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Expositor's Bible Commentary Lamentations 1:1 How doth the city sit solitary, that was full of people! how is she become as a widow! she that was great among the nations, and princess among the provinces, how is she become tributary! DESOLATION Lamentations 1:1-7 THE first elegy is devoted to moving pictures of the desolation of Jerusalem and the sufferings of her people. It dwells upon these disasters themselves, with fewer references to the causes of them or the hope of any remedy than are to be found in the subsequent poems, simply to express the misery of the whole story. Thus it is in the truest sense of the word a "Lamentation." It naturally divides itself into two parts-one with the poet speaking in his own person, { Lamentations 1:1-11 } the other representing the deserted city herself appealing to passing strangers and neighbouring nations, and lastly to God, to take note of her woes. { Lamentations 1:12-22 } The poem opens with a very beautiful passage in which we have a comparison of Jerusalem to a widow bereft of her children, sitting solitary in the night, weeping sorely. It would not be just to read into the image of widowhood ideas collected from utterances of the prophets about the wedded union of Israel and her Lord; we have no hint of anything of the sort here. Apparently the image is selected in order to express the more vividly the utter lonesomeness of the city. It is clear that the attribute "solitary" has no bearing on the external relations of Jerusalem-her isolation among the Syrian hills, or the desertion of her allies, mentioned a little later; { Lamentations 1:2 } it points to a more ghostly solitude, streets without traffic, tenantless houses. The widow is solitary because she has been robbed of her children. And in this, her desolation, she sits. The attitude, so simple and natural and easy under ordinary circumstances, here suggests a settled continuance of wretchedness; it is helpless and hopeless. The first wild agony of the severance of the closest natural ties has passed, and with it the stimulus of conflict; now there has supervened the dull monotony of despair. This is the lowest depth of misery, because it allows leisure when leisure is least welcome, because it gives the reins to the imagination to roam over regions of heart-rending memory or sombre apprehension, above all because there is nothing to be done, so that the whole range of consciousness is abandoned to pain. Many a sufferer has been saved by the healing ministry of active duties, sometimes resented as an intrusion. It is a fearful thing simply to sit in sorrow. The mourner sits in the night, while the world around lies in the peace of sleep. The darkness has fallen, yet she does not stir, for day and night are alike to her-both dark. She is statuesque in sorrow, petrified by pain, and yet unhappily not dead; benumbed, but alive in every sensitive fibre of her being and terribly awake. In this dread night of misery her one occupation is weeping. The mourner knows how the hidden fountains of tears which have been sealed to the world for the day will break out in the silent solitude of night; then the bravest will "wet his couch with his tears." The forlorn woman "weepeth sore"; to use the expressive Hebraism, "weeping she weepeth." "Her tears are on her cheeks"; they are continually flowing; she has no thought of drying them; there is no one else to wipe them away. This is not the frantic torrent of youthful tears, soon to be forgotten in sudden sunshine, like a spring shower; it is the dreary winter rain, falling more silently, but from leaden clouds that never break. The Hebrew poet’s picture is illustrated with singular aptness by a Roman coin, struck off in commemoration of the destruction of Jerusalem by the army of Titus, which represents a woman seated under a palm tree with the legend Judaea capta. Is it too much to imagine that some Greek artist attached to the court of Vespasian may have borrowed the idea for the coin from the Septuagint version of this very passage? The woe of Jerusalem is intensified by reason of its contrast with the previous splendour of the proud city. She had not always appeared as a lonely widow. Formerly she had held a high place among the neighbouring nations-for did she not cherish memories of the great days of her shepherd king and Solomon the magnificent? Then she ruled provinces; now she is herself tributary. She had lovers in the old times-a fact which points to faults of character not further pursued at present. How opposite is the utterly deserted state into which she is now sunk! This thought of a tremendous fall gives the greatest force to the portrait. It is Rembrandtesque; the black shadows on the foreground are the deeper because they stand sharply out against the brilliant radiance that streams in from the sunset of the past. The pitiableness of the comfortless present lies in this, that there had been lovers whose consolations would now have been a solace; the bitterness of the enmity now experienced is its having been distilled from the dregs of poisoned friendship. Against the protests of her faithful prophets Jerusalem had courted alliance with her heathen neighbours only to be cruelly deserted in her hour of need. It is the old story of friendship with the world, keenly accentuated in the life of Israel, because this favoured people had already seen glimpses of a rich, rare privilege, the friendship of Heaven. This is the irony of the situation: it is the tragic irony of all Hebrew history. Why were these people so blindly infatuated that they would be perpetually forsaking the living waters, and hewing out to themselves broken cisterns that could hold no water? The question is only surpassed by that of the similar folly on the part of those of us who follow their example in spite of the warning their fate affords, failing to see that true friendship is too exacting for ties spun from mere convenience or superficial pleasantness to bear the strain of its more serious claims. Passing on from the poetic image to a more direct view of the drear facts of the case, the author describes the hardships of the fugitives-people who had fled to Egypt, the retreat of Jeremiah and his companions. This must be the bearing of the passage which our translators render- "Judah is gone into captivity because of affliction, and because of great servitude." For if the topic were the captivity at Babylon it would be difficult to see how "affliction" and "great servitude" could be treated as the causes of that disaster; were they not rather its effects? Two solutions of this difficulty have been proposed. It has been suggested that the captivity is here presented as a consequence of the misconduct of the Jews in oppressing peoples subject to them. But the abstract words will not readily bear any such meaning; we should have expected some more explicit charge. Then it has been proposed to read the words "out of affliction," etc. , in place of the phrase "because of affliction," etc. , as though in escaping from trouble at home the Jews had only passed into a new misfortune abroad. This is not so simple an explanation of the poet’s language as that at which we arrive by the perfectly legitimate substitution of the word "exile" for "captivity." It may seem strange that the statement should be affirmed of "Judah," as though the whole nation had escaped to Egypt; but it would be equally inexact to say that "Judah" was carried captive to Babylon, seeing that only a selection from the upper classes was deported, while the majority of the people was probably left in the land. But so many of the Jews, especially those best known to the poet, were in voluntary exile, that it was quite natural for him to regard them as virtually the nation. Now upon these refugees three troubles fall. First, the asylum is a heathen country, abominable to pious Israelites. Second, even here the fugitives have no rest; they are not allowed to settle down; they are perpetually molested. Third, on the way thither they are harassed by the enemy. They are overtaken by pursuers "within the straits," a statement which may be read literally; bands of Chaldaeans would hover about the mountains, ready to pounce upon the disorganised groups of fugitives as they made their way through the