquiescence; if not, he solemnly avowed his own resolution to do so. Ruth departed before it was light, and carried the intelligence home. Boaz availed himself of the earliest opportunity in the morning to bring the affair to a decision; he went up to the gate, stopped the relative to whom he had alluded as he was passing by, and appealed to ten of the elders of the city. He at first agreed to the redemption of some family inheritance which belonged to Naomi; but, upon intimation that if he purchased the land he must marry Ruth, he declined it, giving full permission to his relative to enter into this contract. The mutual regard subsisting between Boaz and Ruth rendered this a most welcome circumstance, and the former immediately called upon the elders and all the people who were assembled on the occasion, to hear witness to this, as a fair, public, and honourable transaction. "So Boaz took Ruth, and she was his wife."

In some cases, where the matrimonial connection has been founded upon a dereliction of principle, and formed in defiance of the suggestions of common prudence, of parental kindness, and even of the interdictions of Heaven itself, we feel compelled to express our grief, rather than offer our congratulations; but where, as in the present instance, the voice of nature harmonized with that of reason, conscience, and God, who can hesitate to approve the union, and to anticipate that delightful result which has been so well expressed in poetic numbers?

"Hail, wedded love! by gracious Heaven design'd, At once the source and glory of mankind! 'Tis this can toil, and grief, and pain assuage, Secure our youth, and dignify our age; 'Tis this fair fame and guiltless pleasure brings, And shakes rich plenty from its brooding wings; Gilds duty's roughest path with friendship's ray, And strews with roses sweet the narrow way."

If, in all the circumstances that lead to this union, the interpositions of Providence be not always, perhaps not frequently, so marked, incontrovertible, and striking, as in the history under consideration, let it never be forgotten, that such a wise and good superintendence really exists, and may, in every instance, be traced in some degree by the devout observer. If our ways be committed to the Lord, he will direct our paths. Amidst the ardour of youth, we are not always capable of discerning what is really obvious, or of fully believing what is infallibly true: but years teach wisdom; the developements of futurity often throw light upon the mysteries of the past; in the coolness and quiet of the eventide of life, and even before that period, how commonly do good men acknowledge the kindness of those once distressing dispensations that thwarted their juvenile susceptibility. In the adverse, as well as the prosperous events of the life of Ruth, she could perceive that "all things worked together for her good;" and no reflecting Christian will hesitate to appropriate the same sentiment to himself. A plan was laid in the divine mind, in the execution of which she often acted unconsciously: the birth, the education, the original circumstances and residence, the removal, the final elevation of Ruth, were all essential parts of the scheme, links in the chain of mercy; and the same may be affirmed respecting the life of every pious individual.

One circumstance demands particular notice. Neither in Boaz nor in Ruth can we discern the least symptom of precipitation; they suffered Providence to work its own way, to accomplish, without any obstruction from their unholy haste and heedlessness, its own purposes; in neither of them is discernible the least trace of a wish to seek their own gratification irrespectively of the will of Omniscience; they were in a sense passive, resigning themselves wholly to the disposal of God; they did not force a passage through intervening impediments with an indecent and impious resolution of spirit, as if they could not, or would not be happy excepting in their own way, but "waited patiently for the Lord."

Young persons sometimes attempt to outstrip Providence, and dare to chide its lingerings, or to murmur at its decisions; they set up for separate empire, and imagine they can create their own paradise; a conduct which ultimately proves as fatal to their comfort as it is now to their respectability. It is an advantage for young people of both sexes, which cannot be too highly appreciated, to have judicious, and especially parental advisers. Let them not impute their kind suggestions to the frigidity of age when they do not keep pace with their own warm feelings, but consider that they are likely to know more of the world, and to deserve their attention after amassing a stock of experience. Why should their good advice, or even their urgent importunity, be deemed officious or be treated with contempt? If mistaken, they are not, or ought not to be, peremptory. If not obliged to follow their opinion, young persons are certainly required, by every motive of duty, and even of self-interest, to hear it. Were it admitted that Ruth erred in some degree from her excessive obsequiousness to Naomi, yet her general spirit and temper merit the strongest encomium, the deepest study, and the closet imitation.

