This inscription, the sentence graven upon Aaron's mitre, is, then, what all God's servants should wear—it is for them a distinguishing mark. But does this appear to be the case; is "holiness unto the Lord" the visible sign and seal of the Christian's high calling? There are many who are recognized as active, honourable, useful, zealous servants of God, but how few could we single out as being eminent for holiness!
And how, it may be asked, can holiness be defined? As that purity of thought and heart which the Spirit alone can bestow; that abhorrence of sin which is something far higher than mere abstinence from sin. The man who bears the stamp of holiness, will detect and grieve over the lightest stain upon conscience; the coarse allusion, however witty, the drunkard's song, or the scoffer's jest, will never raise a smile on his lips: nor are they so likely to be heard in his presence; for the world, like Alexander, is often constrained to pay homage where holiness is legibly inscribed, and the silence of one whose habitual walk is with God, impresses more than the open rebuke of a more inconsistent believer. Deep reverence for God and God's Word is an accompaniment of "holiness unto the Lord;" the heavenly-minded Christian will not jest with sacred things, nor lightly use quotations from Scripture.
It is the holy Christian, or to use the much abused, yet most expressive Scripture term, the "saint," who earnestly endeavours to "bring into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ." How marvellous is that constant current of thought flowing through every mind, silently, secretly, like a narrow stream between banks so steep that we cannot catch a glimpse of its course, and can but trace it by the vegetation on either side, as our usual current of thought is judged of by our words and our actions! How often, when seated amongst silent companions—as, for instance, when travelling with strangers—have we reflected how interesting it would be, could we gain a glimpse of that stream of thought passing unceasingly through each brain; could we know whether it sparkles with hope, or "flows deeply and darkly" in shadow; whether it bears along golden grains of holy meditation, or mere bubbles of folly to break at a touch, or if the current be fetid and polluted with ideas that the lips would not dare for shame to form into words! Could the thoughts of the travellers in one railway-carriage, during a single hour of silence, be so photographed as to become visible to all, how marvellous would appear the difference between those of the worldling and those of the saint; though, alas! the musings of the holiest child of Adam would be found no pure and untainted stream, reflecting Heaven perfectly within its crystal depths.
The contrast would be yet more striking were the thoughts thus laid open to view those which had flowed during an hour of public worship. The posture of the body, the words of the mouth, might be the same, but the current of thought would appear as different in individuals, as the pestilential drainage from a marsh from the clear brooklet bearing health and fertility wherever it flows. It is impossible for us to obtain this glimpse of the stream, this knowledge of the thoughts in the minds of others, but have we ever endeavoured to gain it as regards our own? Have we tried to retrace the windings of the current for one single hour, and so enabled ourselves to estimate more correctly whether God's grace has in any degree purified "the issues of life," and imparted to our souls some measure of "holiness unto the Lord"?
Is such purity of thought actually requisite for—actually indispensable to a true Christian? To judge by the standard of the world, even that which is called the religious world, we should at once conclude that it is not. The pre-eminently spiritual Christian stands almost as singular amongst his brethren as did the high priest of Israel amongst the sons of Levi. But is not this because Christians live below their privileges, so that comparatively few let their light so shine before men that God is glorified in His saints? Let us, ere we close our meditations on Aaron's mitre and its inscription, earnestly, prayerfully, revolve the solemn exhortation addressed to the servants of Christ: "Follow peace with all men, and HOLINESS, without which no man shall see the Lord."
[XIII.]
Balaam's Staff.
IT is with a sigh that we look on aught that reminds us of Balaam, the highly honoured, the highly gifted—he "which heard the words of God, and knew the knowledge of the Most High, which saw the vision of the Almighty, falling into a trance, but having his eyes open." In Balaam we behold a mournful example of light without heat, knowledge without practical wisdom, the gift of prophecy without that more excellent gift of charity.