narrow defiles that led out of the hill country to the southern plains. But the phrase is a familiar Hebraism for difficulties generally. No doubt it was true of the Jews in this larger sense that their opponents took advantage of their straitened circumstances to vex them in every possible way. This is just in accordance with the common experience of mankind all the world over. But while the fact of the experience is obvious, the inference to which it points like an arrow is obstinately eluded. Thus a commercial man in financial straits loses his credit at the very moment when he most needs it. We cannot say that this is a proof of spite, or even a sign of cynical indifference; because the needy person is really most untrustworthy, though his moral integrity may be unshaken, seeing that his circumstances make it probable that he will be unable to fulfil his obligations. But now it is the deeper significance of this fact that is so persistently ignored. There is perceptible at times in nature a law of compensation by the operation of which misfortune is mitigated; but that merciful law is frequently thwarted by the overbearing influence of the terrible law of the "survival of the fittest," the gospel of the fortunate, but the death-knell for all failures. If this is so in nature, much more does it obtain in human society so long as selfish greed is unchecked by higher principles. Then the world, the Godless world, can be no asylum for the miserable and unfortunate, because it will be hard upon them in exact proportion to the extremity of their necessities. Moreover, the perception that this bitter truth is not a fruit of temporary passions which may be restrained by education, but the outcome of certain persistent principles which cannot be set aside while society retains its present constitution, gives to it the adamantine strength of destiny. Coming nearer to the city in his mental vision, the poet next bewails deserted roads; "those ways of Zion" up which the holiday folks used to troop, clad in gay garments, with songs of rejoicing, are left so lonely that it seems as though they themselves must be mourning. It is in keeping with the imagery of these poems which personify the city, to endow the very roads with fancied consciousness. This is a natural result of intense emotion, and therefore a witness to its very intensity. It seems as though the very earth must share in the feelings of the man whose heart is stirred to its depths; as though all things must be filled with the passion the waves of which flow out to the horizon of his consciousness, till the very stones cry out. As he approaches the city, the poet is struck with a strange, sad sight. There are no people about the gates; yet here, if anywhere, we should expect to meet not only travellers passing through, but also groups of men, merchants at their traffic, arbitrators settling disputes, friends exchanging confidences, idlers lounging about and chewing the cud of the latest gossip, beggars whining for alms; for by the gates are markets, al fresco tribunals, open spaces for public meetings. Formerly the life of the city was here concentrated; now no trace of life is to be seen even at these social ganglia. The desertion and silence of the gateways gives a shock of distress to the visitor on entering the ruined city. More disappointments await him within the walls. Still keeping in mind the idea of the national festivals, and accompanying the course of them in imagination, the poet goes up to the temple. No services are proceeding; any priests who may be found still haunting the precincts of the charred ruins can only sigh over their enforced idleness; the girl-choristers whose voices would ring through the porticoes in the old times, are silent and desolate, for their mother, Jerusalem, is herself "in bitterness." In this part of the elegy our attention is directed to the cessation of the happy national assemblies with their accompaniment of public worship in songs of praise for harvest and vintage and in the awful symbolism of the altar. The name "Zion" was associated with two things, festivity and worship. It was a happy privilege for Israel to have had the inspired insight as well as the courage of faith to realise the conjunction. Even with the fuller light and larger liberty of Christianity it is rarely acknowledged among us. Our services have too much of the funeral dirge about them. The devout Israelite reserved his dirge for the death of his worship. It does not seem to have occurred to the poet that anybody could come to regard worship as an irksome duty from which he would gladly be liberated. Are we, then, to suppose that the Israelites who practised the crude cult that was prevalent before the Exile, even among the true servants of Jehovah, were indeed more devout than Christians who enjoy the privileges of their richer revelation? Scarcely so; for it must be remembered that we are called to a more spiritual and therefore a more difficult worship. Inward sincerity is here of supreme importance; if this is missing there is no worship, and without it the miserable unreality becomes inexpressibly wearisome. No doubt it is the failure to reach the rare altitude of its lofty ideal that makes Christian worship to appear in the eyes of many to be a melancholy performance. But this explanation should not be permitted to obscure the fact that true, living, spiritual worship must be a very delightful exercise of the soul. Perhaps one reason why this truth is not sufficiently appreciated may be found in the very facility with which the outward means of worship are presented to us. People who are seldom out of the sound of church bells are inclined to grow deaf to their significance. The Roman Christian hunted in the catacombs, the Waldensian hiding in his mountain cave, the Covenanter meeting his fellow members of the kirk in a remote highland glen, the backwoodsman walking fifty miles to attend Divine service once in six months, are led by difficulty and deprivation to perceive the value of public worship in a degree which is surprising to people among whom it is merely an incident of everyday life. When Zion was in ashes the memory of her festivals was encircled with a halo of regret. In accordance with the principle of construction which he follows throughout-the heightening of the effect of the picture by presenting a succession of contrasts-the poet next sets the prosperity of the enemies of Jerusalem in close juxtaposition to the misery of those of her people in whom it is most pitiable and startling, the children and the princes. Men with any heart in them would wish above all things that the innocent young members of their families should be spared; yet the captives carried off to Babylon consisted principally of boys and girls torn from their homes, conveyed hundreds of miles across the desert, many of them dragged down to hideous degradation by the vices that luxuriated in the corrupt empire of the Euphrates. The other class of victims specially commented on is that of the princes. Not only is the present humiliation of the nobility in sharp contrast to their former elevation of rank, and therefore their sufferings the more acute, but it is also to be observed that their old position of leadership has been completely reversed. The reference must be to Zedekiah and his courtiers. { Jeremiah 39:4-5 } These proud princes who formerly exercised command over the multitude have become a shameful flock of fugitives. In the expressive image of the poet, they are compared to "harts that find no pasture"; they are like fleet wild deer, so cowed by hunger that they meekly permit themselves to be driven by their enemies just as if they were a herd of tame cattle. In the middle of this comparison between the success of the conquerors and the fate of their victims the poet inserts a pregnant sentence which suddenly carries us off to regions of far more profound reflection, touching upon the two sources of the ruin of Jerusalem that lie behind the visible hand of Nebuchadnezzar and his hosts, her own sin and the consequent wrath of her God. It flashes out as a momentary thought, and then retires with equal suddenness, permitting the previous current of reflections to be resumed as though unaffected by the startling interruption. This thought will reappear, however, with