Tragical as was the commencement of this history, its termination presents a very different aspect. We beheld the family of Elimelech sinking fast in human apprehension into oblivion, and his name beginning to cease in Israel; we now witness its restoration and prosperity: it has emerged from its obscurity into splendour, and shines with imperishable glory on the page of inspiration. The aged tree, which time had well nigh lopped of every branch, sprouts out afresh, and shoots forth with new vigour and luxuriancy. We should learn never to despair of Providence, never to relinquish hope, never to imagine that "any thing is too hard for the Lord." Time, and change, and death, whatever revolutions they may occasion in general society or in individual families, not only cannot prevent, but, by their diversified operations, shall conduce to accomplish the purposes of Heaven. "Time and change," exclaimed Job, "are against me." True; but they cannot countervail Omniscience.

We naturally congratulate our favourites upon their prosperity; and the interest we must feel in the history of Ruth swells into the highest satisfaction upon reading the closing part of the narrative. We hear of the birth of Obed, who derives additional importance from the illustrious line of his descent. A few generations conduct immediately to the MESSIAH. All the neighbourhood celebrates the event, and we have equal reason to hail and proclaim it: "And the women said unto Naomi, Blessed be the Lord, which hath not left thee this day without a kinsman, that his name may be famous in Israel; and he shall be unto thee a restorer of thy life and a nourisher of thine old age: for thy daughter-in-law, which loveth thee, which is better to thee than seven sons, hath borne him. And Naomi took the child and laid it in her bosom, and became nurse unto it. And the women her neighbours gave it a name, saying, There is a son born to Naomi; and they called his name Obed: HE IS THE FATHER OF JESSE, THE FATHER OF DAVID."

Ordinary minds avoid, as much as possible, recurring to past periods of indigence and inferiority of station. Any reference to such circumstances is deemed offensive, by people of the world who have been elevated from low situations to opulence and rank, and whose arrogant nothingness proves they have descended in moral worth and real respectability exactly in proportion as they have risen in temporal distinction. But every thing we know of Ruth tends to convince us that, if a detailed account of her private life had been given, it would have been highly honourable to her sensibility and her piety. How often, and with what feelings, would she pace the field where, in the situation of a humble gleaner, she first met with Boaz. With what emotions would she trace and retrace her own eventful story! And especially, with what devout gratitude would she call to mind the days of her idolatry in Moab, and the happy era of her spiritual emancipation! In her own past character, in her infatuated sister's defection, what motives to praise would arise, and what tears of mingled pain and pleasure would she shed! And shall not we, who have "tasted that the Lord is gracious," cherish a sense of our obligations to redeeming mercy, and "remember all the way which the Lord our God hath led us these years in the wilderness, to humble us and to prove us, to know what was in our hearts, whether we would keep his commandments or no?" Sweet are the recollections of piety, and acceptable the offerings of a grateful mind! How inferior to these the trees of Lebanon in sacrifice, or all the spicy mountains of Arabia in a blaze! From what depths of sin, what delusions of mind, and what danger of soul, has "God in Christ" delivered us! "Once far off," we are now "brought nigh"—"sometimes darkness, now light in the Lord"—"you hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sins."

But far more exalted pleasures of memory and retrospection await the Christian in a future world. Having ascended above this cloudy spot into the glory of the divine presence, it will be his pleasing and privileged employment to retrace the events of past existence, when nothing but a remembrance of the struggles and conflicts of this mortal state will remain, to enhance the raptures of eternal victory. What is crooked will then be made straight, what is perplexing will become plain, what is unknown will be revealed. Amidst the songs of heaven it will heighten our blessedness to recollect the sorrows of earth as past—clothed in the robe of salvation and triumph, it will be grateful to recall the time when we wore the armour and strove in the field—arrived in port, it will be inexpressibly delightful to recur to the storm as then for ever gone by!



Deborah.

Chapter VIII.



SECTION I.

Historical retrospect—Deborah sitting as a Judge and Prophetess under a Palm-tree—Sends to Barak to Confront Sisera—Accompanies him— Preparations for Battle—Victorious Result—Death of Sisera—Reflections.

After the death of Joshua, which occurred in the hundred and tenth year of his age, and in the two thousand five hundred and seventy-eighth of the world, the people of Israel were in a very fluctuating, unsettled condition, having no regularly appointed governor; and the book of Judges, supposed to have been written by Samuel, exhibits a striking picture of the disorders incident to such a state of civil disorganization. "Let every soul," then, "be subject unto the higher powers;" remembering that, as "rulers are not a terror to good works, but to the evil," while we are properly submissive to their authority, we should be grateful to God for their appointment.

