other inspired writers, who imprecate evil upon their adversaries, and pray for the divine vengeance upon them?

"It has been suggested," says a writer,* "by some interpreters, and among them the venerable Dr. Scott, that many of those passages which appear, in our English version, as imprecatory-as expressing a wish or desire for the infliction of evil-should be rendered as a simple affirmation, or as merely declaratory of what will take place in regard to the wicked; on the ground, that the verb, in the original, is in the future tense; whereas, our translation has given it an optative, or imprecatory signification-the Hebrew language having no peculiar form to express the various senses of the optative.

"But what shall be said of the numerous passages where the verb is in the imperative? For example: 'Pour out thine indignation upon them; let thy wrathful anger take hold upon them.'

"What shall be affirmed in relation to the texts, where those are pronounced blessed who take vengeance upon an enemy! Happy shall he be who rewardeth thee as thou hast served us! Happy shall he be that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones!'

"In what manner, again, shall we vindicate those passages, where the righteous are described as looking with complacency-feasting their eyes, as it were, upon the calamities of their oppressors! The righteous shall rejoice when he seeth the vengeance; he shall wash his feet in the blood of the wicked.'

"It would manifestly, therefore, be of no avail, if we were permitted to render certain passages in a declaratory or prophetic sense, which are now rendered as indicating a wish, or desire, whatever might be the truth as to other passages: The difficulty would exist in regard to certain passages in its full extent."

⚫ Bibliotheca Sacra, vol. i. p. 100. Art. "Imprecations in the Scriptures.”

Other methods have been adopted, for the purpose of obvi ating a difficulty, sufficiently perplexing; none of which, however, give any satisfaction. The writer, already cited, has suggested a mode of interpretation, entitled to great consideration, and which will, it is believed, in a good measure, account for this usage of the sacred writers.

The principle alluded to will be best illustrated by reference to a recent atrocious murder, committed in a small village, near Auburn, in the state of New York.

A man, by the name of Freeman, recently liberated from the Auburn prison, where he had been confined for several years, for stealing a horse from a Mr. Van Ness, presents himself, at night, at the door of the latter, after the family had retired, and requests admittance. Ignorant of the name and character of the applicant, Mr. Van Ness opens the door; upon which, the murderous assailant kills him instantly, by stabbing him. He then proceeds to the bedroom of Mrs. Van Ness, whom he also kills, together with her child. Mrs. Wykoff, the mother-in-law of Mr. Van Ness, is next attacked, and murdered; and, finally, a hired man, Van Arsdale, is dangerously, if not mortally wounded. Having thus glutted his revenge, the murderer makes his escape.

The morning following disclosed to the inhabitants a deed of darkness, more atrocious, probably, than any which had before stained the annals of their village. Every one was horror struck. Every spectator of the tragedy, for the time, held his breath. And, as the news of the shocking deed was heralded abroad, the same feeling possessed every bosom that heard it. One sentiment pervaded the state and the nation. What is the nature of these emotions?

A primary element is indignation. Before we have had time to reflect, there is an instant, a spontaneous gush of the emotion of anger toward the evil doer. We cannot prevent it, if we would. It is prior to all deliberation. In its first

out-break, it is above control. It is outraged nature, that will have vent.

Another element is compassion towards the injured party. We have an instinctive pity for those who have been suddenly assaulted and murdered. Our hearts rush towards them with the warmest compassion.

Another, and a principal ingredient, is a sense of justice. We instinctively wish the author of the crime might be immediately taken. Every hour's delay is felt as a fraud upon justice. Every heart is ready to pray the Omniscient Jehovah to discover his retreat. Every one is ready to go forth to the search.

And, although this be, as to the indignation and compassion, a feeling of comparatively short duration, not so our sense of justice. It grows stronger with the lapse of time. The more we revolve the circumstances—the deeper we look into the atrocity of the outrage perpetrated—the more we desire the infliction of a just penalty upon the guilty perpetrator of the deed.

This appears to be an original principle of our nature; it is a simple and ultimate fact. In the first place, it is instantaneous in its manifestation. Its movements are as rapid as It gives no notice of its coming; neither can we

the light.

stay it. In the second place, it is universal, and, therefore, original. It has shown itself in all ages; in every state of society, and period of human life; among the rudest, and most refined. Wherever the voice of a brother's blood has cried from the ground, it has found an answering echo in every bosom, no matter whether in the midst of the most polished community, or the remotest outskirts of pagan society.

Let us advance one step farther. This feeling is not necessarily accompanied with any malice or ill-will toward the criminal. We wish that he may be taken. We ardently desire, and pray that he may suffer punishment. But all

this is not because we desire to witness the sufferings of a human being, or because those sufferings, in themselves, are pleasant to contemplate. We have no malice, or private revenge, to gratify. But our feeling is, that it is right that he should suffer. The good of society requires it. There is something within us that is not satisfied; at least, not until a wrong has been repaired.

"The connection of this original principle of our nature," remarks the writer already referred to, "with the imprecations in the Psalms, and other parts of the Bible, is obvious. If it does not account for all, it still lies at the foundation of a large portion of them. In other words, these imprecatory passages are justified by a primary and innocent feeling of our nature. Were we placed in the condition of the sacred penmen, we should feel, and properly feel, as they felt. Let any right-minded reader look at the lives of Antiochus Epiphanes, of the first Herod, of some of the Roman emperors, or of the leaders in the French revolution, and fail, if he can, to rejoice-yea, exult-when the same cup is wrung out to them, which they had mingled for others. The feeling in the minds of those who penned the fifty-fifth and sixtyninth psalms was not malice; it was indignation, excited by cruelty and injustice, and the desire that the crimes should be punished. They doubtless followed the precept, 'Be angry, and sin not.' If we were acquainted with the circumstances which called forth the imprecatory psalms, we should doubtless find, as the cause, or occasion, striking cases of treachery, practised villany, and unblushing violations of law."

PROVERBS.

PRAYER OF THE WICKED.

The sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination unto the Lord: but the prayer of the upright is his delight.-Proverbs xv. 8.

SUPPOSE a wicked or impenitent man puts the question to me-" Sir, is it my duty to pray?"

Now, as a minister of Jesus Christ, authorized and required to point out his duty, according to the Scriptures, I should reply, "Most certainly. It is your duty, and the duty of all other men, to pray. It is a service enjoined, both by the light of nature and the voice of revelation."

"But," says he, "I am considered to be an impenitent man. Can it be the duty of such a man to pray?"

"Yes," I reply, "as truly his duty, as the duty of the Christian. Why not?"

He objects: "The Scriptures declare that 'the sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination unto the Lord.'-'The Lord is far from the wicked; but he heareth the prayer of the righteous.'' He that turneth away his ear from hearing the law, even his prayer shall be abomination.' Do not these passages forbid me to pray?"

"And, if so, my friend, are you not forbid to plow? Another scripture says: The plowing of the wicked is sin.' Prov. 21: 4. Will you, therefore, consider yourself as forbid to plow ?"

"That I must do," he replies; "the necessities of myself and family require it. Besides, it is enjoined upon a man to provide for his family."

“And yet, every furrow you turn, as a wicked man, you sin. And every prayer you offer, as a wicked man, you sin. Yet you must plow, and you must pray."

"Then I must sin."