increasing fulness, shewing that it is always present to the mind of the poet and ready to come to the surface at any moment, even when it would seem to be inappropriate, although it can never be really inappropriate, because it is the key to the mystery of the whole tragedy. Lastly, while the sense of a strong contrast is excited objectively by a comparison of the placid security of the invaders with the degradation of the fugitives, subjectively it is most vividly realised by the sufferers themselves when they call to mind their former happiness. Jerusalem is supposed to fall into a reverie in which she follows the recollection of the whole series of her pleasant experiences from far-off bygone times through all the succeeding ages down to the present era of calamities. This is to indulge in the pains of memory-pains which are decidedly more acute than the corresponding pleasures celebrated by Samuel Rogers. These pains are doubly intense owing to the inevitable fact that the contrast is unnaturally strained. Viewed in the softened lights of memory, the past is strangely simplified, its mixed character is forgotten, and many of its unpleasant features are smoothed out, so that an idyllic charm hovers over the dream, and lends it an unearthly beauty. This is why so many people foolishly damp the hopes of children, who, if they are healthily constituted, ought to be anticipating the future with eagerness, by solemnly exhorting them to make hay while the sun shines, with the gloomy warning that the sunny season must soon pass. Their application of the motto carpe diem is not only pagan in spirit; it is founded on an illusion. Happily there is some unreality about most of our yearning regrets for the days that have gone. That sweet, fair past was not so radiant as its effigy in the dreamland of memory now appears to be; nor is the hard present so free from mitigating circumstances as we suppose. And yet, when all is said, we cannot find the consolation we hunger after in hours of darkness among bare conclusions of common-sense. The grave is not an illusion, at least when only viewed in the light of the past-though even this chill, earthly reality begins to melt into a shadow immediately the light of the eternal future falls upon it. The melancholy that laments the lost past can only be perfectly mastered by that Christian grace, the hope which presses forward to a better future. Lamentations 1:8 Jerusalem hath grievously sinned; therefore she is removed: all that honoured her despise her, because they have seen her nakedness: yea, she sigheth, and turneth backward. SIN AND SUFFERING Lamentations 1:8-11 THE doctrinaire rigour of Judaism in its uncompromising association of moral and physical evils has led to an unreasonable disregard for the solid truth which lies behind this mistake. It can scarcely be said that men are now perplexed by the problem that inspired the Book of Job. The fall of the tower of Siloam or the blindness of a man from his birth would not start among us the vexatious questions which were raised in the days of our Lord. We have not accepted the Jewish theory that the punishment of sin always overtakes the sinner in this life, much less have we assented to the by no means necessary corollary that all calamities are the direct penalties of the misconduct of the sufferers, and therefore sure signs of guilt. The modern tendency is in the opposite direction; it goes to ignore the existence of any connection whatever between the course of the universe and human conduct. No interference with the uniformity of the laws of nature for retributive or disciplinary purposes can be admitted. The machinery runs on in its grooves never deflected by any regard for our good or bad deserts. If we dash ourselves against its wheels they will tear us to pieces, grind us to powder; and we may reasonably consider this treatment to be the natural punishment of our folly. But here we are not beyond physical causation, and the drift of thought is towards holding the belief in anything more to be a simple survival from primitive anthropomorphic ideas of nature, a pure superstition. Is it a pure superstition? It is time we turned to another side of the question. Every strong conviction that has obtained wide recognition, however erroneous and mischievous it may be, can be traced back to the abuse of some solid truth. It is not the case that the universe is constructed without any regard for moral laws. Even the natural punishment of the violation of natural laws contains a certain ethical element. Other considerations apart, clearly it is wrong to injure one’s health or endanger one’s life by rushing headlong against the constituted order of the universe; therefore the consequences of such conduct may be taken as signs of its condemnation. In the case of the sufferings of the Jews lamented by our poet the calamities were not primarily of a physical origin; they grew out of human acts-the accompaniments of the Chaldaean invasion. When we come to the evolution of history we are introduced to a whole world of moral forces that are not at work in the material universe. Nebuchadnezzar did not know that he was the instrument of a Higher Power for the chastisement of Israel; but the corruptions of the Jews, so ruthlessly exposed by their prophets, had undermined the national vigour which is the chief safeguard of a state, as surely as at a later time the corruptions of Rome opened her gates to devastating hosts of Goths and Huns. May we not go further, and, passing beyond the region of common observation, discover richer indications of the ethical meanings of events in the application to them of a real faith in God? It was his profound theism that lay at the base of the Jew’s conception of temporal retribution, crude, hard, and narrow as this was. If we believe that God is supreme over nature and history as well as over individual lives, we must conclude that He will use every province of His vast dominion so as to further His righteous purposes. If the same Spirit reigns throughout there must be a certain harmony between all parts of His government. The mistake of the Jew was his claim to interpret the details of this Divine administration with a sole regard for the minute fraction of the universe that came under his own eyes, with blank indifference to the vast realm of facts and principles of which he could know nothing. His idea of Providence was too shortsighted, too parochial, in every respect too small; yet it was true in so far as it registered the conviction that there must be an ethical character in the government of the world by a righteous God, that the divinely ordered course of events cannot be out of all relation to conduct. It does not fall in with the plan of the Lamentations for this subject to be treated so fully in these poems as it is in the stirring exhortations of the great prophets. Yet it comes to the surface repeatedly. In the fifth verse of the first elegy the poet attributes the affliction of Zion to "the multitude of her transgressions"; and he introduces the eighth verse with the clear declaration- "Jerusalem hath grievously sinned; therefore she has become an unclean thing." The powerful Hebrew idiom according to which the cognate substantive follows the verb is here employed. Rendered literally, the opening phrase is, "sinned sin." The experience of the chastisement leads to a keen perception of the guilt that precedes it. This is more than a consequence of the application of the accepted doctrine of the connection of sin with suffering to a particular case. No intellectual theory is strong enough by itself to awaken a slumbering conscience. The logic may be faultless; and yet even though the point of the syllogism is not evaded it will be coolly ignored. Trouble arouses a torpid conscience in a much more direct and effectual way. In the first place, it shatters the pride which is the chief hindrance to the confession of sin. Then it compels reflection; it calls a halt, and makes us look back over the path we may have been following too heedlessly. Sometimes it seems to exercise a distinctly illuminating influence. It is as though scales had fallen from the sufferer’s eyes; he sees all things in a new light, and some ugly facts which had been lying at his side for years disregarded suddenly glare upon him as horrible