CHAPTER IX. (Continued from page 240.)

The last two verses of Chapter VIII. connect with the opening words of this chapter. The more Ecclesiastes applies every faculty he has to solve the riddle under the sun, robbing himself of sleep and laboring with strong energy and will, he becomes only the more aware that solution is altogether impossible. The contradictions of nature baffle the wisdom of nature. There is no assured sequence, he reiterates, between righteousness and happiness on the one hand, and sin and misery on the other. The whole confusion is in the sovereign hand of God, and the righteous and the wise must just leave the matter there, for "no man knoweth either love or hatred by all that is before them." What discrimination is there here ? Do not all things happen alike to all ? Yes, further, does not Time, unchecked by any higher power, sweep all relentlessly to one common end ? Love cannot be inferred from the " end " of the righteous, nor hatred from the "end" of the sinner; for it is one and the same death that stops the course of each. Oh, this is indeed an " evil under the sun."

Darker and darker the cloud settles over his spirit; denser and still more dense the fogs of helpless ignorance and perplexity enwrap his intelligence. For, worse still, do men recognize, and live at all reasonably in view of, that common mortality? Alas, madness is in their hearts while they live, and after that they go to the dead; and then all hope for them, as far as can be seen, is over forever. Dead! What does that mean ? It means that every faculty, as far as can be seen, is stilled forever. The dead lion, whose majesty and strength while living would have even now struck me with awe, is less formidable as it lies there than a living dog. So with the dead among men :their hatred is no more to be feared, for it can harm nothing; their love is no more to be valued, for it can profit nothing; their zeal and energy are no more to be accounted of, for they can effect nothing; yea, all has come to an end forever under the sun. Oh, the awfulness of this darkness! "Then I will give," continues Ecclesiastes, "counsel for this vain life in conformity with the dense gloom of its close. Listen! Go eat with joy thy bread, and merrily drink thy wine; let never shade of sorrow mar thy short-lived pleasure; let no mourning on thy dress be seen, nor to thy head be oil of gladness lacking; merrily live with her whom thy affection has chosen as thy life-companion, and trouble not thyself as to God's acceptance of thy works-that has been settled long ago; nor let a sensitive conscience disturb thee:whatsoever is in thy power to do, that do, without scruple or question;* for soon, but too soon, these days of thy vanity will close, and in the grave, whither thou surely goest, all opportunities for activity, of whatever character, are over, and that-forever! " *I believe this is distinctly the hearing of these words, and not as in our version.*

Strange counsel this, for sober and wise Ecclesiastes to give, is it not? Much has it puzzled many a commentator. Luther boldly says it is sober Christian advice, meant even now to be literally accepted, "lest you become like the monks, who would not have one look even at the sun." Hard labor indeed, however, is it to force it thus into harmony with the general tenor of God's word.

But is not the counsel good and reasonable enough under certain conditions ? And are not those conditions and premises clearly laid down for us in the context here ? It is as if a whirlwind of awful perplexities had swept the writer with irresistible force away from his moorings,-a black cloud filled with the terrors of darkness and death sweeps over his being, and out of the black and terrible storm he speaks-Man has but an hour to enjoy here, and I know nothing as to what comes after, except that death, impenetrable death, ends every generation of men, throws down to the dust the good, the righteous, the sober, as well as the lawless, the false, and the profligate; ends in a moment all thought, knowledge, love, and hatred;-then since I know nothing beyond this vain life, I can only say, "Have thy fling;-short, short thy life will be, and vain thou wilt find this short life; so get thy fill of pleasure here, for thou goest, and none can help thee, to where all activities cease, and love and hatred end forever."

This, we may say, based on these premises, and excluding all other, is reasonable counsel. Does not our own apostle Paul confirm it ? Does he not say, if this life be all, this life of vanity under the sun, then let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die ? Yea, we who have turned aside from this path of present pleasures are of all men most miserable, if this vain life be all.

And are we to expect poor unaided human wisdom to face these awful problems of infinite depth without , finding the strongest evidence of its utter incapacity and helplessness? Like a feather in the blast, our kingly and wise preacher (beyond whom none can ever go) is whirled, for the time being, from his soberness, and, in sorrow akin to despair, gives counsel that is in itself revolting to all soberness and wisdom. Nothing could so powerfully speak the awful chaos of his soul; and-mark it well-in that same awful chaos would you and I be at any moment, my reader, if we thought at all, but for one inestimably precious fact. Black like unto the outer darkness is the storm-cloud we are looking at, and the wild, despairing, yet sad counsel, to "live merrily" is in strict harmony with the wild, awful darkness, like the sea-gull's scream in the tempest.

