THE principles and rules given above, with the inductive canons contained under them, will enable the biblical student to ascertain in every case what was the primary, proper, or general sense of any given word at the time it was used by the inspired penman. Every word has one such meaning, and but one. If, in the course of ages, what was originally this sense give place to what was once a secondary sense, let it be so. No confusion and no uncertainty can arise from it if we keep in mind that no word can have at the same time two or more proper or general significations. There must be a first, a primary meaning,--that which will first be suggested to the mind,--and there can be but one first; while every subordinate sense will be but a modification of that. Hence the necessity of commencing our investigations by acquiring this meaning.

      To make this matter plain--for everything depends upon it--let us exemplify it by the word cross. Of the noun, [291] Webster gives fourteen definitions; of the adjective, eight; of the preposition, about five; of the transitive verb, nine; of the intransitive, three; of the adverb crossly, three; of the noun crossette, one; crossing, three; crossness, one; besides some forty-five words compounded with the word cross. Now here are nearly one hundred definitions, or senses in which the word cross is used. But has the word so many different meanings? Not at all. They are all merely modifications of the original and proper sense--which sense runs through every one of them. Now when we write down the word "cross," without any prefix or affix, or any sign to indicate any peculiar signification, there arises in the mind of every one image having the form of an X, a dagger (†), or the sign plus (+). This is first suggested to the mind of those acquainted with our language, and is, therefore, its primary sense. If, now, we say that one went "across the street," do we not say that he made the form of a cross, the direction of the street being one line, and his path another? And so of all the cases given in Webster.

      Commentators have troubled themselves with a few words--one in particular--which have been held as an exception to the doctrine that we have advanced. The particular word we refer to is "let." Its primary or general meaning at the time King James's translation was made, as it still is, was to permit, to suffer, or to allow; but besides this, it is said, the word has, or at least then had, another sense which, so far from being a modification of the general meaning, was directly its opposite, namely, to [292] hinder, to obstruct. How is this to be accounted for? Shall we call it an exception? What reason is there for it? We dislike to see rules, and especially good rules, burdened with exceptions which are unaccountable. We submit the following off-hand explanation, which we hope may be found worthy of consideration:--

      That there are two distinct words, each spelled and pronounced "LET." Our reasons for this conclusion we will briefly give. Let us indicate a certain word without using its proper letters--the word grone, for example; and let the reader pronounce it as (for the sake of the illustration) we would do if he were present. What would we mean--a deep, mournful sound? or the perfect participle or adjective from the verb to grow? The hearer could not tell, because the same sound represents two distinct words, whose meaning, consequently, has no similarity. We can represent to the eye the difference in these words by writing one of them groan and the other grown. But language existed before letters; it was spoken before it was written; and it is either a mere accident, or an artificial convenience, that the two words are spelled differently. Suppose they had not been, but that both, words had been represented by the letters grone, would that have made them one word with two entirely different meanings? By no means. They would still have been two words, identical in spelling as they were before in sound. The same is true of the words air and heir; our and hour; ail and ale; feat and feet; no and know; new and knew; rain and reign; with numerous others of the same class. But [293] lest it should be objected that these words are not in point, because not of the same spelling--an objection which we think would be grounded upon the most superficial view of the subject--we will introduce others whose spelling and pronunciation are both alike; passing over that large class whose spelling is the same, but whose pronunciation--a very flitting matter--is different. Webster gives us no less than three distinct words, each written gill, and each pronounced jill--besides another word of the same form pronounced with g hard. One of these words means "the fourth of a pint;" another means "ground-ivy;" and another "a sportive or wanton girl." There is not the least shade of similarity in their meaning. They are all alike nouns, and in every sense different words. Again, we have two words written and pronounced bowl, each of which is a substantive with a different meaning. The same is true of bower; also of brag, a boast, or boasting; and brag, a game at cards. All the above examples, except gill, we find upon one opening of Webster's Dictionary. We opened at random, and have taken no pains to estimate how large this class of words may be. Nor is it necessary to look further. These are abundantly sufficient to show that where definitions are entirely different, our standard lexicographer regards the words defined, as different.¹ [294] We conclude, therefore, that "Let, to hinder," is one word, and "Let, to permit," another. How much this conclusion may be strengthened, if at all, by taking into account the difference in the spelling of the original Saxon, lætan and letan, we will not pause to inquire.