Although the Israelites, who had been commanded to extirpate the nations of Canaan, pursued their conquests for some time, they gradually relapsed into a neglectful inactivity, permitting the inhabitants of the land to remain in tributary subjection. Whatever personal objections they might feel, and whatever apparent contrariety there might have been between their views of strict justice and the explicit directions of Heaven, they were bound to execute the divine will with a prompt unhesitating compliance. If general rules of conduct were not perfectly superseded by the paramount authority of an express direction from God, the great principle of positive institutions would he annulled, and the prejudices, passions, and misconceptions of a fallible creature, might, in certain cases, interfere with the acts of supreme legislation. Though, to strengthen the principle of obedience, and, as far as possible, to render "a reasonable service," it may often be proper to inquire "why—" such is our present incapacity, or so profound and vast the mysteries of divine administration, that in general our inquiries must be limited to the great question, "what—is enjoined?" His conduct does not require our vindication, while his commands claim our obedience.

Nor does a rebellious spirit merely incur censure; it inevitably exposes to punishment. The people upon whom Israel neglected to execute the purposes of Infinite Justice, became, according to prophetic intimations, "snares and traps to seduce them to idolatry," and "scourges in their sides, and thorns in their eyes." They were in subjection eight years to Cushan, king of Mesopotamia, till judges, of whom Othniel was the first, and Samuel the last, were raised up for their deliverance.

After the signal interference of Heaven on their behalf, in the successes of their first judge, which terminated in a peace of forty years, the "children of Israel did evil again in the sight of the Lord, and the Lord strengthened Eglon, the king of Moab; against Israel," by whom they were enslaved eighteen years. After which, Ehud, a Benjamite, became their deliverer, by assassinating the king of Moab, and another peaceful interval of eighty years elapsed: but such was the strange perversity of this extraordinary nation, that they abused their prosperity, and again apostatized from God. Nor will it be difficult or unprofitable to trace in ourselves some striking points of resemblance to them, and in the divine conduct that same character of love and forbearance which marks his dispensations to his church in all the successive ages of time, "They were disobedient, and rebelled against thee, and cast thy law behind their backs, and slew thy prophets which testified against them to turn them to thee; and they wrought great provocations. Therefore thou deliveredst them into the hand of their enemies, who vexed them: and in the time of their trouble, when they cried unto thee, thou hearedst them from heaven; and according to thy manifold mercies thou gavest them saviours who saved them out of the hand of their enemies. But after they had rest, they did evil again before thee; therefore leftest thou them in the hand of their enemies, so that they had the dominion over them; yet when they returned and cried unto thee, thou hearedst them from heaven, and many times didst thou deliver them according to thy mercies; and testifiedst against them, that thou mightest bring them again unto thy law: yet they dealt proudly, and hearkened not unto thy commandments, but sinned against thy judgments, (which, if a man do, he shall live in them,) and withdrew the shoulder, and hardened their neck, and would not hear: yet many years didst thou forbear them, and testifiedst against them by thy spirit in thy prophets: yet would they not give ear; therefore gavest thou them into the hand of the people of the lands. Nevertheless, for thy great mercies' sake, thou didst not utterly consume them, nor forsake them; for thou art a gracious and merciful God."

Jabin, king of Canaan, was raised up by Providence to disturb that long period of national tranquillity already adverted to, during which the religious character of Israel had so much degenerated: and it must be admitted to evince the unfailing regard of their divine Protector, rather to inflict corrective chastisement upon his people, than to suffer them to proceed with unchecked eagerness in a course fatally injurious to their real interests. In every individual concern shall we not gratefully confess, that "whom the Lord loveth—he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he, receiveth?"

[Sidenote: Year before Christ, 1805 to 1235]

Jabin is said to have reigned in Hazor, a place situated, according to Josephus, in the tribe of Naphtali, on the lake Semechon. Joshua had reduced this place to ashes, and slew its former sovereign; but, probably, the present prince had availed himself of the criminal indolence of the Israelites to rebuild it. The captain of Jabin's army was Sisera, who was truly formidable; having, according to the inspired historian, nine hundred chariots of iron. This, for a petty prince of Canaan, was a most extraordinary force, by which Israel was kept under tyrannical domination for twenty years. Ardent cries were presented to Heaven in these critical circumstances; and he whose ears are ever open to the cries of the distressed, interposed by raising up an illustrious female to accomplish the plans of mercy. "And DEBORAH, a prophetess, the wife of Lapidoth, she judged Israel at that time." As no prophet is mentioned in Israel during their defection, this was a signal testimony of the divine favour upon their repentance; and while observing that out of the millions of Israel a woman was chosen to execute the great purposes of Heaven, we cannot but admire the inscrutable wisdom that appoints all persons to their stations, qualifies all agents for their particular instrumentality, and regulates all the movements of this lower world. Not a sparrow falls to the ground, nor an angel wings his flight, but in subserviency to the arrangements of an omniscient mind.

