The Illuminated Bible and the Living Epistle
Before the days of printing, the copyists sometimes took great pains with their manuscripts, and Bibles were then elaborately embellished. Traced in silver and gold and brilliant colours, occasionally executed on tinted parchment, the mere letters were often a gorgeous picture; and such illuminated manuscripts will always awaken the astonishment and delight of the tasteful antiquarian.
We do not print our Bibles in silver and gold; nor have we verses marked out from the others by their vermilion ink or bolder character. And yet, we have sometimes thought that every careful reader can illuminate his own copy as he proceeds. The book is all bright with passages which at one time or another have stirred or strengthened him; it is all radiant with texts which have aroused, or rebuked, or consoled him. On this verse he heard a sermon which he never can forget. This chapter is associated with some affecting event in his domestic history: and here is a paragraph which gave rise to a dialogue or meditation, ever memorable in his religious career.
Yet, were a hundred such illuminated Bibles compared, it would be found that in no two of them is the same set of passages marked and made prominent. Some may coincide; and a few emphatic sentences may be common to all: but, according to individual peculiarities or providential circumstances, it will turn out that portions fraught with glory to one eye, are obscure or ordinary to every other.
To take two instances. Suppose that each man were to mark in vermilion the verse that first convinced him of sin, or first made him anxious for the saving of his soul. In the Bible of the Apostle Paul, the tenth command would be inscribed in red letters; for, as he tells us, “I had not known sin, except the commandment had said, Thou shalt not covet.” In the Bible of Alexander Henderson, it would be, “He that entereth not by the door into the sheepfold, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber;” for that was the shaft which pierced the conscience of the unconverted minister. In the Bible of the Ironside soldier, the rubric would be found at Ecclesiastes xi. 9; for it was there that the bullet stopped, which but for the interposing Bible, would have pierced his bosom; and when the battle was over, he read, “Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes: but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment.”
Or, suppose that each were to mark in golden letters the text which has been to him the gate of heaven; the text through whose open lattice a reconciled God has looked forth on him, or through whose telescope he first has glimpsed the Cross. The Ethiopian chamberlain would mark the fifty-third of Isaiah; for it was when reading about the Lamb led to the slaughter, that his eye was directed to the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world, and he went on his way rejoicing. The English martyr, Bilney, would indicate the faithful saying, “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief; “for it was in sight of these words that the burden fell from his back which fasts and penances had only rendered more weighty. There was” a stricken deer “who had long been panting for the water-brooks, but he had yet found no comfort; when, one day, listlessly taking up a Testament, it opened at the words, u Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past,” and instantly he realised the sufficiency of the atonement, and embraced the gospel: and, doubtless, the Bard of Olney would signalise by the most brilliant memorial the spot where the Sun of Righteousness first shone into his soul. — “Now unto the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God, be honour and glory for ever and ever. Amen.” These were the words which instantly converted into a living temple the calm and stately mind of Jonathan Edwards; and we may be sure that, — -like Jacob, who, at Luz, would always see lingering the light of the ladder, — every time he returned to the passage, even in his most cursory perusal, the devout theologian would perceive a surviving trace of that manifestation, which into his vacant, wistful soul brought “the only wise God,” and in glorifying that God gave him an object worthy of the vastest powers and the longest existence.
Such is the divine variety of Scripture; and thus from the stores of religious biography might be compiled a sort of histoiical commentary, showing what service in the way of “doctrine, reproof, correction, and instruction in righteousness,” the different passages have done. It would be found that in this quiver there are hundreds of arrows which have pierced the conscience and convinced of sin. It would be found that from this tree of life many leaves have dropped, and proved effectual to the healing of such wounds. It would be found that in this garden there hardly grows an herb, but some visitor has been regaled by its beauty or revived by its fragrance; and those which have not been sweet to the taste, have, in their very bitterness, yielded a salutary tonic. How many a text should we find invested with its true and touching legend! This was the lamp which lighted such a pilgrim through that ominous eclipse; and this was the hidden manna which, in the howling wilderness, restored his soul. Here is the smooth stone with which he struck down that terrible temptation, and here is the good sword with which he cut off its head. Here is the harp on which he discoursed sweet music when God gave him songs in the night; and there is the staff with which he was comforted when he walked through the valley.
An illuminated Bible makes an illustrative reader; and if, in your private perusal, you come ever and anon on passages made dear and memorable by their bearing on your personal history, in your own turn you will, in some measure, supply that commentary which, of all others, is the greatest desideratum, — a legible
The Illuminated Bible
Christian, — an epistle of Christ that may be known and read of all men.
Perhaps our reader is a young man. Perhaps he is a young man of enthusiasm and energy. In exuberant health, and with spirits briskly bounding, he has the prospect not only of living long, but living largely — a man who will feel in every fibre all the influences of the coming age, and who will be himself no mean influence in it.
