PART II.

INFERENTIAL.

So far we have been employed in elucidating the principles which are involved in the terms of the inscription—which is enthroned in the front of the Royal Exchange,—THE EARTH IS THE LORD’S, AND THE FULNESS THEREOF. These words, taken alone, distinctly recognise the existence of God, Creation, and Providence. They express, or imply, through their own inherent and independent force, the acknowledgment of these great primary truths. In the course of our remarks, we have glanced at one or two of the clauses of the psalm immediately succeeding the words of the inscription; rather, however, as illustrative of the extent of its significance, than as bringing to it any additional thought. We now propose to take the acknowledgment, “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof,” in connexion _with the whole psalm of which it is the commencement, and the psalm itself in connexion with the whole revelation of which it is a part_; and thus to bring out those additional forms of both truth and duty, which the _scriptural_ recognition of God’s existence and government, and his general relations to the world and man, may come to suggest to a devout and reflective Christian observer.

I.

_Worship._

Immediately after the assertion of God’s proprietorship of the world and man, the psalmist inquires, “Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in his holy place?” Language this, which refers to the locality and the uses of the temple, as the appointed place of Divine service. The existence of God and the obligation to worship him, would seem to be associated by an indissoluble necessity. The two ideas, indeed, mutually involve and illustrate each other. Admit the Divine existence; it is felt to extend downwards into the domain of human duty, and to suggest and enforce the obligation of worship: admit the reality of the religious instinct, and mark its universal and irrepressible force,—it swells upwards and amounts to a proof of the existence of God. The Divine Being has not only set his glory above the heavens, and spoken of himself by the myriads of voices that are perpetually issuing from the earth and the sky; he has not only stamped his image and superscription on the personal and intellectual attributes of the race; but he has provided an unimpeachable witness for himself, in the religious constitution of human nature. If there is one thing more than another which forms the peculiar distinction of man, and which places him in secluded and solitary grandeur apart from all the tribes of sentient existence by which he is surrounded, it is his possession and consciousness of a religious capacity. It may show itself in grotesque or disgusting forms,—it may blunder in its search, and babble in its utterances,—it may even become ferocious and malignant in its character; but _there_ it is, _in_ man, and in him alone, manifested everywhere, active always, forming a palpable and _impassable_ distinction between his nature and that of all other creatures. The lower animals have senses and appetites similar to his; they can see and hear—they hunger and thirst; in many of them, indeed, some of the things that he and they possess in common, exist in greater acuteness and perfection in _them_ than they do in him; while others make approaches to thought and reason, memory and will, affection and passion; but none of them share with him the capacity to adore,—none of them can pray,—none but he can entertain the conception of an invisible power,—engage in individual, or unite in acts of social, devotion. It is the prerogative of man to be able to say either, “Our Father,” or “I believe.” Even if it were admitted that specimens of humanity have been found, or could be produced, utterly destitute of the religious capacity, and with nothing about them, when they gaze on the universe, beyond the vacant stare of unintelligent natures; and even if it were further asserted and acknowledged, that it was utterly impossible to awaken in them a sense or perception of anything Divine,—yet it would be found that _their children_ could be taught to comprehend and feel religious ideas,—that _they_ had within them the spiritual capacity,—from which it would be evident that _their fathers had originally possessed it too_. The religious instinct, then, or susceptibility, or faculty, or whatever it may be called, is inherent in human nature—divides and distinguishes it from all else in the wide world, though it may express itself in the grossnesses of superstition and idolatry, or may have sunk into dormancy in extraordinary cases; but neither old, nor young, of all the tribes of the inferior races,—the most sagacious or the most domesticated,—can be found to display, or be taught to comprehend, religion at all!

It is a simple fact, then, beyond all question, that humanity possesses this distinguishing attribute. All things beneath and around him seem to be made for man; but he is the subject of a strong, active, predominating impulse, that appears like a consciousness, on his own part, that _he_ is made for something else. This impulse finds utterance and embodiment in religious ideas and religious service. Now, it would be a strange anomaly in a world like this, in which every faculty of every creature finds its corresponding and appropriate object,—in which wing and hoof, scent and speed, eye and ear, hand and horn, powers and passions, appetites and attributes of all sorts, are fitted exactly to something that seems to be made for _them_, or for which _they_ are made,—it would be a strange thing, that the only exception to this law, should be in the Lord and Master of the world himself!—and that it should occur, too, just in that one faculty that at once distinguishes and dignifies him more than any other! The existence and actings of the religious instinct in man thus constitute a proof of the existence of God, just as the admitted existence of God involves the obligation to religion in man. The tendency in humanity “to feel after God if haply it may find him,”—and to _have_ something it may call God,—whether it succeed in finding him or not,—is demonstrative of a Divine objective reality answerable to itself, in the same way as the half-formed wings of a bird in the shell are proof of the existence of an external atmosphere, and of the ultimate destiny of the bird itself.

