tion is a fact of life, whether it comes as moralists and artists of all ages have depicted or not. Moral life writes itself indelibly on nerves and tissues, colours the blood. It records itself on character. Any day may be the judgment-day, the day of revealing, declaring patently what is and what has been. The geologist by a casual cut in the earth can tell the story of the earth's happenings by the strata that are laid bare, deposit on deposit. The story of our life is not a tale that is told and then done with. It leaves its mark on the soul. It only needs true selfknowledge to let us see it all. It only needs awakened memory to bring it all back. It only needs the fierce light to beat on it to show it up as it was and is. "There is nothing covered that shall not be revealed and hid that shall not be made known. Therefore, whatsoever ye have spoken in darkness shall be heard in the light, and that which ye have spoken in the ear in closets shall be proclaimed upon the housetops." Ashamed when he is found out! If to be undetected is the only defence, it is to gamble against a certainty. Found out we shall be, as we stand naked in the revealing and self-revealing light.

The recognition of this is the great ethical awakening to a man, teaching him to submit to self-judgment and compelling him to live his life in the open.

XV

A NARROWING LIFE

For the bed is shorter than that a man can stretch himself on it: and the covering narrower than that he can wrap himself in it.-ISAIAH XXviii. 20.

THIS chapter is one of the most powerful of the prophecies of Isaiah, characteristic of his magnificent literary qualities, and characteristic of the man himself, with his keen mind and noble heart. It has the knowledge of life, the insight into human nature which made him a great statesman, and the insight into God's will which made him a great prophet. It is full of dialectic skill, argument and sarcasm and epigram; and full of passion, with the line and plummet of judgment and righteousness in it, and swept by an indignant storm of hail that sweeps away the refuge of lies. It begins with a reference to the northern kingdom of Israel, and the fate in store for their luxury and self-indulgence, the drunkards of Ephraim, who have forfeited their rights to exist as a separate nation. Judgment yawns for them, as the first-ripe fig of summer, which a

man looks on, and while it is yet in his hand he eateth it up.

Then coming nearer home, he accuses Judah of the same sin, the same luxury; and for them too will be the same judgment unless they repent. The reference to Ephraim is meant to drive the lesson home to Judah. The great Assyrian power which will swallow up Ephraim like a ripe fig, will be used to be to them also the scourge of God. With incredible levity, they only mock at him, and ask if he thinks them children; and act up to the name which Isaiah hurls at them, "ye scornful men, that rule this people which is in Jerusalem." Their argument is that they are not so simple, so childish, as he seems to think when he presumes to counsel them. They are clever skilful statesmen, and have bargained against all the possible chances of disaster. While he has been preaching, they have been planning and plotting. They have their alliance with Assyria, and have concocted a counter-alliance with Egypt, and mean to play off one against the other. They are clever rulers, and have provided for all the chances. "We have made a covenant with death, and with hell are we at agreement; when the overflowing scourge shall pass through, it shall not come unto us." That is to say, they have now concluded

their treaties by which they need no longer be afraid of disaster. The statesmen at Jerusalem were miserable opportunists, with no fixed principles, no consistent policy, dreaming that they can make up for the weakness at home by moves and counter-moves on the political chessboard. They put their trust on secret alliances and underhand intrigues.

Over against this Isaiah places the true policy, which accepts the facts of the situation, the present overpowering strength of Assyria, and which believes in the future of Israel, and therefore devotes all energies quietly to strengthening the life of the nation. Let them put away the sin and luxury and drunkenness which are eating out the heart of the people; and let them put away their trivial diplomatic schemes and opportunist intrigues. Let them rely upon God. Let them think upon justice and righteousness and obedience to the moral laws of life. They will save themselves from the fever of intrigue and from the ruin which inevitably must result from their policy. He presents to them instead the calm policy of faith, faith in God's purpose with them, if only they will be true. "He that believeth shall not make haste."

In support of this argument, Isaiah uses the proverbial expression of our text to suggest the futility

of their political schemes to bring peace. Their opportunism is not sufficient: it will fail to satisfy the needs of the situation. "The bed is shorter than that a man can stretch himself on it: and the covering narrower than that he can wrap himself in it.” The proverb carries a suggestion of the very opposite of peace-discomfort, unrest, ever hampered and confined; a distorted, cramped, fretful life. As opposed to the faith which brings calmness and peace of heart, their lack of faith, seen in the sinful indulgence at home and the foolish diplomacy abroad, is a totally inadequate support for men or nations. There can never be true peace on the terms dreamed of by the scornful men who ruled this people in Jerusalem. Peace is not got by making covenants with death and agreements with hell. There can never be peace to men who make lies their refuge, and who hide themselves under falsehood. He that believeth shall not make haste. He that believeth alone can know peace. The other way is the way of unrest, and alarm, and fever, and constant dispeace. "The bed is shorter than that a man can stretch himself on it."

It is still true, as in these old days, that the lack of faith means the narrowing of life. Without faith there is no sufficient support for life.

Without faith