Let us review a little the path of reasoning that has led our author to where he is ; only we will walk it joyfully in the light of God.

" No man knoweth love or hatred by all that is before him."We have looked upon a scene where a holy Victim-infinitely holy-bowed His head under the weight of a judgment that could not be measured. It was but a little while, and the very heavens could not contain themselves with delight at His perfect beauty, His perfect obedience ;but again, and yet again, were they opened to express the pleasure of the Highest in this lowly Man. Now, not only are they closed in silence, but a horror seems to enwrap all creation. The sun, obscured by no earth-born cloud, gives out no spark nor ray of light; and in that solemn darkness every voice is strangely hushed. From nine till noon the air was filled with revilings and reproaches-all leveled at the one sinless Sufferer; but now, for three hours, these have been absolutely silent, till at last one cry of agony breaks the stillness ;and it is from Him who was oppressed and afflicted, yet opened not His mouth; was brought as a lamb to the slaughter; and as a sheep before her shearer is dumb, so opened He not His mouth:- "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani"-"My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken Me ! "

There, my beloved readers, look there! Let that cross be before us, and then say, " No man knoweth
love or hatred by all that is before them." Are not both revealed there as never before ? Hatred ! What caused the blessed God thus to change His attitude towards the One who so delighted Him that the heaven's burst open, as it were, under the weight of that delight ? There is but one answer to that question. Sin. Sin was there on that holiest Sufferer- mine, yours, my reader. And God's great hatred of sin is fully revealed there. I know "hatred" when I see God looking at my sin on His infinitely holy, infinitely precious, infinitely beloved Son….

Let us meditate upon, without multiplying words over this solemn theme, and turn to the Love that burns, too, so brightly there. Who can measure the infinity of love to us when, in order that love might have its way unhindered, God forsakes the One who, for all the countless ages of the eternal past, had afforded Him perfect "daily" delight, was ever in His bosom-the only one in that wide creation who could satisfy or respond, in the communion of equality, to His affections-and turns away from Him ; nay, "it pleased the Lord to bruise Him"; "He hath put Him to grief." Ponder these words ; and in view of who that crucified Victim was, and His relationship with God, measure, if you can, the love displayed there, the love in that one short word "so" – "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son ; "-then, whilst viewing the cross, hear, coming down to us from the lips of the wise king, "No man knoweth love or hatred." Hush! Ecclesiastes, hush! Breathe no such word in such a scene as this. Pardonable it were in that day, when you looked only at the disjointed chaos and tangle under the sun; but looking at that cross, it were the most heinous sin, the most unpardonable disloyalty and treason, to say now, "No man knoweth love." Rather, adoringly, will we say, "In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent His only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through Him. Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us, and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins. And we have known and believed the love that God has to us."

Yea, now let "all things come alike to all:"-that tender Love shall shed its light over this stormy scene, and enable the one that keeps it before him to walk the troubled waters of this life in quiet assurance and safety. Death still may play sad havoc with the most sensitive of affections; but that Love shall, as we have before seen, permit us to weep tears; but not bitter despairing tears. Further, it sheds over the spirit the glorious light of a coming Day, and we look forward, not to an awful impending gloom, but to a pathway of real light, that pierces into eternity. The Day! We are of the Day! The darkness passes, the true light already shines !t Then listen, my fellow-pilgrims, to the Spirit's counsel:" But ye, brethren, are not in darkness, that day should overtake you as a thief. Ye are all the children of light, and the children of the day:we are not of the night, nor of darkness. Therefore, let us not sleep, as do others, but let us watch and be sober. For they that sleep, sleep in the night; and they that are drunken, are drunken in the night. But let us who are of the Day be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love, and for an helmet the hope of salvation."

Our poor preacher, in the darkness of the cloud of death, counsels, "merrily drink thy wine." And not amiss, with such an outlook, is such advice. In the perfect Light of Revelation, lighting up present and a future eternity, well may we expect counsel as differing from this as the light in which it is given differs from the darkness. "The night is far spent, the day is at hand:let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light. Let us walk honestly, as in the Day; not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to fulfill the lusts thereof." A men and A men.

(To be continued.)