It is worth observing, too, that this duty of worship, which results from the truth professed in the acknowledgment that “the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof,” like the other things already mentioned, involves or illustrates the Divine _personality_. Worship, at the very least, is adoration and gratitude,—the utterance, generally in words, of thought and affection towards the Supreme Nature, as the subject of high attributes and the source of universal good;—exercises these, that can have no meaning, if that nature has no consciousness of its own perfections, and no knowledge of the language addressed to it. For man “to ascend into the hill of the Lord, and to stand and worship in his holy place,” He, to whom he approaches, must be a personal intelligence. Worship is the communion of mind with mind,—not only the sympathy of worshipper with worshipper, but the communion of each and of all with the worshipped. There can be no communion or sympathy with _a force_;—no intelligent adoration of a law; no affections can be warmed and excited, and drawn forth in psalm and song, towards a mere senseless physical power,—an unintelligent, mechanical necessity! Without a personal God, everything like worship is a mockery and a lie; the whole service is nothing but a masquerade. If worship could be conceived to be honestly attempted in connexion with the denial of God’s personal existence, it would be an attempt on the part of the worshippers to produce subjective states of mind by the conscious temporary assumption of a falsehood, and the employment upon themselves of a system of direct deception and imposture. The thing is impossible,—or impossible to be continued. There must either be the admission of a personal God as the object of worship, or worship itself will soon cease. _Our_ belief and persuasion as a people are recorded in the front of our Royal Exchange. We may adapt to the fact the beautiful words of the Book of Proverbs: “Wisdom crieth _without_; she uttereth her voice _in the streets_. She crieth _in the chief place of concourse_; in the CITY she uttereth her words, saying, ‘THE EARTH IS THE LORD’S, AND THE FULNESS THEREOF.’” And this publicly recorded persuasion,—this proclamation of our faith in the ears of all men, and our meaning it for the proclamation of the common and universal faith of humanity,—_this_ involves in it the corresponding duty,—the duty of _worshipping_ Him who is acknowledged as God,—the God of the whole earth,—and the duty of “_all_ that dwell therein.” “O thou that hearest prayer, _unto thee shall all flesh come_.” “The Lord reigneth, _let the earth rejoice_; let the multitude of isles be glad thereof.” “Sing unto the Lord a new song, sing unto the Lord, _all the earth_.” “Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, _all ye lands_. Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing. Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name.” “Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to _the children of men_.” “Praise the Lord, _all ye nations_; praise him, _all ye people_. For his merciful kindness is great toward us: and the truth of the Lord endureth for ever. PRAISE YE THE LORD.”

II.