      If the above reasoning be sound, the remark with which we set out, that every word has one proper meaning alone, while every other meaning is but a modification of that, is left true without qualification, abatement, or exception. Now, therefore, we are prepared to submit the principle upon which the secondary sense of words is to be determined.

      In determining the meaning of a word in any given case, the presumption is always in favor of its primary or general sense.

      The effect of this principle, as every rhetorician knows, is to throw the burden of proof upon the opposite side. In other words, it tells us that we are not called upon in any case to show that the ordinary meaning is the one most proper in that case, because this is to be taken for granted unless there exist positive proof to the contrary. Hence, when there is no such proof or evidence, the general meaning stands without the aid of special support. From this principle we draw the following rule. [295]

      No change or modification should be made in the primary sense in any given case, except what is PROVED to be NECESSARY by the CIRCUMSTANCES of that case.

      This rule cuts off all guess-work, and all arbitrary proceedings in settling the secondary sense of words. It teaches us that we are, in the first place, to insert, as it were, the primary sense, in order to ascertain whether all the facts and circumstances can be made, without violence, to fit in with it, so as to form a consistent whole; and that, where this is impossible, the general meaning is to be extended, restricted, or turned aside, just enough to make the fit, but no more.

      Here we might with propriety pause, without the addition of a single rule more specific than has already been given, and leave the subject to the guidance of that common sense which has pointed out the above general directions. It may, however, be acceptable to the reader, though it be not necessary to the completeness of the subject, for us to draw out in the form of rules a few at least of the special requirements embraced in the above general principle, besides the rule already given.

      The general meaning of a word must be modified to the extent obviously required by the context.

      It cannot be important to dwell upon a rule the [296] necessity of which springs from the nature of language in general, and which, therefore, must be observed no less in the interpretation of human compositions than of the Bible. If it be disregarded, no author's meaning can be gathered from his words.

      That what precedes and succeeds any word in a given passage is to be taken into consideration in determining its exact sense, appears also from what we said above, that that sense must be such as would precisely fit or fill the place assigned it; which place can only be measured by observing the gap left between the preceding and succeeding parts of the whole passage. Across this gap we place temporarily the ordinary or primary sense of the word, as a sort of bridge over which we can pass back and forth, until we can ascertain what modification, if any, is required to enable it to meet perfectly the obvious necessities of the case. It may be too long, and we contract it; too short, and we extend it; too direct, and we deflect it but still it is the same bridge, only adjusted to the space it is to cover.

      But suppose it be a case like those in which the word let occurs, as in the following passage: "Oftentimes I desired to come unto you, but was let hitherto." (Rom. i. 13.) Now, if we throw over the space occupied by this word the definition permit, instead of forming a bridge it forms an obstruction. The mind cannot pass over it; and by no possible change or modification can it be made passable. We are forced, therefore, to take out the let having this signification, and to put in its place the other which has [297] the opposite sense, to hinder. And now the passage is perfect, and the mind glides along with ease from the foregoing to the succeeding context, while language is shown to be subject to rule and unchanging principle, and not the sport of caprice. So if we should say that, "walking in the garden, we plucked a sprig of mint of a very green color," our young readers might open their Webster's Dictionary and read as the definition of mint, "the place where money is coined by public authority." They would instantly perceive the incongruity of the definition with the apace assigned it, and the impossibility of adapting that definition to that space. They would then open their dictionary again, and find that there was another word of the same orthography and pronunciation, which signified a peculiar aromatic plant--which signification would exactly meet the requirements of the context.

      Or, to give an example of a verb, we read that "the Mount of Olives shall cleave in the midst thereof." (Zech. xiv. 4.) And again, "my bones cleave to my skin." (Ps. cii. 5.) Here is a case directly in point; two words exactly alike in every respect save their significations, which are directly opposite; while the context decides which word was used. A case which, taken in connection with the others given, establishes the principle previously laid down, and which we deem of sufficient importance to give in the form of a

      MAXIM.--That incongruities, or oppositions of meaning, are never represented by the same word, though they may be by words having the same form. [298]

      In obedience to this maxim our lexicographers give two or more mints, gills, and cleaves. Why not, for the same reason, have given two lets, and thus have been consistent throughout, while they left the most fundamental and important principle of philology without an exception?

      We have dwelt longer upon this point than its intrinsic merits might seem to justify, from the fact that this apparent exception has been made the basis of the most unwarrantable exegetical licentiousness. We will now leave it to the reflections of the intelligent reader.²

      The primary meaning of a word must yield to the natural demands of the subject matter.