discoveries. Thus the "Prodigal Son" perceives that he has sinned both against Heaven and against his father when he is in the lowest depths of misery, not so much because he recognises a penal character in his troubles, but more on account of the fact that he has come to himself. This subjective, psychological connection between suffering and sin is independent of any dogma of retribution; for the ends of practical discipline it is the most important connection. We may waive all discussion of the ancient Jewish problem, and still be thankful to recognise the Elijah-like ministry of adversity. The immediate effect of this vision of sin is that a new colour is given to the picture of the desolation of Jerusalem. The image of a miserable woman is preserved, but the dignity of the earlier scene is missing here. Pathos and poetry gather round the picture of the forlorn widow weeping for the loss of her children. Neglected and humbled as she is in worldly estate, the tragic vastness of her sorrow has exalted her to an altitude of moral sublimity. Such suffering breaks through those barriers of conventional experience which make many lives look mean and trivial. It is so awful that we cannot but regard it with reverence. But all this is altered in the aspect of Jerusalem which follows the confession of her great sin. In the freedom of ancient language the poet ventures on an illustration that would be regarded as too gross for modern literature. The limits of our art exclude subjects which excite a sensation of disgust; but this is just the sensation the author of the elegy deliberately aims at producing. He paints a picture which is simply intended to sicken his readers. The utter humiliation of Jerusalem is exhibited in the unavoidable exposure of a condition which natural modesty would conceal at any cost. Another contrast between the reserve of our modern style and the rude bluntness of antiquity is here apparent. It is not only that we have grown more refined in language-a very superficial change which might be no better than the whitewashing of sepulchres; over and above this civilising of mere manners, the effect of Teutonic habits, strengthened by Christian sentiments, has been to develop a respect for woman undreamed of in the old Eastern world. It may be added that the scientific temper of recent times has taught us that there is nothing really dishonouring in purely natural processes. The ancient world could not distinguish between delicacy and shame. We should regard a poor suffering woman whose modesty had been grievously wounded with simple commiseration; the ancient Jews treated such a person with disgust as an unclean creature, quite unable to see that their conduct was simply brutal. The new aspect of the misery of Jerusalem is thus set forth as one of degradation and ignominy. The vision of sin is immediately followed by a scene of shame. Commentators have been divided over the question whether this picture of the humiliated woman is intended to apply to the sin of the city or only to her misfortunes. In favour of the former view, it may be remarked that uncleanness is distinctly associated with moral corruption: the connection is the more appropriate here inasmuch as a confession of sin immediately precedes. On the other hand, the attendant circumstances point to the second interpretation. It is the humiliation of the condition of the sufferer, rather than that condition itself, which is dwelt upon. Jerusalem is despised, "she sigheth," "is come down wonderfully," "hath no comforter," and is generally afflicted and oppressed by her enemies. But while we are led to regard the pitiable picture as a representation of the woful plight into which the proud city has fallen, we cannot conclude it to be an accident that this particular phase of her misery succeeds the mention of her great guilt. After all, it is only the underlying guilt that can justify a verdict which carries disgrace as well as suffering for its penalty. Even when the judgments of men are too confused to recognise this truth with regard to other people, it should be apparent to the conscience of the humiliated person himself. The humiliation which follows nothing worse than a fall into external misfortunes is but a superficial trouble, and the consciousness of innocence can enable one to submit to it without any sense of inward shame. The sting of contempt lies in the miserable consciousness that it is deserved. Thus we see the punishment of sin consisting in exposure. The exposure which simply hurts natural modesty is acutely painful to a refined, sensitive spirit; and yet the very dignity which it outrages is a shield against the point of the insult. But where the exposure follows sin this shield is absent. In that case the degradation of it is without any mitigation. Nothing more may be necessary to constitute a very severe punishment. When the secrets of all hearts are revealed the very revelation will be a penal process. To lay bare the quivering nerves of memory to the searching sunlight must be to torture the guilty soul with inconceivable horrors. Nevertheless it is a matter for profound thankfulness that there is no question of a surprising revelation of the sinner’s guilt being made to God at some future time, some shocking discovery which might turn His lovingkindness into wrath or contempt. We cannot have a firmer ground of joy and hope than the fact that God knows everything about us, and yet loves us at our worst, patiently waiting for repentance with His offer of unlimited forgiveness. Exposure before God is like a surgical examination; the hope of a cure, if it does not dispel the sense of humiliation and that is impossible in the case of guilt, the disgrace of which to a healthy conscience is more intense before the holiness of God than before the eyes of fellow-sinners still encourages confidence. The recognition of a moral lapse at the root of the shame of Jerusalem, though not perhaps in the shame itself, is confirmed by a phrase which reflects on the culpable heedlessness of the Jews. The elegy deplores how the city has "come down wonderfully" on account of the fact that "she remembered not her latter end." It is quite confusing and incorrect to render this expression in the present tense as it stands in the Authorised English Version. The poet cannot mean that the Jews in exile and captivity have already forgotten the recent horrors of the siege of Jerusalem. This would be flatly contrary to the motive of the elegy, which is to give tongue to the sufferings of the Jews flowing out of that disaster. It would be impossible to say that the calamity that inspired the elegy was no longer even remembered by its victims. What an anti-climax this would be! Clearly the poet is bewailing the culpable folly of the people in not giving a thought to the certain consequences of such a course as they were following; a course that had been denounced by the faithful prophets of Jehovah, who, alas! had been but voices crying in the wilderness, unnoted, or even scouted and suppressed, like the stormy petrels hated by sailors as birds of ill-omen. In her ease and prosperity, her self-indulgence and sin, the doomed city had failed to recollect what must be the end of such things. The idea of remembrance is peculiarly apt and forcible in this connection, although it has a relation to the future, because the Jews had been through experiences which should have served as warnings if they had duly reflected on them. This was not a matter for wild guesses or vague apprehensions. Not only were there the distinct utterances of Jeremiah