_Character._

What stands next to the idea of worship, is a description of the moral character of the worshippers. “Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in his holy place?” “_He that hath clean hands and a pure heart: who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully._” This description is very brief, but it is very comprehensive. Each clause may be considered as representing a distinct and large department of duty; and the whole, taken together, as demanding or enforcing universal virtue. “_Clean hands_” stand as a figure for all outward and visible excellence. Every thing that the man _does_, is done in consistency with the rule of rectitude. He is a just, equitable, fair-dealing man. Confidence may be placed in his honour and uprightness, his incorruptible integrity, his contempt of meanness, and intolerance of wrong. Everything that belongs to a sound, solid, practical worth,—a pure, and even a fastidious, virtue,—a virtue beyond doubt or suspicion,—may be supposed to attach to the man who is said, by emphasis, to have “clean hands.” “_Not to swear deceitfully_,”—whatever may be its precise shade of meaning in the psalm,—may fairly be interpreted, in a discussion like this, as standing for honest and sincere speech, and as the type of the virtuous use of the tongue. It excludes from the idea of the character, deceit and falsehood, concealment and equivocation, with everything approaching to the _designed_ conveyance of a wrong impression by word or look. In buying and selling, in barter or bargain, in converse or correspondence,—in respect to whatever business he transacts, and in relation to every medium for thought—there is supposed to be, in the man before us, scrupulous propriety of language,—the utmost transparency of meaning and purpose. He is simple, straightforward, without the shadow of deceit or guile. Then, “_a pure heart_,” in addition to habitual “cleanness of hands,” and the maintenance of entire integrity of tongue, is intended to express, the co-existence of an upright _inward_ life, with the outward appearances of practical goodness. It would not only imply, however, the harmony of a man’s thoughts with his words,—and the correctness of the motives of his visible acts,—it would include in it, in its scriptural import, the government of the passions,—the control of the imagination,—sincerity and depth of religious feeling;—every thing not only chaste but devout, the whole soul liberated from gross and corrupting affections,—free from the drag and degradation of the flesh,—and fairly detached from the adhesions of earth, in all senses in which they would imply bondage to the sensual or the secular. “_Not to lift up the soul unto vanity_,” is intended to express the freedom of the man from idol-worship. The “vanities” of the heathen were the idols or deities whom the heathen adored; to whom they “lifted up their souls,”—or, in other words, to whom they rendered religious reverence, and before whom they appeared in worship. “Cleanness of hands,” then, “sincerity of speech,” “purity of heart,” with all that they include, in their seminal comprehensiveness, of outward and inward practical virtue, are thus connected with regard to _the true God_. The man has not only both morality and religion, but his religion is of the right kind. It is as proper as to its object, as it is sincere in itself. The man neither worships idols _as_ Gods,—nor idols _with_ God,—nor God _through_ idols. “He has not lifted up his soul unto vanity.” He has not been seduced by the sun in his splendour, nor by the moon in her brightness; he has not “kissed his hand,” nor “offered sacrifices,” to “the queen of heaven:” he has not “bowed his knee to the image of Baal,” nor “fallen down to the stock of a tree.” The language descriptive of his feeling and practice would be that of David in relation to himself,—“Unto THEE, O Lord, do _I lift up my soul_.”

It is easy to see, how this demand of character in his worshippers adds to the proof of the personality of God. Worship of any kind, to have any meaning, implies personality;—but the demand for worshippers of a certain sort, implies, along with this, the possession, by Him whom they are to approach and please, of personal properties the same in kind with those of the worshippers. Where there is virtue, there must be thought;—where there are moral attributes, there must be personal intelligence; and where there is the necessity for these, as a pre-requisite for worship,—the Being worshipped must be supposed to be distinguished by moral attributes as well as by intelligence, as thus, only, could he properly appreciate, or consistently demand, them. A God may be imagined to be _better_ than his worshippers,—he cannot rationally be supposed to be worse. To have a perception of goodness, and a sympathy with the good, and to permit none but the latter to stand before him, or to come into his presence, God must not only be a person, but one whose _own_ character, must _itself_ be pre-eminently distinguished by goodness. It may be worth observing, that moral ideas associated with worship, operate in more ways than one. They take a direction both upwards and downwards, each action illustrating the other. The character regarded with complacency in the worshippers, indicates that of the God they worship;—the character associated with the God they worship, moulds and fashions that of the worshippers. The deities of a people will naturally influence their moral notions and their moral behaviour. The object of worship becomes the standard of virtue;—men will imitate what they are taught to adore. If there be _no_ God, there need be no worship;—if worship is rendered to unintelligent force, it can be of no consequence, so far as _it_ is concerned, what the moral character of the worshippers is;—if the God be conceived of as sensual or malignant, lascivious or bloody, his image may be expected to be mirrored in his worshippers;—but if in all that approach him, he peremptorily demands “clean hands” and “a pure heart,”—with all that these include of universal virtue,—he must of necessity be considered to be holy Himself, while the habitual worship of such a being must be regarded as conducive to holiness in his servants. These latter ideas are precisely those which the Biblical idea of Deity illustrates. He is always described, in the loftiest terms, as invested with every attribute of excellence; as infinitely removed from evil; as looking on the good with delight; as permitting such only to approach him; as bidding the bad far from his presence; as detecting and denouncing hypocrisy and formality; and as exposing the uselessness of ritual acts and external observances taken by themselves, and insisting on an inward and earnest sympathy with his own love of the holy and the pure.

In consistency with the course which more than once we have already followed, we shall here introduce a series of passages from the Holy Scriptures illustrative of the statements which have just been made.

