Joshua the Prosaic

There is a type of human character which belongs to all ages and to all nations, but which is absent from all wsatzonal galleries. I allude to the type of humanity called prosaic. When a nation employs the hand of a painter to place on canvas the figures of the men she deems heroic, she never includes among these the prosaic man. She may include the man immersed in ordinary business; Confucius was such a man — and China painted Confucius. But then, Confucius was a business dzrector. He was not the sudject of commercial and municipal rules; he was the maker of these rules; that itself removes him from prosaic associations. The prosaic man is the subordinate man, the man who obeys orders. It

matters very little in what sphere these orders 218 are received. The cleaner of telescopes for the observations of a Galileo is not a whit nearer to the stars than is the carrier of parcels for a firm of merchandise. He, too, is but a carrier of parcels; he is not the inaugurator of his own work — he is deriving his movement from the impact of others.

I have said that such a man figures in no national gallery. But he figures in the one gallery that is zo¢ national — the Gallery of the Bible. Here there emerges into heroic prominence that type which everywhere else has been esteemed the reverse of heroic — the man who obeys orders. We should have missed something if in this Gallery there had been no place prepared for 42m, if the sphere of subordinate duty had been the one spot where the possibility of heroism was not recognised. Hitherto, as these successive figures have passed before us, we have not found a representative of subordinate duty. All the spheres we have examined have been those of leaders or of such as wzsh to be leaders. Adam wants

to rule the Garden. Abel wants an independent worship. Enoch and Noah want to change the fashion. Abraham seeks to found a state. Isaac labours to consolidate a household. Jacob aspires to establish a priesthood. Joseph dreams of a city of gold. Moses aims at universal legislation. There has been no place as yet for the follower, the satellite, the man who obeys orders. There has been no recognition of the hewers of wood and the drawers of water — of those whose mission is not to plan, but to execute, and whose action constitutes three-fourths of the conduct of life. But now this recognition is coming. A figure is about to appear which is to embody the desiderated idea. That figure is Joshua. He is from beginning to end the representative of the satellite, of the men who follow. As we pass from Moses to Joshua we feel as if we were passing from poetry to prose. Practical though Moses was, his sphere was on the height. The mountain was his native element. It was on the mountain that he had to prepare for the plain. It was the soul of a poet that led

him to glorify common things; his sober practice came from his ecstatic elevation. Joshua, on the other hand, had never stood on the height, had never required to occupy it. He had not possessed the genius to discover the Promised Land. He was no explorer, no investigator, no Columbus. His work began where that of Columbus ended. When he entered on the scene zs America had been already found. Moses was moving toward the Land of Promise. Everything had been planned; everything had been arranged. All that was needed was a patient drudge to execute the orders — a man who would be content to take the servant’s place. No prophetic vision was required, no foresight, no insight. The thing wanted was rather an absence of these qualities — a man who would not look before him, who would not look within him, who would simply listen for the word of command, and do as he was bid. The head and the heart of the enterprise were already there; all that remained was “to seek a hand.

Now, this place was to be filled by Joshua.

More than any other figure of the Gallery he. represents the working man. From first to last his duties were mechanical. He began with the post of a servant, and he ended with the post of a servant. He never at any time reaped personal credit from his achievements — not even when he was head of the army. He was always indebted to circumstances. The results he achieved were stupendous; they more directly influenced the modern world than did the life of Abraham or the prime-ministry of Joseph, for the conquest of Canaan issued in the creed of Christendom. Yet Joshua comes not before us as a pioneer. He appears merely as an instrument. He seems to be led into the Promised Land. He is rather an occasion than a cause. The wreaths of victory fell not on Az. The prize of glory eluded his grasp. He was ever merely an instrument. He is only once recorded as using his own judgment — when he made a league with Gibeon; and on that occasion he was overreached. He may be. described

epigrammatically as a man who made a fortune whose acquisition was ever afterwards attributed to another. He could well have reversed the words of a later countryman and said, ‘TI have laboured, and other men have entered nto my labours — have reaped the glory of what I have sown.’