That was fall of people! Lamentations 1:1 Reverses of fortune J. Parker, D. D. The picture in this verse is strong by contrasts: solitary, and full of people; a widow, once a queen great among the nations; a princess receiving homage, now stooping in the act of paying tribute to a higher power. No nest is built so high that God's lightning may not strike it. To human vision, it certainly does appear impossible that certain estates can ever be turned to desolation; the owners are so full of health and high spirits, and they apparently have so much reason to congratulate them. selves upon the exercise of their own sagacity and strength, that it would really appear as if no bolt could shatter the castle of their greatness. Yet that castle we have teen torn down, until there was not one stone left upon another. We are only strong in proportion as we spend our strength for others, and only rich in proportion as we invest our gold in the cause of human beneficence. The ruins of history ought to be monitors and guides to those who take a large view of human life. Is not the whole of human history a succession of ruins? Where is Greece? Rome? proud Babylon? the Seven Churches of Asia? We do not despair when we look at the ruins which strew antiquity; we rather reason that certain institutions have served their day, and what was good in them has been transferred into surviving activities. In the text, however, we have no question of ruin that comes by the mere lapse of time. Such ruin as is here depicted expresses a great moral catastrophe. Judah did not go into captivity because of her excellency or faithfulness; she was driven into servitude because of her disobedience to her Lord. What was true of Judah will be true of every man amongst us. No man can sin, and prosper. ( J. Parker, D. D. ) Changes in the outward estate of the Church J. Udall. 1. God often alters the outward estate of His Church in this world.(1) That He may daily declare Himself the disposer and governor of all things.(2) To take from us all occasions of promising ourselves any certainty here. Therefore let us prepare ourselves to all conditions ( Philippians 4:11, 12 ); settle our affections on heaven and the things that lead thereto. 2. It is our duty to strive with ourselves to be affected with the miseries of God's people (2 Chronicles 11:28, 29). For we are fellow members of one body, whereof Christ is the Head ( 1 Corinthians 12:25, 26 ).(1) This reproves those who seek only their own good.(2) It teaches us to put on tender compassion and labour to profit the whole Church and every member thereof. 3. God sometimes giveth His Church an outward estate that flourisheth both in wealth and peace.(1) That He may give His people's taste even of all kinds of earthly blessings ( Deuteronomy 28:2 ; Psalm 84:11 ).(2) That they may have all opportunity to serve Him, and every kind of encouragement thereto. 4. The outward flourishing state of God's Church lasts not always, but is often changed into affliction and adversity. 5. God often changes the condition of His servants in this life from one extreme to another. Joseph; Job; Israel (1) That His mighty power may appear to all (2) That we may learn to ascribe all to Him. 6. It is a great blessing of God for a nation to be populous ( Genesis 12:2 ). 7. God often makes His people in their prosperity most admired of all. (1) That He may show Him, self to love His servants. (2) That the godly may know that godliness is not without reward. (3) That the wicked may have all excuse taken from them, in that they are not allured by such notable spectacles of God's love to them that fear Him. 8. God often humbles His servants under all His foes and their adversaries, because of their disobedience to His word ( Deuteronomy 28:36 ). (1) This shows us how great God's anger is for sin. (2) This teaches us not to measure the favour of God towards ourselves or others by the blessings or adversities of this life. ( J. Udall. ) How is she become as a widow! Desolation W. F. Adeney, M. A. It would not be just to read into the image of widowhood ideas collected from utterances of the prophets about the wedded union of Israel and her Lord; we have no hint of anything of the sort here. Apparently the image is selected in order to express the more vividly the utter lonesomeness of the city. It is clear that the attribute "solitary" has no bearing on the external relations of Jerusalem — her isolation among the Syrian hills, or the desertion of her allies, mentioned a little later (ver. 2); it points to a more ghostly solitude, streets without traffic, tenantless houses. The widow is solitary because she has been robbed of her children. And in this, her desolation, "she sits." The attitude, so simple and natural and easy under ordinary circumstances, here suggests a settled continuance of wretchedness; it is helpless and hopeless. The first wild agony of the severance of the closest natural ties has passed, and with it the stimulus of conflict; now there has supervened the dull monotony of despair. It is a fearful thing simply to sit in sorrow. The mourner sits "in the night," while the world around lies in the peace of sleep. The darkness has fallen, yet she does not stir, for day and night are alike to her — both dark. In this dread night of misery her one occupation is weeping. The mourner knows how the hidden fountains of tears which have been sealed to the world for the day will break out in the silent solitude of night; then the bravest will "wet his couch with his tears." The forlorn woman "weepeth sore"; to use the expressive Hebraism, "weeping she weepeth." "Her tears are on her cheeks"; they are continually flowing; she has no thought of drying them; there is no One else to wipe them away. This is not the frantic torrent of youthful tears, soon to be forgotten in sudden sunshine, like a spring shower; it is the dreary winter rain, falling more silently, but from leaden clouds that never break. The woe of Jerusalem is intensified by reason of its contrast with the previous splendour of the proud city. This thought of a tremendous fall gives the greatest force to the portrait. It is Rembrandtesque; the black shadows on the foreground are the deeper because they stand sharply out against the brilliant radiance that streams in from the sunset of the past. The pitiableness of the comfortless present lies in this, that there had been lovers whose consolations would now have been a solace; the bitterness of the enmity now experienced is its having been distilled from the dregs of poisoned friendship. Against the protests of her faithful prophets Jerusalem had courted alliance with her heathen neighbours only to be cruelly deserted in her hour of need. It is the old story of friendship with the world, keenly accentuated in the life of Israel because this favoured people had already seen glimpses of a rich, rare privilege, the friendship of heaven. This is the irony of the situation; it is the tragic irony of all Hebrew history. ( W. F. Adeney, M. A. ) She weepeth sore in the night. Lamentations 1:2 Lonely sorrow J. Udall. 1. According to the measure of God's correcting hand upon us, must our grief be.(1) Because God is sure to be (at the least) so angry as His rods are heavy.(2) Our sins do cause Him to afflict us, which we must repent of according to the measure of God's anger against them appearing by His smiting of us. This reproves them that remain unrepentant, when the correcting hand of God is upon them. It teaches us to increase in sorrow and lamentation, seeing the trouble of the Church in general, and our own crosses in particular are daily increased. 2. Weeping for sin and its punishment is such a sign of true repentance as we must labour to show forth, especially in time of calamity.(1) Because the heart appeareth then to be truly affected when it breaketh into tears.(2) The godly have always been brought thereunto ( Joel 2:12 ). This reproves our corruption, that can easily be brought to weep for a worldly loss, but hardly for our sins. We must labour against this with all diligence, carefully using all the means of grace. 3. It is a grievous plague to lack comforts in affliction; the contrary whereof is a great blessing.(1) Because the comfortable words and deeds of others will mitigate the sense of the misery.(2) It adds to the grief to be left alone in it. 4. It is an intolerable grief to have friends become foes.(1) Because we put great trust in our friends, and promise ourselves much assistance by them.(2). They having been most inward with us, may do us more harm than those whom we have always esteemed enemies. Let us take heed with what men we make friendship. Let us not be dismayed though our friends become our foes, seeing it hath been often the lot of the godly, but seek to God the more earnestly for His assistance. 