“The holy one of Israel.” “He is the Rock, his work is perfect;—a God of truth, and without iniquity; just and right is he.” “The Lord is in his holy temple;”—“worship him in the beauty of holiness.” “For the righteous Lord loveth righteousness; his countenance doth behold the upright.” “Unto the wicked God saith, What hast thou to do to declare my statutes, or that thou shouldest take my covenant in thy mouth?—Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such an one as thyself: but I will reprove thee and set them (thy doings) in order before thine eyes.” “Thou art not a God that hast pleasure in wickedness; neither shall evil dwell with thee.” “Confounded be all they that serve graven images, that boast themselves of idols. For thou Lord art high above all the earth; thou art exalted far above all gods. Ye that love the Lord, hate evil. Rejoice in the Lord ye righteous, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness.” “This people draweth nigh unto me with their mouth,—but their heart is far from me;” “Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, seek ye me, and ye shall live;—seek good and not evil, that ye may live.” “Hate the evil and love the good, and establish judgment in the gate that ye may live.” “To what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices unto me?” “When ye come to appear before me, who hath required this at your hand, to tread my courts? Bring no more vain oblations; incense is an abomination unto me; the new moons and sabbaths, the calling of assemblies, I cannot away with; it is iniquity, even the solemn meeting.” “When ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you: yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not hear: your hands are full of blood. Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes; cease to do evil; learn to do well.” “Judge me, O Lord, for I have walked in mine integrity. Examine me, prove me, try my reins and my heart. I have not sat with vain persons, neither will I go in with dissemblers. I have hated the congregation of evil doers; and will not sit with the wicked. I will wash mine hands in innocency, and so will I compass thine altar, O Lord.” “Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle? who shall dwell in thy holy hill? He that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his heart. He that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth evil to his neighbour, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour. In whose eyes a vile person is contemned, but he honoureth them that fear the Lord. He that sweareth to his own hurt and changeth not. He that putteth not out his money to usury, nor taketh reward against the innocent. He that doeth these things shall never be moved.”

III.

_Christ._

These representations lead to the consideration of a third and last thing, which is essential to the complete illustration of the subject.

“THE EARTH IS THE LORD’S, AND THE FULNESS THEREOF.” There is a God; God is to be worshipped; none but the good can acceptably worship him. So far all is plain. But men are not good. Throughout the race there is a consciousness to the contrary. In spite of the operation of many amiable instincts, and in spite of a large amount of passable virtue, it is quite understood that there is a terrible mass of iniquity in the world;—that there are the grossnesses of brutal lust, and the refinements of a fastidious licentiousness;—that there are falsehood, and fraud, and lying, and theft,—all the modes of open or secret dishonesty by which men attempt, or contrive, to overreach each other;—that there is the stupid animalism of rural ignorance, and the arts, and appliances, and accomplishments of crime, that abound in the recesses of great cities;—it is well known that corruption and depravity, in all these forms, have made terrible havoc in all lands; and, what is still more to the purpose, that among the classes the freest from crime, there is so much moral defect, and so many things having the character of sin,—so much, especially, of the want of religious faith, and of indifference to God, if not of conscious and positive enmity against him,—so much, in fact, of what constitutes the _opposite_ of all that must be meant by the term “holiness,” and of what is demanded in those who can calmly “ascend into the hill of the Lord,” and acceptably “stand in his holy place;” that it would almost seem, on the admission of the statements and principles advanced, as if the worship of God must be given up as hopeless, in a world like this, from the utter impossibility of finding a sufficient number to make up for him an assembly of fitting worshippers.

There is a difference between worship considered as _the habitual service of the good_,—the appearing before God of those of “clean hands” and “pure hearts,” who are living in moral sympathy with him,—and _the approach to his footstool_, in shame and tears, _of the guilty and the penitent_. It is the worship and character of _the former class_ that are contemplated in the description of the psalm before us; which description, with the demand involved in it, to be fully and theologically understood, must be looked at in connexion with the entire service of the Hebrew Institute, and the whole teaching of the sacred volume. If a holy God can only be approached by holy worshippers,—and that, too, in a world of which holiness is _not_ the natural and characteristic attribute,—it is very obvious, that he must either remain without ever being worshipped at all, or some mode must exist by which the inhabitants of such a world may _be made_ holy. Now this is just the thing which the Jewish dispensation illustrated by a figure, and which the Christian redemption is given to the world to _realize_ in fact.

The Jewish dispensation approached men, in the first instance, as sinful and polluted, and it established a system adapted to their necessities. It set up its altar,—prescribed its sacrifices,—appointed its institutions,—consecrated its priesthood;—had its days of atonement, and its ark of propitiation,—its paschal lamb, and its burnt offering, and its scape-goat, and its sprinkling of blood;—with everything else that could either significantly presuppose sin, or point to the necessity and the mode of its removal. The Hebrew worshipper, in appearing before God, was first required to come into contact with the sacrifice and the priest;—he confessed offence, acknowledged his just exposure to punishment, brought his propitiation, and _then_, being purified from his ceremonial transgressions and the consequent disqualifications he had contracted, by this appointed method of approach to God, he was regarded as in a state of fitness for his worship, and could thus draw nigh as an accepted worshipper.

