[THE TYPICAL BEARINGS OF THE HISTORY.]
Narrative is also allegory. Danger of arbitrary fancies. Example from Bunyan. Scriptural teaching, [264].—Some resemblances are planned: others are reappearances of same principle, [265].—So that these are evidential analogies, like Butler’s, [266].—Others appear forced. “I called My Son out of Egypt” refers to Israel, [267].—But the condescending phrase promised more, and the subsequent coincidence is significant, [268]. Truths cannot all be proved like Euclid’s, [269].
[CHAPTER XIX.]
At Sinai, xix. 1–25.
Sinai and Pentecost. The place. Ras Sufsâfeh. God speaks in nature, [270].—Moses is stopped; the people must pledge themselves. Dedication services, [271].—An appeal to gratitude, and a promise, [272].—“A peculiar treasure.” “A kingdom and priests,” [273].—The individual, and Church order. “On eagles’ wings,” [274].—Israel consents. The Lord in the cloud. Manifestations are transient, [275].—Precautions. The trumpet, [276]. “The priests.” A plébiscite. Contrast between Law and Gospel: Methodius, [277].—Theophanies, [278].—None like this, [279].
[CHAPTER XX.]
The Law, xx. 1–17.
What the law did. It could not justify. It reveals obligation, [280].—It convicts, not enables. It is an organic whole. And a challenge, [281].—The Spirit enables: love is fulfilment of law. Luther’s paradox, [283].—Law and Gospel contrasted. Its spiritual beauty: two noble failures, [283].—The Jewish arrangement of the Commandments. St. Augustine’s. The Anglican. An equal division, [284]–[6].