Brother, look before you. “Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his way?” In this abundance of life, and this measure of ability, God has given you a solemn trust. You cannot help telling on others for good or evil. And when a few years are past, you will have done a great deal to deepen the perdition, or to heighten the bliss, of yourself and others.
Methinks we hear you say, “I don’t want to be vicious; nay, I would rather be uncommonly virtuous. I would like to be a better man than most of your so-called Saints. I am sick of their affectations and hypocrisies. I cannot bear their cant. I want to be in every action sincere and earnest, — every atom true. I cannot fill up a ready-made formula: I cannot stow myself away in the stiff exuviae of a misshapen antiquity. I must be original, independent, real. I shall make my own model, and then I shall make myself.”
By all means be genuine; nay, by all means be original. But, on the part of a creature, what is the truest originality? Is it not the closest copying of perfection? that is, the most implicit imitation of the Creator’s originals? When Phidias or Praxiteles took a block of marble, did he say to himself, “Now, I shall make anew thing under the sun: — I shall make a figure which can suggest to the beholder nothing that moveth upon the face of the earth or in the waters under the earth .- — something so novel, that it has never entered into the heart of man to conceive it, and nobody will guess where the model was found?” Had he said this, he would have produced an original of that sorry sort which we call an oddity, — something very grotesque and ungainly, — something like an African fetich or a Hindoo pagod. But the great artist said,” I shall make, as near as possible, a perfect man. Gathering up hints of strength and symmetry wherever I can find them, I shall devoutly endeavour to realise that exquisite model which was in the eye of the Divine Artist himself and, with the humility of genius, content to copy, — limb by limb, and lineament by lineament, there came out from the dead rock the most unique of all originalities, — a perfect figure, a glorified humanity, — a vision of power and joy which makes us understand how very good, once on a time, was this material frame, — how fearfully and wonderfully made at first, — how wonderful and fearful the Resurrection may see it all again.
The Belvidere Apollo is the most unique and original of sculptures, because it is the most earnest and successful of imitations. As far as he could catch sight of it, the artist kept constantly in view the model supplied by the Creator; and it is by combining so skilfully every fragment of peculiar beauty or vigour which came in his way, and by copying these so faithfully, that he has realised such a splendid conception.
Now, making one proviso — remarking that all genuine goodness is spontaneous — that it is excellence followed for its own sake, not mimicked for admiration’s sake — you will find that that goodness will turn out the most original not which makes its own model, or strikes out its own style, but which most closely copies Perfection. This book supplies such a model. It exhibits a Pattern-Man, — a wearer of our intellect and will and affections, who never spoke a word that was not the right one, and who never did a right deed, so that even He Himself could have done it better. This peerless Pattern, — this Man so elevated, yet so tender, — so loyal to God, yet so loving to those around Him, — so separate from sin, yet so void of sanctimoniousness, — the Word sets before you, and God says, Be ye followers of Christ. Walk as Christ also walked. Let the mind be in you which was in Christ Jesus. And a few sublime spirits, made generous by the Spirit of God, have been seized with a blessed ambition, and not because men would admire them, but because they were smitten by goodness so charming, they have gazed on it, and pondered it, and imbibed it, till they were sensibly changed into the same image, and men felt, u There you go, so noble, so lovely. We know where you have been: you could not have attained an excellence so charming, had not Jesus Christ once been in the world, and had you not somehow been brought in contract with Him.”
The most polished Englishman of the last century was Philip Dormer Stanhope, the fourth Earl of Chesterfield. High-born and well-bred, clever, eloquent, and witty, and endowed with a large amount of natural amenity, he was bent on distinction. To dazzle his contemporaries was the business of his life. He was a man who made his own model. From the speeches of Cicero, from the epigrams of Martial, from the saloons of Paris and Versailles, he gleaned the several ingredients of classic grace and modern refinement, and sought to combine them in the courtier, the statesman, and orator. He had no God. In the shrine where the Most High should be, there was a dim outline which looked very like a colossal Stanhope carrying a young Ches-The Illuminated Bible
terfield in its arms; but, unless this mixture of self-idolatry and son-worship deserve the name, there was no religion in the man. He had his reward. At a levee, or in a drawing-room, he moved “the admired of all admirers.” Few made such formidable speeches in Parliament. None uttered so many brilliant sayings in society. He got ribbons, plaudits, diplomatic appointments, the smiles of the fair, the envy of his peers; everything except true human affection; everything except the approbation of God and good men. Should any one wish to repeat the man, the mould is still extant. It will be found in Lord Chesterfield’s “Letters to his Son;” — a book of which our great moralist said, in effect, that “it inculcates the morals of a profligate with the manners of a dancing-master.” But before taking more trouble, it is well to know the result. At the close, he confessed that his life had been as joyless as it had been selfish and hollow: “I have recently read Solomon with a kind of sympathetic feeling. I have been as wicked and as vain, though not as wise as he: but now I am old enough to feel the truth of his reflection, 4 All is vanity and vexation of spirit,” Repartees sparkled on his dying lips, but all was dreary within, all was darkness ahead. The fame for which he lived, expired before himself; and now truth declines to write his epitaph, and virtue has no garlands for his grave.