Now, there was a moral meaning in this ritual arrangement. It was intended to teach that, as ceremonial impurity needed to be removed in order to acceptable outward service,—so, spiritual guilt needed to be removed in order to acceptable _spiritual_ worship. When the psalm before us, therefore, or any other, expatiates on the virtues and excellences of the man who is permitted “to ascend into the hill of the Lord,” or allowed “to stand in his holy place,” it is always implied, that he has come to the attainment of the character described, by a process of pardon and of purification through the previous exercise of the Divine mercy.

But, it is to be remarked, that the Levitical Institute, while so fully set forth and impressively taught the two great truths of the sinfulness of man, and the necessity for some Divinely appointed mode both for his reconciliation with God and the renewal or sanctification of his nature, did not reveal, completely and explicitly, what that mode was, or what it was to be. It dimly foreshadowed it;—it indicated the principle on which it would proceed, and the parts of which it would consist;—but it did this by type and symbol,—anticipating, in a picture, the substance and reality that were one day to be revealed. It was very evident, from the Hebrew Institute, considered as a Divine and intelligible appointment, that men were to learn from it that their approach to God was to be marked by solemn and affecting peculiarities. They were distinctly taught that they needed to be redeemed, reconciled, pardoned, purified, in order that they might be able to rejoice at the remembrance of God’s holiness, or to appear before him as acceptable worshippers; and they were further taught, that in order to this,—that is, to their attainment of pardon and its attendant advantages,—it was incumbent that atonement should be made by sacrifice, and that the priest should pass into the Divine presence with the blood of the victim, to bring thence, and through it, the blessings needed by sinful humanity.

St. Paul tells us, in the Epistle to the Hebrews, that the Levitical Institute taught this, and that it was _intended_ to teach it; that is, that it taught what it was that humanity _needed_. But he tells us more than that; he tells us that it _also_ taught that this thing that was so needed, and so wished for, _was not yet revealed_, that it was not provided by the Institute itself, in its own altar, victim, or priesthood,—and would not be manifested _so long as itself stood_; or, at least, that the coming of it, as it would be the fulfilment of what the Institute foreshadowed or foretold, would be the signal and means of its dissolution and departure. By the fact of sacrifice, and the sprinkling of blood, and the washings and purifications of their own ceremonial, the apostle says it was evidently taught, that there existed a necessity for the removal of sin and the cleansing of the conscience; but then, by the _repetition_ of the sacrifices, the annual return of the day of atonement, and the mysterious darkness of the holy of holies,—excluded from sight by the awful veil, and permitted to be approached only once a year, and that only by one individual,—by all this, he says, it was _equally_ taught, that Judaism did not accomplish for man, _what it informed him needed to be done_. The first covenant had ordinances of divine service,—a sanctuary—a veil—the tabernacle which is the holiest of all. Now, into this, the high priest alone went, “once every year, not without blood, which he offered for himself and for the errors of the people. THE HOLY GHOST THIS SIGNIFYING, that the way into the holiest of all was not made manifest, while the first tabernacle was yet standing: which was a figure for the time then present, in which were offered both gifts and sacrifices, that could not make him that did the service perfect _as pertaining to the conscience_: which stood only in meats and drinks, and divers washings, and carnal ordinances, imposed on them _until the time of reformation_.”

Now, this typical and temporary character sustained by the Jewish Institute,—this parabolic and preparatory office which it had to fulfil,—this suggesting merely, or setting forth in a figure, of the wants of humanity and of the _principle_ which must pervade, underlie, and distinguish the provision that must meet them,—this prophetic announcement that priest and sacrifice were yet _future_, but were certain to come,—all this, while it shows the importance of attending to the connexion between the Old and the New Testaments, and of mutually interpreting each by the other, gives, of necessity, to the more spiritual portions of the Hebrew records a far-stretching and comprehensive meaning, which can only be understood by looking at it in the light of the Christian revelation. “_Coming events_ cast their shadows _before_.” The whole of the fabric and furniture of the tabernacle were constructed and arranged upon this principle. This principle was recognised and embodied in the utterances of the prophets;—it often pervaded the entire texture, or appeared in parts, of one or other of _the psalms and songs of the ancient church_. In looking at the intention and significancy of Judaism, we should imagine ourselves gazing on the floor of the temple and the front of the veil,—observing them covered with flickering shadows falling from objects which are unseen. There they lie,—the distinct outlines of thing and person,—the _shadows_ of substances which are existing somewhere, but which only, as yet, give notice that they are, by this insubstantial intimation of themselves. In the holy of holies, there is the mysterious light of the glory of God seated between the cherubims;—between that and the hanging veil and the sacred floor, _some one must be standing_, whom, as yet, we see not,—for his shadow can be discerned on the veil itself, and even on the floor, as we mark minutely the appearances before us of light and shade. _Some one is preparing to appear_, and to be revealed, and manifested, in whose hands will be found the substance of those other objects whose shadows seem to be lying around us!—The approaching events are thus prophetically announced by these dim outlines; and, while they are being so, voices are heard from the great congregation, uttering _an equally prophetic song_,—celebrating the glories of what they _see_, but doing it in language which only finds its intended significance when applied to and associated with what they see _not_.