Let me now proceed to illustrate this feature of the Portrait of Joshua. We first meet with him in the battle of Rephidim. He is still a young man; but he has been intrusted with the entire command of the forces during the engagement. One would think that this was a very responsible post, and that the man who held it was the main factor in the battle. Not thus is it represented in the Great Gallery. Here, the real scene of battle is placed outside the physical combat altogether — on the top of a hill where Moses stands in prayer! The alternations of the battle do not come from the movements of the contending parties. They come from the variations of intensity with which the jetztions rise. Moses is the real combatant; the prayers of Moses are the real weapons. Are the hands of Moses lifted in supplication; then Joshua is seen to triumph. Are the hands of Moses drooping wearily; then Amalek gains ground. Does Joshua at last achieve the victory over Amalek; it is not by might, nor power, nor skill; it is because the supplicating hands of Moses have been held up by other hands and prevented from growing weary. The battle of Rephidim is a battle of will-force — the will-force of one not engaged in the fray. That is the Picture in the Gallery. Joshua fights with Amalek on the plain, and Amalek falls back before the sword of Joshua. But the real fighting power is not on the plain, not with the sword, not in Joshua. It is up on a neighbouring mountain, where an old man stands and prays that Joshua may win. It is this will-force called prayer that sways the battle. It is this silent thing, this voiceless thing, this unseen and unheard thing, that is the prime mover, the real mover. It is this that nerves the arm of Israel; it is this that repels the host of Amalek. Joshua might be nowhere. He is acypher, a mute, a pageant set

on the way to hide the vea, source of power.

Do not imagine that this is an accidental trait in the delineation of the great artist. It is the most deliberate touch of his pencil. The battle of Rephidim is not merely a preliminary event; it is a typical event. It is a keynote, a prelude to the whole piece. In all the shifting of the scenes there is no shifting of the principle. Joshua may be transferred from the desert to the Promised Land; he may be raised from the business of a delegate into the post of a leader; he may assume the outward robe which Moses used to wear — but, place him where you will, clothe him as you will, he never ceases to be a subaltern. His work is ever that of a subordinate. Apparently a mighty conqueror, he has at no time either the kingdom, the power, or the glory. His position is that of an instrument blown by the wind into strains of harmony. He derives no credit from his own melodies. He is a passive agent in their formation. They come not from him; they only breathe ¢hrough him; he is himself the product of a higher will.

He stands before the walls of Jericho. His

P army is equipped for battle. All is ready for the assault. Every preparation has been made to storm the city, to vindicate the military glory of the nation. The issue of the siege is not doubtful; God has promised that Israel shall possess the land. Why,then, delay! Why not give the signal to advance, and sweep like an avalanche upon the foe! So, perhaps, thinks Joshua. Not such is the will of the Almighty. The voice of God comes to him and says: ‘I send you to do great deeds, but you shall go by a lowly path — by the way of the valley. Leave the battle to Me, the shaking of the walls to Me! Take you the servan?’’s post, the menial’s post! Walk round the city in procession, you and your followers; walk, and blow the trumpets! Once every day, for six days, shall you compass it; and on the seventh day you shall compass it many times! Make no effort to break through the fortified places! J will make the breach; keep you to the marching and the blowing of the trumpets! Do not ask what is the use of your work; do not say that your talents are bound in a napkin! No man is an agent in the Azstory of this world. I alone am the agent. It is I who make the breach in the walls of every Jericho. The most brilliant deed of man is only a signal for the moving of My hand. All are but blowers of the trumpet; all are but beaters of the drum. Why should you object to be a public revelation of that which is really a universal law!’

Again. He stands on the field of Gibeon — that bloodiest and most decisive field in the war for the conquest of Canaan. Yet, decisive as it was, it owed not its finality to Joshua. The Bible virtually says that the narrative of the battle is encumbered with legend. We will try to-disentangle it from the legend. Five kings of the Amorites have combined their forces to overwhelm the little state of Gibeon. Gibeon has made a league with Israel — that is her offence. The five kings are afraid to attack Israel, but they will punish that small kingdom which has proclaimed itself her ally. Against such heavy odds Gibeon cannot stand. She sends up a cry of great despair. Joshua hears it. Should he allow his ally to perish for being an ally! MHis heart forbidsit. It is true, Gibeon has obtained the alliance by false pretences; but she fas obtained it. Joshua regards Gibeon as blind old Isaac had regarded Jacob. Gibeon, like Jacob, had obtained a promise by deceit; none the less, the promise, once given, was the will of God. It may have been wrong to make it; now that it was made, it was a part of God’s universe. Joshua will confirm the blessing to Gibeon as Isaac confirmed the blessing to Jacob. He will not let her be crushed on #zs account. He will hasten to her relief; he will defend her; he will rescue her.

