ISAAC ON THE ALTAR. BY REV. T. A. TAYLOR. ON many of earth's mountains have transpired scenes of the most intense interest. Moriah is a name suggestive of an exceedingly thrilling occurrence, which may be designated, Isaac upon the altar. In one of the visions by which the Almighty revealed himself to ancient patriarchs and prophets, or by some unmistakable announcement, Abraham was commanded to offer his son as a burnt offering to the Lord. The object was the trial of the father's faith; perhaps also for the exhibition of the son's meekness and piety. Obedient to the high behest, he promptly prepared to execute it. Having long been accustomed to yield prompt and strict compliance with his Lord's commands, he at once moved as he was directed. Probably the sun did not shine upon his habitation, after the edict had reached his ears, before he was actively engaged in fulfilling it. Arising early in the morning, he prepares the wood, takes fire and a knife, selects two servants and a beast of burden, and thus, with his son, goes on to the accomplishment of a service, from the thought of which human feelings have often instinctively shrunk. Not until the light of the third day was shining upon their pilgrimage, did he discover the divinely appointed locality for the sacrifice; and then it was afar off. Oh! had an angel mapped the path in which they trod, how would our eyes love to trace it! Brevity marks the narrative. Nothing is recorded respecting the words or thoughts of the first two days. On the third, the attendants are bidden to halt, and remain as watchers with the animal, while the venerable man and his most affectionate son proceed to complete their solemn embassy. The latter carries the wood, which had been cleft for the consumption of his own flesh; the former bears the embers and the instruments of death. "And they went both of them together." At length he, who is himself the victim, breaks the silence of their march. "My father, behold the fire and the wood; but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?" Did there ever go forth from the lips of a child an expression more adapted to break up the very fountains of emotion in a parent's soul? Had there not been a faith in the rectitude of God, unshaken as the everlasting hills, could a reply have forced itself from that father? See the composing power of confidence in the Lord! "My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering." Yes, thou, the Eternal One, hast power to meet every emergency. At thy word the flinty rock pours out a living stream, and the desolate wilderness blossoms as the rose. Darkness becomes day, and light is exchanged into blackness. "So they went, both of them together." How they felt, we can only conjecture. Let us, therefore, not suppose them otherwise than full of praise to Him who giveth songs in the dreariest hour of adversity. Behold, their journey ends! The wood, the fire, and the knife, are laid down. From the rough stones of the mountain-top is erected an altar, by him long skilled in forming such structures. The work is Isaac, the son saint is engaged in a familiar service; but never, till this hour, did he place stone upon stone, in the name of the Lord, with such a victim before him as now awaits his priestly authority. finished. The fuel for the flame is laid in due order. of promise, the heir of eastern wealth, the beloved of his mother, the dear child of his father, is bound and laid upon the wood; and Abraham stretches forth his hand, and takes the knife to slay him! Behold an angel hovering over the spot. Hear his call from the skies: "Abraham, Abraham, lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou anything unto him!" Peremptory orders, but welcome! The Highest utters his compassion, the patriarch's arm is arrested in the midst of its bloody endeavor, and Isaac is set at liberty. Another victim bleeds in his stead, and blessing upon blessing is pronounced upon him who withheld not his only son when required by the Most High. Having given to the place a significant name, they who had gone up for solemn sacrifice, return with exulting hearts. "I can imagine," says Saurin, "of no transports to be compared with those which Abraham felt on his descent from Mount Moriah." We have heard of the infidel's challenge to all the divines in the world for a reconciliation of the command, requiring the sacrifice of Isaac, with the law of nature, written upon every human heart. Far is it from my present purpose to take up the gauntlet thrown down by the haters of holiness and the boastful antagonists of truth. I frankly confess that I give thanks to the Almighty for this illustrious specimen of faith, and see, neither in the requirement nor in its execution, aught which should lead me to doubt the literalness of the historical narrative, or to be shocked with its details. On the contrary, facts here are precious. I have not the least desire that this chapter had been left out of the Bible. None in it more impressively exhibits some of the prime principles by which real saints are actuated. Is there, after all, anything very mysterious in the severe test to which Abraham's faith was subjected? The Almighty has a perfect right to call upon his moral creatures to sacrifice objects the most dear. He cannot do wrong. It would be sinful for a parent to murder his child, and this was not demanded of the patriarch. Nor was it required that Isaac should be less affectionately cherished by the father, but that the Holy One should have the soul's supreme regard. God may justly order any of us to go a three days' journey to worship him in a place "afar off." We would not detract in the least from the common impression that Abraham's trial was exceedingly great; it could not have been otherwise. Still we do insist that nothing in the account ought to occasion a doubt of its truth, or give rise to a single hard thought of God. Again; the same, in substance, is demanded of every parent. Jehovah requires that all children be consecrated to him. How many What scenes Sickness and of the youth, yea, of children and infants, are cut off! of suffering does nearly every household witness! death are always messengers of the Lord. Even patriotism joyfully surrenders the flower of a nation to be slain, if need be, in promoting a country's good. Who, then, will deny to piety the duty and privilege of sacrificing, for God's glory, whatever he deems necessary? Alas! millions of fathers and mothers, whose blood chills in their veins at the mention of Isaac upon the altar, bind their own offspring and sacrifice them to devils. Abraham knew that the Lord was able to raise up to life his son from the ashes, to which, it was supposed, he must be reduced; and probably he expected such an issue, though his obedience was not prompted by this consideration. It was his rule to go at the divine bidding, leaving results with the Sovereign of all things and beings. God's will, as made known to us, is our only rule of duty. To deliberate a moment whether or not we will comply when he has spoken, betrays the want of a Christian spirit. Here be it observed, with devout thankfulness, that when believers attempt to obey Jeho |