5. God often leaveth His people destitute of all outward help and comfort, to teach us to rest upon Him alone at whose disposition all things are, and not upon any outward thing, seem it never so glorious to our outward eyes. ( J. Udall. ) All her friends have dealt treacherously with her Adversity the test of friendship J. Parker, D. D. We do not know our friends until we are in some extremity. Fair-weather friends are not to be implicitly trusted. You cannot know a man until you have had occasion to test him by some practical sacrifice; until you have opposed a man you do not know what his temper is; until you have disappointed a man you cannot tell the extent of his good nature; until you have seen a man in trial you know nothing whatever of his grace or his virtue. Many persons shine the more brightly because of the surrounding darkness; they have no genius for conversation, they cannot display themselves in public, they are but poorly feathered and coloured, so that they have nothing to attract and gratify the attention of curiosity: but how full of life they are when their friends are in trouble, how constant in watchfulness, how liberal in contribution, how patient under exasperation! These are the men to trust! As we should never see the stars but for the darkness, so we never should see real friendship but for our affliction and sorrow. ( J. Parker, D. D. ) Judah is gone into captivity because of affliction. Lamentations 1:3 Afflictive dispensations J. Udall. 1. The outward things of this life are the soonest lost; and being enjoyed, the most uncertain. (1) They are most subject to all kinds of enemies. (2) God knoweth that we may best want them.Learn to make least account of them, as things without which we may be perfectly happy. Endeavour most of all to obtain the true knowledge and fear of God, which is the treasure laid up in heaven ( Matthew 6:19, 20 ). 2. It is natural for a man to seek to better his outward estate, and his duty to seek far and near for the freedom and rest of conscience ( 2 Chronicles 11:13-17 ). 3. It is better to live anywhere than in our own country where our governors seek to oppress us, for their hatred being assisted with their might will never let us live in any tolerable peace. 4. Of two evils, we may and ought to choose the less, to avoid the greater. 5. It is grievous and dangerous to dwell among the ungodly. (1) They can administer no true comfort unto us. (2) They are strong to draw us to evil. 6. When God means to punish, He stirs up means; but when He means it not, the means shall not prosper. 7. There is no place or means to escape God's hand, when He means. to punish. 8. There is no kind of people so generally and so evil entreated in their adversity as the godly. 9. This people seemeth to be utterly overthrown for ever, and yet they returned unto their land and became a commonwealth again. So is it often with the Church of God ( Psalm 139:1 , etc.). This teaches us — (1) Never to despair, though our calamities be never so many and grievous. (2) That there is no assured safety, but in the true fear of God. ( J. Udall. ) The ways of Zion do mourn, because none come to the solemn feasts. Lamentations 1:4 The decay of religion mournful J. Udall. 1. The overthrow of the commonwealth bringeth with it the overthrow of the Church's outward peace. 2. When the things that God hath given us here are not applied to the appointed use, we have just cause to mourn, seeing our sins have caused the let thereof ( Deuteronomy 28:15-68 ; Isaiah 13:19 , etc.). 3. The earth and earthly things do often admonish men of their sins, either by denying that comfort which naturally they bring with them ( Leviticus 18:25 ), or bringing grief or punishment with them ( Micah 2:10 ).(1) God hath made all His creatures as written books, wherein man may read his sins.(2) That man may have no show of excuse left him at that great day of account. 4. All God's creatures mourn when God is disobeyed, and rejoice when He is obeyed by His people. 5. The service of God is not tied to any place, but upon condition of their obedience that dwell therein ( Jeremiah 26:4 ). 6. It is a great grief to God's ministers to be deprived of their ministry or to see it unprofitable to the Church.(1) God is greatly dishonoured thereby.(2) It giveth occasion of interrupting all good things among the people, and matter of all kinds of sin. 7. The ministers must be guides to the people, to lead them to mourning (when there is cause), as also to all other duties. 8. They that seem most exempt from it must mourn at the decay of religion.(1) This reproves them that lay not to heart the distress of God's people for the truth, thinking it sufficient that themselves live in safety.(2) It teaches us to strive to be grieved when we hear of the decay of true religion in any place, though it be safe where we are. 9. The greatest loss that can befall God's people is the loss of the exercise of the Word and Sacraments. Because God hath appointed them to be the means of begetting and confirming faith in us. ( J. Udall. ) All her gates are desolate. Religious desolation J. Parker, D. D. A pathetic picture indeed is this, that the feast is spread and no man comes to the banqueting table; every gate is open in token of welcome and hospitality, yet no wandering soul asks for admittance; the priests once so noble in the service of song, the virgins once so beautiful as images of innocence, now stand with hands thrown down, with eyes full of tears, with hearts sighing in expressive silence their bitterness and disappointment. All this can God do even to His chosen place, and to altars on which He has written His name. Officialism is no guarantee of spiritual perpetuity. Pomp and ceremony, with all their mechanical and external decorations and attractions, are no pledge of the presence of the Spirit of the Living God. The sanctuary is nothing but for the Lord's presence. Eloquent preaching is but eloquent noise if the Spirit of the Lord be not in it, giving it intellectual value, spiritual dignity, and practical usefulness. Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit, saith the Lord; because men have forgotten this doctrine, they have trusted to themselves and have seen their hopes perishing in complete and bitter disappointment. ( J. Parker, D. D. ) Her adversaries are the chief, her enemies prosper. Lamentations 1:5 The adversaries of the good J. Udall. 1. The cause apparent of all the miseries of God's people is the prospering and prevailing of their enemies. 2. It often comes to pass that the wicked prosper in all things of this life, and the godly contrary ( Psalm 73:4 ; Job 21:7 ).(1) God will, by giving them prosperity, make the wicked without excuse.(2) The godly being assured of God's favour and yet pinched, they may the more earnestly bend their affections to the inheritance which is prepared for them. 3. It is the natural disposition of the wicked towards the godly to oppress them in action and hate them in affliction. 4. The wicked never prevail against the godly, further than the Lord giveth strength unto them ( Job 1:11, 12 ; 1 Kings 22:22 ; Matthew 8:31, 32 ). This teaches us —(1) To he more patient towards the instruments, and not to be as the dog that snatcheth at the stone cast at him, not regarding the thrower.(2) To seek the cause of our afflictions in ourselves, for else the just Judge of the world would not correct us. 5. All our afflictions come from the Lord, who is the chief worker thereof. 6. It is the sin of the godly that causeth the Lord to lay all their troubles upon them ( Daniel 9:6 ; Nehemiah 1:6 ). 7. When God withdraweth His strength from His servants, they fall into many grievous sins, one after another. 8. When God meaneth to punish man, He will not spare to deprive him of that which is more dear unto him. 9. The wicked bear such malice unto the truth that when they get the advantage they spate neither age nor sex, thinking to root out the godly from under heaven. ( J. Udall. ) And from the daughter of Zion all her beauty is departed. Lamentations 1:6 Departing glory J. Udall. 1. The Church of God doth esteem the exercises of religion e most excellent and glorious thing that can be had in this life. (1) They are notable signs of God's favour and presence. (2) There is more true comfort in them than in the whole world besides. 2. The weakening of the rulers is the height of misery upon the rest of the members of that body. 3. That people hath a heavy judgment upon them whose guides are destitute and deprived of necessary courage. 