And so, the army of Gibeon and the army of Israel join hands against the host of the Amorites; and there is fought one of the bloodiest fights of history. It is to me one of the most interesting battles of the Bible, because it is fought, not for revenge, not for supremacy, not even for the cause of the Hebrew race, but simply and solely for motives

humanitarian — for honour, for chivalry. It is fought in behalf of a foreign land, in the impulse of human generosity, in obedience to the claims of man as man. One would almost think that the principles of the universal Decalogue had begun to inoculate the people of Israel, and that through the roar of battle and the clang of national jealousies there were discerned already the still small voice of brotherhood.

Here, then, is an occasion for romantic heroism! Joshua has come in chivalry; will not the conflict prove his personal prowess; will not his arm this day be revealed as the conquering arm! Such we expect; but such we do not find. The struggle at Gibeon is undertaken by the generosity of Joshua; but it is decided by the elements of nature. In the midst of the combat the sky is overcast and a storm gathers. From ever-deepening clouds there pours a torrent of fierce hail, which the wind bears right into the faces of the Amorites. They are disheartened; it seems as if heaven were shooting its arrows

in favour of Israel. By and by the darkness becomes dense. The expression of the narrative is, ‘The sun became silent. It is not, ‘The sun stood still,’ as our translation has it. The silence of light is a metaphor not for continuous shining, but for ceasing to shine. We read of the morning stars ‘singing together’; this means that they. were shining together. What the Amorites see at Gibeon is not a prolonged day, but a premature night. And that night is their destruction. Beyond all things they are afraid of darkness. Their God is the sunshine. This premature sunset at Gibeon makes them feel that God has averted His countenance; He is against their enterprise, on the side of their enemies! Vain is it to strive, vain is it to dare! Panic seizes them — the panic of believing that God has hid His face. They faint, they totter, they break into fragments. Unprepared for work in the night, they have no torches — they cannot fly. But Israel has torches, for “ery God rules by

1 IT understand Joshua x. 12 to mean that Joshua saw the sky overclouding and uttered a prayer for a premature darkness so that it might confound the Amorites.

night as well as by day. And so, Israel presses forward, and the Amorites fall thick and fast. It is a crushing defeat and a deadly carnage. But @gaim is Joshua only a follower of the stream. Here, as at Rephidim, here, as at Jericho, his part has been that of a spectator. He has not been a leader; he has been a satellite. He has derived his power from influences not his own — from the wind, from the hail, from the darkness. The possession of genius has been denied him; the gift of originality has been denied him; his one merit has been that he has been content to take the lower room.

I wonder if any one realises what a merit that really is. I have said that the zational galleries do not. There are three classes of men in this world — the men in advance of their time, the men wz to their time, and the men followmg their time. The first are decidedly original; they have their place in every gallery. The second are ¢vyzmg to be original; and they have their place in many galleries. The third have no originality; they wait to obey orders;

and they have a place in zo gallery — save in that of the Bible. But I think, in preparing a place for this third class, the Bible Gallery has shown a superior discernment. For, have you considered the merit of a man like Joshua! Have you considered the extreme difficulty of doing exclusively the work of routine! That work, as I have said, comprehends three-fourths of the business of life. It is the most necessary work in the world. Without it, human society would be dissolved in a single year. But, because it is the most common work, do we imagine it is therefore the easiest! To my mind, the marvels of humanity are not the men on the mount, but the men perpetually on the plain. I think Moses a greater man than Joshua; but I can account for Moses better than I can account for Joshua. I can understand why a man of high poetic instinct and strong aspirings after glory should occasionally do a commonplace thing well. But that a man whose feet have never touched the hills, that a man whose eye has never seen the

heights, should repeat from day to day the

JOSHUA THE PROSAIC Pie ig

habitual task and make no mistake therein — this is, to me, the miracle of miracles, this is the wonder of the world!

