INTRODUCTION.
On this side of the sea we sit down with a big book in our hands. It is an old book. Nearly two thousand years have passed since the last word of it was written, and no one can tell how many thousands of years ago the records were made or the words uttered, out of which its first writer prepared his wonderful statements.
This old book is a singular book as to the variety of its contents,—ranging from dry chronological statement to highest flight of royal poetry. Many pages of it are simply historical, with lists of kings, and names of family lines through many generations. Geographical allusions descending to minutest detail are strewn thickly through its pages. There is no department of natural science which does not find some of its data recognized in the chapters of this venerable volume. Stones and stars, plants and reptiles, colossal monsters of sea and land, fleet horse, bird of swift flight, lofty cedar and lowly lily,—these all find their existence recognized and recorded in that book of "various theme."
As it is a long time since these records were made, so are the lands far away in which the events recorded are said to have occurred. We measure the years by millenaries, and by the thousand miles we measure the distance. The greatest contrast exists between the age and land in which we live and the age and lands in which this book found its beginning, its material and its ending.
To one familiar only with the habits, dress and customs of American life, the every-day events recorded in the book seem fabulous. We do not dress as the book says that people dressed in those far-away years and far-away lands; we do not eat as they did; our houses are not like theirs; we do not measure time as they did; we do not speak their language; our seasons do not answer to the seasons that marked their year. It is difficult, knowing only our modern American life, to think ourselves into the conditions under which this book says that people lived and thought in those long-ago ages. Their wedding feasts and funeral services differed utterly from ours. They lived and died in another atmosphere, under a government that no longer exists; made war upon nations that are powerless to-day as the sleeping dead in a national cemetery; and the things which we read concerning them seem strange enough to us.
In the changes which have taken place through all these centuries, it would be an easy thing, under some circumstances, for men to deny that the people of the book ever lived, that the cities of the book were ever built, that the events of the book ever transpired. And, if its historic foundation were destroyed, the superstructure of truth, the doctrinal and ethical teachings resting upon it, might in like manner be swept away.
This old Book—the Bible, a divine product, wrought into the texture of human history and literature with the gradually unfolding ages—is the old Book we study to-day on this side the sea.
It is a "Book of books,"—the Book out-shining all other books in the literary firmament, as the sun out-splendors the planets that move in their orbits around him.