4. They that have the greatest outward privilege do often come the soonest into distress when God punisheth for sin ( Amos 6:7 ). ( J. Udall. ) Sin ruinous and destructive We do our utmost to protect great buildings from fire and tempest, and yet all the time those buildings are liable to another peril not less severe — the subtle decay of the very framework of the structure itself. The tissue of the wood silently and mysteriously deteriorates, and calamity as dire as a conflagration is precipitated. The whole of the magnificent roofing of the church of St. Paul in Rome had to be taken out at enormous expense because of the dry rot. Scientific men, by microscopic and chemical methods, have investigated the causes of this premature decay, and after patient search they have discovered not only the fungi which destroy the wood tissue, but also the spore that acts as the seed of the fungus. So this obscure, malign vegetation goes on in the heart of the wood, destroying the glory and strength of minister and palace. Character is liable to a similar danger. All evils do not come from the outside. Some of the worst possibilities of loss, weakness, and ruin emerge from within; the destroying agents work obscurely and stealthily, and are almost unsuspected until they nave wrought fatal mischief. Jerusalem remembered in the days of her affliction, and of her miseries, all her pleasant things. Lamentations 1:7 The action of the memory in pain Homilist. I. IT GENERALLY REFERS TO THE "PLEASANT THINGS" OF THE PAST. This it does by a necessary law of its nature — the law of contrast. All men must meet with trials sooner or later — physical, social, moral, etc. Now in the painful memory reverts to the pleasant. It is ever so. Men under the infirmities of age revert to the bright joys of youth hood; the rich man who has sunk into bankruptcy reverts to the days when he had more than heart could wish; souls in perdition recall the sunny day of grace. II. Its reference to the "pleasant things" of the past ALWAYS INTENSIFIES THE SUFFERINGS OF THE SUFFERER. There are two things that tend to this:(1) The consciousness that the "pleasant things" are irrevocably lost: Innocency of childhood, glowing hopes of youth, pleasures of mature manhood, sacred impressions made upon the young heart by books, sermons, and parental piety, — these can never be regained.(2) The consciousness that the "pleasant things" have been morally abused. This makes the action of memory m hell so overwhelmingly painful. "Son, remember," etc. Memory involves receptivity — retention — reproduction ( Homilist. ) The memory of pleasant things in the time of trial J. Udall. 1. In the time of affliction we do better consider of the blessings that our prosperity yielded unto us, than when we enjoyed them. 2. The time of adversity is fit, wherein we may best recount the prosperity that in former times we have enjoyed. 3. God often maketh an men adversaries to His children, that they may learn to rest on Him alone. 4. The enemies of religion do inquire into the decay of God's Church, and rejoice at it. 5. It is a certain note of an enemy to religion, to mock and deride the exercises of the same. ( J. Udall. ) The mockery of bad men H. W. Beecher. What would the nightingale care if the toad despised her singing! She would still sing on, and leave the cold toad to his dank shadows. And what care I for the sneers of men who grovel upon earth? I will sing on in the ear and bosom of God. ( H. W. Beecher. ) Jerusalem hath grievously sinned; therefore she is removed. Lamentations 1:8-11 The captivity of Judah A. E. Dunning. The emphatic word is "therefore." It rings with sad and solemn cadence through the most mournful of all the books of the Bible. It is the epitaph of the nation to which once the conquest of the world was possible, but whose persistent resistance to the will of God secured at last its complete destruction The processes by which it ruined itself are those by which individuals are destroyed. This "therefore" is the monumental inscription over a dead nation, which may serve as a warning and guide to every living soul. I. THE SINS WHICH BROUGHT ABOUT THE DOWNFALL OF JUDAH. 1. Unbelief. they refused to see God, and they gradually lost the power to see Him. When they found that their kings could not be trusted, could not take care of them° they trusted, not to God, but to other nations. One day they were vassals of the king of Egypt; the next, of the king of Babylon Nothing but trust in God can make men free. As soon as we begin to doubt HIS word, and trust in human opinions, we expose ourselves to become the prey of untrustworthy powers. No confidence in our own learning or judgment, no trust in the boastful words of others, can ever take the place of confidence in the simple Word of God, and leave us sound and safe. 2. Pride. They could not accept God's way. They could not wait for other nations to be uplifted and join them. They chose to join other nations. Doubtless they said it would more quickly bring the world to God; that to be singular would only repel men, and make God repulsive to them. They preferred their way to the way of God, ostensibly because They thought their way was wiser, really because they could not bear to lose esteem in the eyes of tree world God's way is the same now. He still calls disciples a peculiar people. He still says, "Come ye out from among them and be ye separate." He still finds only occasionally a hearty response. But to these who do respond with willing love, what wonderful rewards He gives! 3. Sensuality. Outward contamination soon resulted in inward corruption. Vice belongs with separation from God, and association with the world. In time it will as surely follow as it is sure that man is made subject to temptation. 4. Idolatry. When men or nations become polluted, they seek to make religion justify their wickedness. Often the most self-indulgent are those most devoted to their ideas of religion. They make their gods responsible for their sins, and therefore treat them with greatest care. II. THE CONSEQUENCES OF JUDAH'S SINS. 1. Blindness. They could not see the ruin they were approaching. When we cease to lay bare our sins and call them by their real names, we cease to feel them. We enter into moral darkness. The light of the world shines as before, but there is nothing in us which answers to that light. All knowledge of what we ought to do rests on some knowledge of what God is and does. We speak of seeing God, and though He is not visible to the bodily eye, there is no other description which expresses our perception of His character and presence surrounding us in all our ways. Men have eyes which behold Him; eyes which He Himself has opened to that light which is not the light of the sun, but which is the light of the celestial city. But when men turn away from that light, His character becomes to them distorted and unreal. 2. Untrustworthiness. When they became false to God they became false to all trusts. They substituted forms for righteousness, and increased them in proportion as they lost the spirit of truth. 3. Misery. The consequences of sin were seen too late. They were not foreseen.Lessons — 1. The captivity of Judah was the fault of her religious men. Beware of seeking to justify what your conscience condemns by appeals to God in prayer, or by observing forms of worship. 2. Outward reformation but slightly arrests the progress of destruction. We cannot hope for much from the reform which aims only at self-protection. It is not deep, honest, hearty, unless we choose to renounce sins because we hate sin, and follow God because we love His ways. 3. Sin destroys the choicest qualities of human character. 4. The one thing necessary is to keep the eye on God. ( A. E. Dunning. ) Sin's dire consequence Sin produceth all temporal evil. Jerusalem hath grievously sinned, therefore she is removed. It is the Trojan horse; it hath sword and famine and pestilence within it. ( T. Watson . ) Sin the cause of affliction J. Udall. 1. Their sins the cause of their afflictions being again mentioned unto them, teacheth this doctrine: that it is necessary whensoever we are afflicted, to recount often our sins to have procured the same to fall upon us.(1) We are naturally unwilling to blame ourselves for anything, and ready to impute the cause of any evil to others.