We often express surprise that one who has for years been employed in routine work should, at the eleventh hour, make a glaring mistake. Our surprise is founded on the notion that the longer we pursue the same mechanical routine, the better we shall perform it.) libelicveit to be jjust the reverse. 1 have been told by preachers who were compelled to speak from memory, that they nowhere felt in such danger of tripping as in the Lord’s Prayer. Why so? Simply because they knew it so mechanically. Its words had become to them a matter of routine; they were so familiar that they had ceased to waken self-reflection. It is precisely the same with the reiteration of every process which is merely physical. Tell Joshua to take, each day, a certain number of steps round Jericho, tell him to blow, each day, a certain number of blasts in front of the city, and it is probable his steps will decrease in accuracy and his blasts diminish in regularity. And if, in spite of this probability, Joshua obeys to the letter, if, in spite of prognostics to the contrary, he keeps the order of the march and of the signals, ought we not to conclude that Joshua is a worthy man — a man woftthy of all reverence, deserving of all esteem, demanding a permanent place in the gallery of human souls!

The truth is, there is a kind of service that we have not sufficiently appreciated — the service given by unpoetic souls. The popular view is that unpoetic souls are better able to be drudges dy reason of their want of poetry. We say, ‘Martha is a matter-of-fact woman; it is zxatural to her to have much serving.’ It is not; it is wznatural to her; and it is so precisely because she zs a matter-of-fact woman. The service of Martha is a sacrifice to duty. She has been obliged to put duty in the place of poetic impulse. She is working under privation — the want of poetry. She is in the position of one of the blind who make baskets; she would make them better with sight, but she must do the best she can with her existing faculties; and she deserves credit for doing so well in such adverse circumstances. Now, remember that the large majority are in Martha’s position. The mass of mankind have no illuminative vision. Is it not a great credit to them that they do their work without it! Does it not show that there is a strong sacrificial power on the common plane of humanity, when the men who cannot stand on Mount Nebo nor see the burning bush in the wilderness are yet able, from. day to day, from month to month, from year to year, to go the prescribed round and perform the allotted task!

And is it not well that this merit should be acknowledged! If other galleries have neglected to acknowledge it, is it not well that the old Hebrew Bible has repaired the omission! Moses would have had his place in any gallery; Joshua has his place only here. I plead the claims of Joshua! I defend the selection which has given him a recognition in the records of the human race! I am glad he has received a niche in the temple of fame, a corner amid the representative men of the world! Let him keep that corner — let the class which he represents keep it! Let the men who toil in the vineyard for the pay of each hour receive a tribute deyond the hour — the tribute of human admiration for work done without the support of an adequate motive and under the pressure of commonplace routine! That will be our best monument

to the memory of Joshua!

Baran there are times when I get work to

do whose good I cannot see! Sometimes, before the walls of Jericho, there is put into my hand a trumpet when I think it should be a sword! Sometimes I am sent a long circuitous march when I expect to be retained for the assault! These moments are very hard to me. It is not the work that is hard; it is the want of vision. It is easy enough to blow the trumpet; it is a light thing to walk round the city. The hard thing is to see the good of it, to believe that I am not shunted from the race. Help me at such moments, O Lord, to say, ‘One step enough for me’! When the distant scene is denied me, when the gloom encircles me, when the things of to-morrow are veiled from me, help me to say, ‘One step enough for me’! When the voice of Moses is heard no more on the hill, when the Song of Miriam has been drowned by the roaring wind, when the fire of the bush has been hid by intervening trees, help me to say, ‘One step enough for me’! Let the one step be the ordered step, the commanded step! Let me not ask how the sound of my trumpet can aid the fall of Jericho! Let me not ask why I am to go round about when there is a short and easy way! If I am not to be Moses, let me be Joshua; if I am not to see the whole, let me see nothing — let me leave all to Zee! I would have no half-vision, O my Father, for half-vision is a misleading thing. Either let me see the Promised Land with Moses, or with Joshua let me be led blindfold by Thee! When I see not the Promised Land, let me feel the Promised

Hand! When I behold not Thine Ararat, let me touch Thine Avm! When I view not Thy Glory, let me have Thy Guzdance! When there is no dove from heaven, let there be a duty of the hour! When I have lost sight of Thy coming, let me strain the ear for Thy command! I shall not weep the want of the wing if only I can say, ‘One step enough for

me’!