      Among the numerous cases in which this rule applies, perhaps we could not do better than to particularize such passages as contain an allusion to scientific facts.

      It is conceded that the Bible was not intended to teach science, although in making its comprehensive revelations, and in detailing its historical facts, it was next to impossible to avoid making allusions to it. But in making such allusions, it had an ulterior and higher object in view, which could be subserved by adapting them to the then existing state of knowledge, as well as, and even better than, by turning aside from its lofty purpose to correct that knowledge. We should hence expect that such [299] allusions would merely indicate, in the main, the then existing state of scientific knowledge, which was and is, therefore, the subject matter of the allusions. Such passages would be interpreted correctly when shown to harmonize with such subject matter. There may indeed be cases in which the beautiful but perhaps somewhat fanciful theory of our distinguished countryman, Lieutenant Marry seems to be justified by the facts.

      "The Bible," he says,³ "frequently makes allusion to the laws of nature, their operation and effects. But such allusions are often so wrapt in the folds of the peculiar and graceful drapery with which its language is occasionally clothed, that the meaning, though peeping out from its thin covering all the while, yet lies, in some sense, concealed, until the light and revelation of science are thrown upon it; then it bursts out, and strikes us with exquisite force and beauty." But such cases, if such there be--and we confess that some of his examples are not without force--only give us real science, instead of popular opinion, for the subject matter of such biblical language.

      A case similar to, if not identical with the class he gives, is found in the geological question of the "six days;" in which, after we determine the sense in which the word "day" is used, we can see scientific truth "bursting out, and striking us with exquisite force and beauty." It may serve as an interesting example of our rule, if we pause for a little while upon this point. [300]

      According to the celebrated speculation of Laplace, which is now, we believe, generally received by astronomers, the earth, in common with the other planets, was formed from the condensed vapor of the sun's atmosphere, which originally extended to the limits of the present solar system. And when the ring of vaporous matter which formed our planet was first abandoned by the sun, in consequence of the increased rapidity of its rotation caused by the process of cooling and consequent contraction, and while it was undergoing those changes of shape which ultimately resulted in its present form, it was in the state, we may suppose, in which it is first described in Genesis--"without form and void." After a portion of its vapors had condensed into water, there would still surround the heated mass such an immense thickness of impenetrable cloud and vapor as effectually to exclude every ray of light, so that total "darkness brooded over the face of the deep." In process of time, as condensation went on, the rays of light would begin to penetrate through the superincumbent vapors, giving the strange phenomenon of the succession of day and night, without any visible cause. This, in the Scriptures, is marked as the first period, or first "day" of creation.

      The increased coolness of the surface of the earth would now begin to condense the vapors more rapidly near its surface, while the lighter vapors would be left at a great distance above, thus separating or "dividing the waters from the waters." This is marked as the second "day."

      The earth would now radiate heat more and more rapidly, [301] as the counter-radiation of the clouds became less and less, until the elements of those solids, which in the form of gases had been originally thrown off from the sun, would, through the action of the laws of chemical affinity and of gravitation, become solids, resulting in the formation of land and the consequent refluence of the water which would be collected into seas, while "the dry land would appear." This, by the fiat of God, was made to "bring forth grass, and herbs, and fruit-trees yielding fruit after their kind,"--which designates the third "day."

      Under the perpetual influence of the same laws and agencies, those distant vapors which, up to this time, had never been wholly dissipated even for a short while, would now be removed from the face of heaven, and the sun, and moon, and stars, would, for the first time, become visible to the earth as the centers or "bearers" of that light which had previously served but to disclose its gloom and desolation. This ends the fourth "day."

      The water would now have become sufficiently cool to be inhabited by living creatures, and such were created as were adapted to its present state; together with such fowls as could live in the earth by flying over its interminable marshes and gloomy swamps. This marked the fifth "day".

      Finally, when the earth had become prepared for them, and filled with food to sustain them, "cattle, and creeping things, and beasts of the earth," were formed, which prepared the way for the formation of man, the highest order of terrestrial existence, and lord of all preceding creations. [302]

      Such is a hasty sketch of the history of creation, as written upon the enduring rocks, and shells, and fossils of the earth, compared with the same account as written upon the page of revelation. The two records perfectly correspond and harmonize. Science requires revelation to make no change in its periods, or in the succession of its facts. On the contrary, every stratum of the earth's crust, with every bone and shell it contains, is a standing monument to the truth of the Bible. And when we reflect that one who lived three thousand years before the science of geology was in existence--a science so ample in its range and so startling in its revelations--should yet have described with the most marvelous accuracy what God had previously written on the deep-bedded strata of the earth, we are profoundly convinced of his inspiration, and ask for no higher evidence than the testimony of the rocks. All the demand made by science in this case, is to extend the meaning of the word "day," and make it the representative of an indefinite period--make it yield what is necessary to the known "demands of its subject matter."