Deborah was a judge, as well as a prophetess; and a ruler over some, if not all their tribes. Some have supposed, that judges among the ancient Israelites resembled the Archons among the Athenians, and the Dictators among the Romans. The office was not hereditary, but conferred for life; and seems to have been considerably allied, although somewhat inferior, to royal authority.

We are struck with the simplicity of the age in which this prophetess and judge of Israel is represented as sitting under a palm-tree, to discharge her public and eminently important duties. It was between Rama and Bethel, in mount Ephraim. The subject is curious and interesting; we may, therefore, enter into some particulars.

The palm, or date-tree, is a native of Africa and the East, where it grows to the height of fifty or sixty, and occasionally a hundred feet. A cluster of branches issues from the top of it, eight or nine feet long, bending towards the earth, and extending all round in the form of an umbrella. The trunk is upright, and full of cavities, the vestiges of its decayed leaves, having a flat surface within, adapted to the human foot, and forming a kind of natural ladder, by which a person may easily ascend to the top. The lower part produces a number of stalks or suckers, which diffuse the tree considerably, and form a kind of bushy forest. This illustrates the scriptural term in the history of Deborah. "She dwelt under the palm-tree;" or, as it might be rendered, in a forest of palms. This tree was very common in Palestine. It abounded along the banks of Jordan, and particularly about Engeddi and Jericho; the latter place is designated, in Scripture, the city of palms.

"The extensive importance of the date-tree," says Dr. Clarke, "is one of the most curious objects to which a traveller can direct his attention. A considerable part of the inhabitants of Egypt, of Arabia, and Persia, subsist almost entirely upon its fruit. They boast also of its medicinal virtues. Their camels feed upon the date stone. From the leaves they make couches, baskets, bags, mats, and brushes; from the branches, cages for their poultry, and fences for their gardens; from the fibres of the boughs, thread, ropes, and rigging; from the sap is prepared a spirituous liquor: and the body of the tree furnishes fuel: it is even said, that from one variety of the palm-tree, the Phoenix farinifera, meal has been extracted, which is found among the fibres of the trunk, and has been used for food." [23]

In the East, it is very common for persons to live in tents, either entirely or during some of the most sultry seasons of the year. This was the patriarchal mode, and persons of considerable distinction are accustomed to pitch them for occasional residence. Mr. Harmer quotes Dr. Pococke as speaking of a pleasant place not far from Aleppo, where he met an Aga, who had a great entertainment there, accompanied with music under tents. Maillet mentions tents as things of course, in an account he gives of an Egyptian officer's taking the air with his lady in the neighbourhood of Cairo; and Chardin says, that Tahmasp, the Persian monarch, used to spend the winter at Casbin, and to retire in the summer three or four leagues into the country, where he lived in tents at the foot of Mount Alouvent, in a place abounding with cool springs and pleasant shades; and that his successors lived after the same manner until the time of Abas the Great, who removed his court to Ispahan. [24] It is sufficiently probable, therefore, that Deborah pitched her tent during a considerable period of the year, under some remarkable palm-tree which stood either alone, or in a forest of palms. There, for the purpose of convenient shelter in a sultry climate, and with primitive simplicity of mind and manners, she received the children of Israel who came to her for judgment, investigating their causes, and by her integrity and wisdom, promoting the happiness of her illustrious nation. The homage which mere external pomp compels is lighter than vanity, compared with that stirling solidity of character which no less ministers to the general good than to the individual's own reputation. He who rules over others, should aim to be enthroned in their affections; and they whom Providence calls to obey, should readily cherish, and, on all suitable occasions, express feelings of respect for their appointed rulers.

As the supreme magistrate of Israel, Deborah sent to Barak, of whom we know only that he was the son of Abinoam, and resided in Kedesh-Naphtali, requiring him to take ten thousand men of the tribes of Naphtali and Zebukin into the neighbourhood of mount Tabor; and, as a prophetess under supernatural influence of immediate inspiration, she assured him of the most perfect success against the hostile prepartions of Sisera. He was not only warranted to anticipate a decisive victory, but also the destruction of this celebrated general, of whom it was expressly affirmed that he should be "delivered into his hand."