On this principle it is, then, that we have prophetic psalms;—psalms that are termed Messianic, from their referring to the Messiah, and anticipating his appearance, his sufferings and death, his resurrection and ascension, his kingdom and glory. Some of these refer, in their primary application, to other individuals and to mundane events;—they express the feelings and anticipations of the writers in relation to themselves, and they describe matters of immediate concern or recent occurrence; but they do this in language that admits of a deeper meaning and a larger range;—the import of which they that employed it might not know, and which _we_ only learn from the New Testament expositors of the Hebrew text. When Jesus “opened the understandings of the apostles, that they might understand the Scriptures;” and when he condescended to show them the true meaning of their ancient books, he expounded to them, it is said, “What was written in the law, in the prophets, and in THE PSALMS concerning _himself_.” The evangelists and the apostles, in their future writings for the instruction and use of the Christian church, used this knowledge, or similar knowledge from the same source; and thus it is, that we find quotations from so many of the psalms,—some in the Gospels, some in the Acts, others in the Epistles of Peter and Paul. From one psalm the apostle takes the expression of man being made “a little lower than the angels,” to express the fact of Christ’s coming in the flesh, with the objects and results of it;—that “_he_ was made a little lower than the angels _for the suffering of death_, that he might taste death for every man.” From another psalm, he applies language still stronger, to the same purpose. “Sacrifice and offering thou wouldest not, _but a body hast thou prepared me_: lo! I come to do thy will, O God.” The apostle’s comment upon this is very remarkable. Having quoted the passage, he proceeds to reason upon it after this manner:—When he says, “Sacrifice and offering, which are offered by the law, thou wouldest not, neither hadst pleasure therein, and then says, ‘Lo! I come to do thy will;’ he takes away the first that he may establish the second.” That is, he removes and puts aside _the mere symbols_ of the preparatory dispensation, which were inefficient and typical, and reveals _the reality_, which they were meant to announce, and which they prophetically foreshadowed. _That reality_ was the Divine “will” in its ultimate object, namely, “The offering of the body of Christ” “once for all,” “through the eternal Spirit,” “without spot;” _by the which offering_, we are saved and sanctified;—for it can do that _for the heart and conscience_ which the others only showed to be necessary by what they did “_for the purifying of the flesh_.” From another psalm may be collected the physical circumstances of the crucifixion,—the “cruel mockings,” the “piercing of the hands and the feet,” the “parting of the garments and casting lots;” together with the anticipated mysterious utterances of the great sufferer, in his “bloody sweat,” and his mighty anguish! In another psalm, we find the resurrection;—the soul of Messiah is “not left in Hades,” the place of the dead, nor does “his body” in the grave, “see corruption;” and in other psalms, we find the foreshadowing of _subsequent_ events:—his ascension into heaven; his official position, and mediatorial glories and functions, there; with much that relates to the corresponding effect of all this on earth:—“Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee”:—“The Lord said unto my Lord, Sit thou at my right hand until I make thine enemies thy footstool.” “The Lord hath sworn, and will not repent, Thou art a priest for ever, after the order of Melchisedek.” “The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the Lord, and against his anointed:—Yet have I set my king upon my holy hill of Zion.” “THOU HAST ASCENDED ON HIGH, _thou hast led captivity captive_: thou hast received gifts for men; yea, for the rebellious also, that the Lord God might dwell among them.” Now, this latter passage is to be particularly observed. It is a passage taken from one of the psalms,—a psalm sung at the removal of the ark, like the twenty-fourth, and which, like it, is taken up in the celebration of battle and war, victory and conquest. It is to be noticed, then, that the passage just quoted, is applied by the apostle Paul, in the Epistle to the Ephesians, _to the ascension of Christ_, and is connected by him with the work which he came from heaven to accomplish, and the blessings which he returned to heaven to dispense. “Unto every one of us is given grace according to the measure of the gift of Christ. Wherefore he saith, _When he ascended up on high, he led captivity captive, and gave gifts unto men_. (Now that he ascended, what is it but that he descended first into the lower parts of the earth? He that descended, is the same also as he that ascended up far above all heavens, that he might fill all things). And he gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers; for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ: till we all come, in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ.”