      Although this subject already occupies more space than perhaps it should, we cannot feel satisfied to dismiss it without calling attention to some remarks in the last work of the lamented Hugh Miller. He takes the position that God gave to Moses a vision of the successive scenes in the creation drama,⁴ just as he afterwards gave to prophets visions of what was subsequently to take place. The one [303] was, as it were, a prophecy of the past, the other of the future.⁵

      "From every view of the case,"--says this distinguished geologist, "a prophetic exhibition of the pre-Adamic scenes and events by vision seems to be the one best suited to the opening chapters of a revelation vouchsafed for the accomplishment of moral, not scientific purposes, and at once destined to be contemporary with every stage of civilization, and to address itself to minds of every various caliber, and every different degree of enlightenment." From this argument he advances to Dr. Kurtz's rule of interpretation--that the representations of pre-human events which rest upon revelation are to be handled from the same point of view, and expounded by the same laws, as the prophecies and representations of future times and events, which also rest upon revelation; and continues:--

      "History is the surest interpreter of revealed prophecies which referred to events posterior to the times of the prophet,"--(because in that history we find the subject matter of the prediction,)--"in what shall we find the surest interpretation of the revealed prophecies that referred to events anterior to his time? In what light, or on what principle shall we most correctly read the prophetic drama of creation? In the light, I reply, of scientific discovery; on the principle that the clear and certain [304] must be accepted, when attainable, as the proper exponents of the doubtful and obscure. What fully-developed history is to the prophecy which of old looked forward, fully developed science is to the prophecy which of old looked backward."⁶

      The reader is not called upon to accept either of the above ways of reconciling the language of revelation with the facts of science; some other way not specified may be better. These are given in illustration of the position that whenever, and in whatever way, the subject matter of any communication is clearly known, the words of that communication must yield what is necessary to its natural requirements.

      The general meaning of a word must be modified to the extent required by flee scope or design of the passage in which it occurs.

      The design may be known, says Horne, either from its being expressly mentioned; from the express conclusion added by the writer at the end of an argument; from a knowledge of the time, occasion, and circumstances of the writing; or from careful and repeated perusals of the whole book or epistle.

      Whatever design the writer had in view in penning his composition, it is evident that he selected and arranged [305] his words and arguments with reference to it. It hence becomes a matter of the first importance to ascertain in the outset the general scope or object of the whole book or epistle, and the special design of each several part, and then to cast the light of this knowledge upon the words employed in seeking to carry out that design. This brings the reader into sympathy with the writer, furnishes him with the thread upon which his materials are strong, and conducts him to the goal to which it was intended he should be brought.

      As no rule is more capable, when conscientiously observed, of leading to the truth, so there is no one the violation of which has resulted in greater or more numerous perversions of Scripture. The various "doctrines"⁷ which have sprung up in the church from age to age, have all drawn proof from the Scriptures by quoting them in utter disregard of this rule; quoting them to sustain propositions which had never entered into the mind of their writers, but whose words admit of being wrested into giving them a seeming support. This might be shown with fearful clearness by pointing to the marginal references of the various confessions, disciplines; and catechisms of our current Protestantism. But as we would not needlessly excite the opposition of their advocates, and as the claim to infallibility put forth by the Romish Church seems to invite scrutiny, we will exemplify our remark, and the [306] importance of our rule, by exhibiting before the reader a few of her exegetical triumphs.