(2) If we rightly charge ourselves and our sins, we shall be the better prepared thereby to true repentance and right humiliation. 2. It is peculiar to the godly to impute the cause of all their miseries unto their own sins. The wicked either lay the cause upon other things, or extenuate their fault, blaming God for rigour; or else break out into raging impatience or blasphemy. 3. It is our sin that depriveth us of any good thing we have heretofore enjoyed. 4. When we truly fear and serve the Lord, He honoureth us in the sight of men ( 1 Samuel 2:30 ).(1) That it may appear that godliness is not without her reward even in this life.(2) To give a taste unto the godly here, of that honour which they shall hereafter enjoy without measure or end. 5. It is our sin that maketh us odious and contemptible amongst men. 6. The estimation that the godly have among worldlings is only whilst they are in outward prosperity. 7. The wicked, that have no knowledge or consciousness of their own faults, can see the offences of the godly, and upbraid them with them. 8. There is nothing that maketh men so filthily naked as sin. 9. The godly do take to heart with earnest affection the crosses that the Lord layeth upon them. 10. The godly are sometimes brought into so hard estate as that they are in men's judgment utterly deprived of all the signs of God's favour. ( J. Udall. ) She remembereth not her last end: therefore she came down wonderfully. Lamentations 1:9 The wicked surprised by their own destruction W. B. Sprague, D. D. There are certain great principles in the Divine administration, the operation of which gives a degree of uniformity to the Divine proceedings. For instance, it is the manner of our God to visit with signal destruction those who have proudly set at naught His authority in a course of prosperous wickedness. Such was His treatment of Jerusalem. So it has been with individuals. Nebuchadnezzar, Herod, etc. Destruction came upon them, not only in a terrible form, but at an hour when they did not expect it. The same thing will hold true, in a greater or less degree, of all sinners, as it respects their final doom; while it will be especially true of those who have sinned against great light, and with a high hand. The destruction which will overtake sinners at last will be to them a matter of awful surprise. It will be at once unexpectedly dreadful, and dreadfully unexpected. I. GOD'S WRATH AGAINST THE WICKED IS CONSTANTLY ACCUMULATING. If the first sin you ever committed provoked God, do you think that the second provoked Him less; and that as He saw you become accustomed to sin, He came to think as little of it as yourself, and has not even charged your sin against you? Do you not remember that the Bible speaks of the sinner treasuring up wrath against the day of wrath? II. THE DESTRUCTION WHICH WILL COME UPON SINNERS WILL BE TO THEM A MATTER OF FEARFUL SURPRISE, INASMUCH AS IN THE PRESENT LIFE GOD'S WRATH, FOR THE MOST PART, SEEMS TO SLUMBER; AT LEAST THEY PERCEIVE NO DIRECT EXPRESSION OF IT. It is true, indeed, that God is giving them warnings enough, both in His Word and providence; and if they did not close their ears against them, they could not fail to be alarmed; and they will never be able, in the day of their calamity, to charge God with having concealed from them their danger. Nevertheless, He treats them here as probationers for eternity; He sets life and death before them, but He does not unsheath His sword, and point it at the sinner's heart. He does not find that the elements are armed for his destruction. The thundercloud rises, and rolls, and looks terrific, as if it were borne along by an avenging hand, but the lightning that blazes from it passes him by unhurt. In short, not one of the vials of God's wrath can be said to be open upon him. There is nothing which he interprets as an indication of anything dreadful in the future. Now, must not all this be a preparation for a fearful surprise at last? III. NOT ONLY HAVE THE WICKED, DURING THE PRESENT LIFE, RECEIVED NO SIGNAL EXPRESSIONS OF DIVINE VENGEANCE, BUT THEY HAVE BEEN CONSTANTLY RECEIVING EXPRESSIONS OF THE DIVINE GOODNESS; AND THIS IS ANOTHER CIRCUMSTANCE WHICH WILL SERVE TO INCREASE THE SURPRISE THAT WILL BE OCCASIONED BY THEIR DESTRUCTION. What a fearful transition will it be from this world, in which there are so many blessings, to a world in which existence itself becomes a curse! Oh, will not the sinner feel that he has "come down wonderfully"? IV. GOD SOMETIMES NOT ONLY GIVES TO THE WICKED A COMMON SHARE OF TEMPORAL BLESSINGS, BUT DISTINGUISHES THEM BY WORLDLY PROSPERITY; HENCE ANOTHER REASON OF THE SURPRISE WHICH THEY WILL EXPERIENCE AT LAST. Think of the rich, and the great, and the noble of this world, who have been accustomed to receive a homage which has sometimes fallen little short of idolatry, finding themselves in the prison of despair, with no sound but the sound of their own wailing — with no society but the society of the reprobate! Have not these persons come down wonderfully? V. THE DESTRUCTION WHICH WILL FINALLY OVERTAKE THE WICKED WILL BE TO THEM A MATTER OF GREAT SURPRISE, INASMUCH AS THEY WILL, IN SOME WAY OR OTHER, HAVE MADE CONFIDENT CALCULATION FOE ESCAPING IT. It will be found, no doubt, that many of them had flattered themselves with the hope that the doctrine of future punishment might turn out to be false; and some will have been left through their own perverseness to believe the lie, that the good and the bad will at last be equally happy. There will be others who will have wrought themselves into a conviction that destruction might be averted by some easier means than those which the Gospel prescribes, and may have chosen to trust to the orthodoxy of their creed, or the kindness of their temper, or the morality of their life. There will be others who will have intended ultimately to escape destruction by becoming true Christians, but who were looking out for some more convenient season. One thing will be certain in respect to all, — they will have intended to come out well at last. Not an individual among all the sufferers in hell but will have expected finally to be saved. Lessons. — 1. How blinding is the influence of depravity. 2. It is a most awful calamity to relapse into a habit of carelessness after being awakened. 3. There is no class of men so much to be pitied as those who are perhaps most frequently the objects of envy, and none whose condition is so much to be envied as those whose circumstances are often looked upon as the most undesirable. 4. Who of you will turn a deaf ear to the warning which this subject suggests, to flee from the wrath to come? ( W. B. Sprague, D. D. ) Sin unremembered J. Udall. 1. They that be hardened in sin by despising destruction, do grow to forget those things which continual experience and the light

1:1-11 The prophet sometimes speaks in his own person; at other times Jerusalem, as a distressed female, is the speaker, or some of the Jews. The description shows the miseries of the Jewish nation. Jerusalem became a captive and a slave, by reason of the greatness of her sins; and had no rest from suffering. If we allow sin, our greatest adversary, to have dominion over us, justly will other enemies also be suffered to have dominion. The people endured the extremities of famine and distress. In this sad condition Jerusalem acknowledged her sin, and entreated the Lord to look upon her case. This is the only way to make ourselves easy under our burdens; for it is the just anger of the Lord for man's transgressions, that has filled the earth with sorrows, lamentations, sickness, and death. 1:12-22 Jerusalem, sitting dejected on the ground, calls on those that passed by, to consider whether her example did not concern them. Her outward sufferings were great, but her inward sufferings were harder to bear, through the sense of guilt. Sorrow for sin must be great sorrow, and must affect the soul. Here we see the evil of sin, and may take warning to flee from the wrath to come. Whatever may be learned from the sufferings of Jerusalem, far more may be learned from the sufferings of Christ. Does he not from the cross speak to every one of us? Does he not say, Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? Let all our sorrows lead us to the cross of Christ, lead us to mark his example, and cheerfully to follow him.