These last remarks will have revealed the drift of this long discussion, and will enable us now rapidly to bring it to a close. By “reasoning out of the Scriptures,” we have shown how the Levitical dispensation was, in its rites and usages, preparatory and prophetic of something to come;—by distinct passages from the Book of Psalms, as quoted and explained in the New Testament, we have shown how the hymns of the ancient church anticipated, by their recondite and profounder meaning, the same things that were foreshadowed in the ritual;—and, in the concluding remarks on this point, we have shown, how the apostle illustrates _the ascension of Messiah, after successful battle and war_—returning from conquest and crowned with victory—_by referring to the words of a Hebrew Psalm_. In the same way, then, we think ourselves entitled to connect the 24th Psalm with the mission of the Messiah, and to consider that the close of it, if not an intended prophecy of his ascension, is yet capable of being regarded _as illustrative of it_; and that it should suggest therefore the propriety of adding to whatever truths of a general nature the first verses of the psalm may embody, the specific peculiarities of the Christian revelation,—that revelation to which all previous discoveries were preparatory, and without which they cannot be complete. There is an emphatic sense, in which CHRIST is “the King of glory;” in which he is to be regarded as having being engaged in mortal combat,—contending with the enemy of God and man,—overcoming him in a way as mysterious as it was successful—by yielding himself to be “bruised for our iniquities,” and “stricken for our sins;” and that, “after having by himself purged our sins,”—after having, in the nature he had assumed, “presented himself an offering and a sacrifice,” that we might obtain “eternal redemption through his blood,”—he rose again from the dead, proclaiming his triumph over sin and Satan, by showing that it was “not possible for him to be holden” of Death; and further, that “he ascended up on high,”—entered into heaven, whose “everlasting gates” opened to receive him, as one who was “leading captivity captive,” and who came to ask and “to receive gifts for men.” All this we are warranted in connecting with the ideas which have already passed before us, of the supremacy of God, the duty of worship and the character of his worshippers, and of finding in it the evangelical element in which such ideas need to be baptized. God is; God is to be worshipped; God is holy; _they_ must be holy who habitually approach him;—but “all have sinned and come short of the glory of God:” “every mouth must be stopped, for the whole world is guilty before Him.” “WHO, then, shall ascend into the hill of the Lord, or who shall stand in his holy place?”—They, certainly, who have “clean hands” and “a pure heart,” but—who have _first_ “made a covenant with God _by sacrifice_;”—who have accepted _Him_, whom he hath “set forth as a propitiation,” and “whose blood cleanseth from all sin;”—who, as sinners, draw nigh in _his_ name, who is “the Way, the Truth, and the Life,” and without whom “no man cometh unto the Father;”—they who, believing in Him “who died, rose again, and continues to live,” and “who hath ascended up on high that he might fill all things,” have “received out of his fulness even grace for grace”;—have obtained the pardon of actual sin, and have received the gift of the sanctifying Spirit which the Redeemer is emphatically exalted to bestow;—they who, by the subjective operation of the truth, are “washed, and justified, and sanctified, in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the spirit of our God;” and who know, by experience, that “the grace of God which bringeth salvation, teaching them, that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, they should live soberly, righteously, and godly in the world.” “_This_ is the generation of them that seek him, that seek thy face O God of Jacob.” “These receive the blessing from the Lord, and righteousness from the God of their salvation.” “They that do these things, shall never be moved.”