      The direction given--James, v. 14, 15--for the elders of the church to pray for one sick, and to anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord, for his recovery, is held to teach extreme unction, to be administered when, and only when, there is no hope of recovery! It is evident that the Apostle does not design to teach this extreme unction, and that his words do not teach it when interpreted in the light of his design. "If thy brother trespass against thee, tell it to the church," was one of the scriptural authorities for that stupendous and iniquitous civil jurisdiction towards which the church so long aimed, and which finally became so formidable! The right to ordain kings rested, according to Boniface VIII., upon Heb. v. 4: "No man taketh this honor to himself, but he that is called of God as was Aaron." Some Protestants have sought to rival the "Vicar of Christ," in the accuracy with which they apply the above text. "I am the good shepherd;" "Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers;" "He that is spiritual judgeth all things;" such were the texts upon which the extravagant claims to papal domination rested. The power to "bind and loose," justified the inimitable Hildebrand in loosing the subjects of a foreign monarch from their allegiance! But enough. The mistake in all these cases is the same--a failure to observe the rule we have laid down concerning the design of a passage. Hundreds of other examples might be given under this rule, but let these suffice. [307]

      The various historical circumstances connected with the use of a given word must be allowed their just and natural influence in restricting or enlarging its meaning.

      This rule has a wide range, and is intended to include every necessary consideration not specified in those which have gone before. It requires--1. That due attention be given to the Dispensation in which the passage occurs, and to which it alludes. Of the importance of this we had occasion to speak in the previous part. 2. That the exact date of the writing, as nearly as it may be known, shall have necessary consideration. 3. The author of the book or epistle, with all that may be known of his peculiar style, modes of expression, and his location and circumstances at the time he wrote. 4. The persons addressed; their character, attainments, prejudices, wants, and difficulties. 5. Contemporary profane history; to which we may add an intimate acquaintance with the various religious and philosophical sects, the customs of idolators, the celebrated games and contests, the mode of warfare, with its implements of defense and attack, the recognized rites of hospitality, the peculiar construction of habitations,--and, in a word, all that knowledge of antiquity which is necessary to enable us to place ourselves, as it were, back in the condition of those then living.

      Such are the circumstances, to disregard which, and to read the Bible only in the light of those that surround [308] ourselves, will almost inevitably lead us into error; but which, if duly weighed and faithfully heeded, will enable us to understand that book just as they understood it to whom its several parts were at first respectively addressed.

      Having found it necessary frequently to illustrate the importance of attending to the circumstances, we need dwell no longer upon it in this place; and having been led in the first book--in order to dispose finally of the Mystic Method--to dissertate at some length on the rules which were deemed specially applicable to the figurative language of Scripture, we are now at the end of what remained to be accomplished.

      But before dismissing the subject of this part we will devote a few paragraphs to a brief review of what we have attempted to accomplish in it; while we solicit a comparison of what it contains with the larger works on the same subject which have so long and so deservedly maintained their place as authorities.

      And first, we would call attention to the form or construction of our imperfectly presented scheme. It all rests upon two axioms, which are at bottom substantially the same, and which we have shown to be, in their essential nature, identical with the axioms of science. The truth of these gives birth to the two leading or general principles, which, as has been said, contain within themselves the rules which are respectively found under them; rules which, while they add nothing new to the fundamental principles, serve to explain and develop them, and to point out and illustrate the mode of their application. [309]

      In the second place, we would invoke attention to the completeness of this scheme. Few as are the rules, and fewer still as are the principles--all of which may be committed to memory in a few minutes--they yet seem, to our mind, to cover the whole ground, and to exhaust the whole subject. The first principle, with its rules, will enable us to determine with the accuracy of science--provided the axioms be true--the primary sense of words; while the second, with its rules, will enable us to determine with equal precision, their secondary senses, or their special meaning in any given case--and these are all. This is the whole extent of the inquiry. There seems to be nothing left to chance or caprice; nothing but what is thoroughly provided for; nothing in a state of uncertainty.

      Again, the simplicity of these principles and rules may be worthy of attention. They are just such as the mind of every reader will recognize, the moment it understands them, as being what anybody would have thought of. And this very simplicity may have the effect of preventing superficial readers from perceiving their value, and the thick clouds of darkness they are calculated to dissipate. But if they are, indeed, as exhaustive and accurate as we have sought to make them, we trust that their being obvious to every man's common sense will not long prove an obstacle in the way of their adoption.

      That they will, prima facie, appear to be but a partial and imperfect exhibition of their subject, need not be thought strange, when we reflect upon the multiplicity of the rules which have hitherto been in use. In such a [310] conclusion, we should be ready ourselves most heartily to concur, if the roles we have laid down were destitute, like those of the eminent authors referred to, of the controlling influence and pervading spirit of a well-defined scientific and reliable method. They were forced to supply, as well as they were able, by a multiplication of particular directions applicable to every peculiarity in the Scriptures, the want of a method which could embrace those specialties in general laws. Hence their works partake largely of the character of commentaries. They had first to interpret difficult passages and peculiarities without rules, before they could make a rule for others; and when made, it rested, perhaps, not upon the essential nature of language, but upon their interpretation. Many of their rules are applicable to only the fewest number of cases, while there are many others which can only be necessary in the formative stage of hermeneutical science.