and the Living Epistle. T43
Still a boy, while this old worldling lay dying, William Wilberforce soon grew up, and the grace of God made him a Christian. That is, it taught him to live not to himself, but to the glory of God. It taught him to worship. It showed him that he was not his own proprietor; that he had no right to make his own enjoyment his chief pursuit; and that he must put all his faculties at God’s disposal. In the Bible he found the model on which God would have him form his character. He studied it. He prayed over it. He watched himself, and struggled with his evil tendencies. God’s Spirit strengthened him, and gave him wonderful self-conquest. Retaining all his natural elasticity, his wit, his bright fancy, his melodious voice and fluent speech, — his random hilarity was exchanged for conscientious kindness, and all his gifts of mind and station were devoutly laid at the feet of his Redeemer. With his pen he expounded to the highest classes that system of vital piety which Whitefield and Wesley had already preached to the populace; and carrying it to the dinnertables of Clapham, and the evening assemblies of Piccadilly, many who fancied religion too severe in the sermons of Bishop Porteus or the strictures of Hannah More, confessed to its loveliness in the life of Mr Wilberforce. Then, in his public career, — keeping himself on purpose “pure,” — avoiding office, never using for personal ends the vast ascendancy over others which his fascinating goodness gave him, any more than the prestige of his mighty Yorkshire constituency; alike on the floor of St Stephen’s and on the platform of Freemasons’ Tavern, he consecrated to every humane and Christian cause” a persuasive and pathetic eloquence, chastened by a pure taste, varied by extensive information, enriched by classical allusion, sometimes elevated by the more sublime topics of Holy Writ — the thoughts and the spirit
‘That touched Isaiah’s hallowed lips with fire.’”*
How much the individual advocacy of one so loved and honoured effected for Missionary and Bible Societies, it would be difficult to tell; but it is harldy metaphor to say that Africa wept when he died. His country will never forget him: for although poets, warriors, and statesmen in numbers repose under the roof of the Abbey, England recognises no originality more illustrious, no heroism more patriotic, than his who led the campaign of humanity so long, and who achieved the abolition of the Slave Trade.
The model on which Wilberforce was formed still exists. The reader will find it in the book which we have sought to recommend; and if, in exploring that book, he finds thoughts to which no one yet has done justice, philanthropic sugges-
* Lord Brougham. tions which no one has yet carried out, features of excellence which no one yet has exhibited, he will just repeat the experience of a thousand predecessors, and still will leave a virgin-field for the researches of all who follow.
The Book of Nature is not exhausted. Gutta percha and chloroform, coal-gas and steamcarriages, sun-pictures and electric telegraphs, have all come to light within the last few years; and greater things than these are coming. All that is wanting is an explorer who distinctly understands what it is that he desires, and who will accept the answer when Nature flings it at his feet.
The Book of Revelation is not exhausted either, In our own day it has yielded treasures long latent; and we have seen such things come out of it as, “The Astronomical Discourses,” and “Elijah the Tishbite.” Within the memory of some now living, it has yielded Sabbath Schools and Foreign Missions, Prison-visiting, Ragged Schools, and Convict-reformation. It has emancipated our slaves. It has ransomed from ignorance and bondage our factory children. It has sent Scripture-readers and Evangelists into all our towns. It has given our higher classes kinder and fairer feelings towards their less favoured brethren. And scantily as it is even yet admitted into the faith and affections of Christendom, it is the benevolence of the Bible which at
K this moment keeps its spirit from souring, and it is the “blessed hope” of the Bible which keeps its heart from breaking: just as the existence of that Bible is a pledge that its merciful Creator has in reserve for the world a long Sabbath of peace and righteousness.
Yet, like the good gifts which Nature retained in her bosom, till the sage discovered them and handed them forth to his fellows, all these great thoughts and good schemes were treasures hid in the Scripture, till Chalmers and Krummacher, Raikes and Sadler, Sarah Martin and Mrs Fry, found them out and brought them forth. But the book is not exhausted; and if you really wish to serve your fellows, this Mentor will show you the way. With its guidance, you will find that the true “excelsior” is humility, and that, like Pascal, Edwards, and Vinet, the believer on his knees sees further than the philosopher on tiptoe. You will find that the book, which, among its affectionate exponents, has yielded characters so distinct, yet so excellent, as Arnold and Buxton, Howard and Williams, Martyn and M’Cheyne, can make you as superior to your present self, as these men were superior to ordinary mortals. In one word, you will find that in things intellectual, he is likely to be the mightiest master who knows the Bible best, and most meekly trusts in God; and in things moral and philanthropic, — in conduct and character, — he is likely to be the greatest original who is the closest copyist — the most implicit imitator of that Second Adam who is the great theme of the Bible Revelation.