In this way, then, by taking the first verse of the psalm before us, which constitutes the inscription on the Royal Exchange, and looking at it in connexion with the whole composition of which it is a part, and by looking at that, also, in connexion with the religious institution it belonged to, and the entire revelation of both Testaments, as gradually developing the great system of mercy and mediation,—in this way, we are taught to associate with _the general truths of an elementary Theism_,—which is all that at first appear to be proclaimed,—_the specific truths of an Evangelical Christianity_. “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof;”—this simple declaration of the primary principle of all religion, when placed in the light emanating from the whole constellation of discoveries which surround it in the Jewish and Christian Scriptures, is seen to involve in it, not only the existence, the government, and the worship, of a personal God, but the reality and the functions, the work and the presidency, of a personal Redeemer. They that “ascend into the hill of the Lord, and that stand with acceptance in his holy place,” must _be_ holy because God is holy; but it were terrible to make this demand upon humanity, which is altogether deformed and dislocated, and that manifests everywhere, when it thinks of God, that its next thought is that God is _against_ it,—it were terrible, we say, to make this demand, _if there came not along with it, the proclamation of the offer, and the announcement of the Divine method, of forgiveness_,—the “reconciliation” effected by him who triumphed over sin by the death of the cross, and who ascended up on high in the might of his achievement, to be at once the medium of our access to God, and the Divine Distributor of the blessings of his salvation. Men, as men—that is, as sinners—are to believe the gospel, and to accept of Christ, that, by faith and repentance, spiritually “entering into the holiest of all, through the way he has consecrated for them by his blood,” they may be constituted the church; and then, _being_ the church,—that is, sinful men justified and sanctified _through him_,—they are “to bring forth the fruits of the spirit” in their lives, and habitually to worship “in the beauty of holiness.” The virtue that we demand in the worshippers of God, under the rule of the Christian dispensation, is the virtue that flows from religious faith; that faith being, the exercise of trust in the redemption of the gospel. To have “clean hands” and “a pure heart,”—to be sincere and upright in lip and life—we exact of _all men_ as their daily duty; but in order to possess these in a proper manner, so that they shall be vital, Christian holiness, and not a superficial and secular virtue, there is a _previous_ duty which behoves to be attended to,—the submission of the mind to the faith of Christ,—penitent approach to an offended God through the one divinely-appointed Mediator, “in whom we have redemption, through his blood, the forgiveness of sins according to the riches of his grace.” Being “made partakers of the Divine nature,” through the influence of the quickening and sanctifying Spirit, they will then not only have “their fruit unto holiness,” and cultivate, from the force of a necessary law, and as impelled by a regal and irrepressible instinct, “_whatsoever things are just, and whatsoever things are pure, and whatsoever things are true, and whatsoever things are lovely and of good report_,” but they will be a part of “the priesthood of God,” endowed and consecrated by an unction from himself, that, in the various acts and exercises of the Church, they may constantly offer up “spiritual sacrifices acceptable to him by Jesus Christ.” These engagements, again, will re-act on their personal character, and have a constant tendency to advance and elevate it, and help their attainment of a practical perfection. In this way, men, _first_ “having obtained like precious faith” with the Apostles, “in the righteousness of God, and of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ;” will be divinely taught the secret of a real and accumulative excellence. “Having escaped from the corruption that is in the world through lust,” they will “give all diligence to add to their faith virtue, and to virtue knowledge, and to knowledge temperance, and to temperance patience, and to patience godliness, and to godliness brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness charity.”

An intelligent adherent of the Scriptural, Protestant, and Evangelical faith of the living Christianity of this realm of England, associates all we have endeavoured to illustrate in the whole of our discussion with the simple inscription on the Royal Exchange. It is a text from the Bible. It recognises the Divine authority of the book; and the recognition of that authority in one of its sayings, carries with it the admission of the whole of its utterances. “The earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof.” The association of this, in a devout mind, is easy and natural with the exaltation and glory of the Redeemer of the world, whose last words when he left it were, “All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth,” and who, upon this, based the command which he gave to the Apostles, “Go ye, therefore, into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature.” The government of the earth is in the hands of Christ; it is mediatorial; it is not only that of goodness and beneficence, but it is that also of revealed mercy. God “will have all men to be saved, and to come unto the knowledge of the truth,” for his son “gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time.” There is _another_ “fulness,” besides that of the teeming earth, and the annual redundance and prodigality of nature. There is “_The fulness of Christ,—the fulness of him who filleth all in all_;” the complete development of “his body the Church;” and the full-orbed display of his perfections and glory, when “to him every knee shall bow of things in heaven and things in earth; and every tongue shall confess that _he_ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” All this, the thoughtful observer associates with the sentence that daily meets the eyes of the citizens of this great metropolis. All this is being ceaselessly uttered in the hearing of the assembled congress of nations;—it is held up in the sight of the many and multitudinous representatives of the various tribes and peoples of the earth! _What would be the future of Europe and the world_,—moral, political, social, and religious,—_if England and its visitors alike learnt, and fully carried out, all that is involved in what the one is proclaiming in the ears of the others_?

In the succeeding pages of this book, we shall endeavour to reply to this question.