      It has been thus, however, with almost every science. It has commenced with the collection and rude classification of large numbers of facts, and the determination of various special principles; and then, long afterwards in most cases, those materials have been re-classified, and those specialties generalized into laws higher and more comprehensive; while its redundancies, which served the temporary purpose of patching its rents and covering its constitutional deficiencies, have been left out altogether as no longer necessary. In illustration of this point, take the following rule from Horne's Introduction: "An obscure, doubtful, ambiguous, or figurative text, must never [311] be interpreted in such sense as to make it contradict a plain one." This rule is strictly correct, and, in the formative stage of biblical science, it was doubtless useful. But what service can it now render us? It does not tell us how to interpret obscure, or ambiguous language, but how it must not be interpreted. It was based upon the conviction of the author that the science was then so imperfect that it could not lead to truth, and, therefore, it was necessary for him to do what he could to prevent it from leading to error. But now, with the inductive method to guide us, it would seem to be the eeriest trifling to give a formal expression to a caution which is evidently embraced in its very nature.

      Again, he says: "The literal meaning of words must be retained more in the historical books of Scripture than in those which are poetical." Very true; but how much more? And to what extent is it to be retained in the poetical Scriptures? These are the very things we wish to know--things immediately suggested to the mind by the rule--but which the rule does not tell us.

      Once more: "In fixing the sense exhibited by a metaphor, the comparison ought never to be extended too far." We grant the truth of the remark, but where is the rule in it? It is absolutely impossible to tell from it how far he would have us extend the comparison. It is a measuring-stick of whose length we are wholly ignorant. Thus we might go on and mention rule after rule, every one of which is true, and many of which were more or less important in their day, but very few of which satisfy the [312] requirements of what a rule should be. They are very much as if a natural philosopher should lay down as a rule, "that, in making a classification of animals, too much attention must not be paid to the differences in size." Or, "that, in determining the nature of plants, their varieties of color must not be insisted on;" "in comparing metals, the comparison must never be extended too far;" "in estimating the mechanical force of a lever, the material must always be supposed to be sound."

      All these are rules--rules, too, which are correct, and of the highest degree of generality; but we fancy that science would make but little progress if it had none better. And yet such as these have swelled the volumes of sacred hermeneutics; and they have been explained, applied, and illustrated, as though they really contributed to the science of interpretation. At the same time it affords us pleasure to say, that from nearly every work on the subject which has fallen into our hands, we have been able to draw out from this mass of redundant matter the true and natural principles of inductive exegesis: and it has been with regret and surprise that we have found these principles arranged according to no just method, and formed into no natural system.

      We have made a feeble effort to supply this evident deficiency; and the result is before the reader. It is hoped that, however imperfectly the design has been carried out, the work will at least show the necessity and the practicability of interpreting the original Scriptures according to [313] the only method which has ever been successfully pursued in any other department of study.⁸

      But, alas! what are rules; what are scientific principles; what the clearest demonstration of the Holy Spirit himself, to those whose hearts are not imbued with the love of truth--whose delight is not in the law of the Lord--who do not wish to be taught his ways, nor to walk in his paths? How unspeakably important that every student of the Bible (for we have not sought to give a method that will supersede the necessity of study) should honestly examine his own heart, and strive earnestly to eradicate every vestige of prejudice, until he become perfectly willing to

or whatever it be, or wheresoever it lead, while he should [314] ever remember, as he learns, that unless he be a doer of the word, and not a hearer only, he is but deceiving himself!

      And if the devout Christian shall be led, in the providence of God, to accept the method and rules herein laid down, as the means best calculated to facilitate his efforts to "grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ," we are sure that his heart will respond to what we would recommend as their crowning excellence, namely: That this method should be pursued, and these rules observed, in the exercise of continual prayer to Him who is the source of all wisdom and understanding.

      And the author would himself be recreant to his profoundest sense of obligation, if he did not here record, that whatever is good or useful in the work which he now brings to a close, is owing to the blessing of his Heavenly Father, bestowed in answer to earnest and importunate supplication. [315]

[TOOS 291-315]