The striking and distressing symbolism described in this chapter must have brought with great vividness before the mind of the prophet, and before the minds of his companions in exile, the sufferings that were about to befall the metropolis which was the pride of their hearts. In the siege which was to come upon Jerusalem, the citizens should endure the horrors of privation, of hunger, and of thirst. It was foretold that in a sense this should be God's appointment, the effect of that retributive Providence which devout minds cannot fail to recognize in the government of the world. If such events took place in accordance with what are called general laws, since those laws are the consequence and expression of the very constitution of society, none the less must the Divine hand be recognized, none the less must it be understood that Divine lessons are to be learned with reverent submission.

I. A LESSON OF CORPORATE UNITY. As a city, Jerusalem had sinned by rejecting Jehovah's worship, and by honouring the gods of the nations; by disobeying Jehovah's laws, and following sinful impulses and indulging in sinful practices. As a city, Jerusalem sinned; as a city, Jerusalem suffered and fell. The innocent, no doubt, suffered with the guilty; those who mourned over the defection of Judah with those who were prominent agents in that defection. No man can live apart from his neighbours; least of all is this possible in the life of the city, which is characterized by a unity that may be designated corporate.

II. A LESSON OF PHYSICAL DEPENDENCE. Bread, water, and fuel are mentioned in this chapter as necessaries of life; without them men are condemned to famine and to death. The body is in correlation to nature - to the provision made for its sustenance and strength. If the supply be cut off, the body perishes. Familiar and commonplace as this truth is, men need, in their pride and self-confidence, to be reminded of it. The haughty Jews stood in need of the lesson. Let an army invest the city, and it is only a question of time; for the besieged, if unable to beat back the besiegers, must sooner or later surrender to the force of hunger, if not of arms.

III. A LESSON OF DIVINE RETRIBUTION. It is in this light that the calamities attending a siege are presented by the prophet. Men may see in a beleaguered city only a political fact, a military incident, the consequence of well known causes, the cause of well understood effects. To see all this is justifiable; to see nothing but this is blindness. A thoughtful and pious mind will look through, will look above, all that is phenomenal. There is purpose in human affairs, there is Divine meaning, there is revelation. When men, oppressed by adversity and threatened with ruin, are "astonied one with another, and pine away in their iniquity," it is possible that they may be so stupefied as to recognize no moral law in their experience, their fate. but the enlightened discern in such events indication of the Divine displeasure and indignation with sin. Chastisement, punishment, is no chimera invented by a heated imagination; it is a sober, albeit a painful fact, from which there is no escape and no appeal. The judgments of God are abroad in the earth; and this is that the inhabitants thereof may learn righteousness.

IV. A LESSON OF REPENTANCE AND OF MERCY. This lesson is not, indeed, explicitly presented in this passage; yet the whole prophetic symbolism leads up to it. Why are men hungry but that they may call for the bread of life? and upon whom shall they call but upon God? Whither shall the parched and thirsting turn but to him who has the water of life, for the quenching of their thirst and the satisfaction of their souls? To whom shall the afflicted address themselves but to him who can turn the outward curse into a spiritual blessing, who can make the scourge the means of healing, and the sword the means of life? In the midst of wrath God remembers mercy; and it is ever true that they who call upon the Name of the Lord shall be saved. - T.

In this chapter there begins a series of symbols utterly impossible of modern interpretation. This ministry of symbolism has still a place in all progressive civilisation. Every age, of course, necessitates its own emblems and types, its own apocalypse of wonders and signs, but the meaning of the whole is that God has yet something to be revealed which cannot at the moment be expressed in plain language. If we could see into the inner meaning of many of the controversies in which we are engaged, we should see there many a divinely drawn symbol, curious outlines of thought, parables not yet ripe enough for words. How manifold is human life! How innumerable are the workers who are toiling at the evolution of the Divine purpose in things! One man can understand nothing but what he calls bare facts and hard realities; he has only a hand to handle, he has not the interior touch that can feel things ere yet they have taken shape. Another is always on the outlook for what pleases the eye; he delights in form and colour and symmetry, and glows almost with thankfulness as he beholds the shapeliness of things, and traces in them a subtle geometry. Another man gets behind all this, and hears voices, and sees sights excluded from the natural senses; he looks upon symbolism, upon the ministry of suggestion and dream and vision; he sees best in the darkness; the night is his day; in the great cloud he sees the ever-working God, and in the infinite stillness of religious solitude he hears, rather in echoes than in words, what he is called upon to tell the age in which he lives. Here again his difficulty increases, for although he can see with perfect plainness men, and can understand quite intelligibly all the mysteries which pass before his imagination and before his spiritual eyes, yet he has to find words that will fit the new and exciting occasion; and there are no fit words, so sometimes he is driven to make a language of his own, and hence we come upon strangeness of expression, eccentricity of thought, weirdness in quest and sympathy, — a most marvellous and tumultuous life; a great struggle after rhythm and rest, and fullest disclosure of inner realities, often ending in bitter disappointment, so that the prophet's eloquence dissolves in tears, and the man who thought he had a glorious message to deliver is broken down in humiliation when he hears the poor thunder of his own inadequate articulation. He has his "tile" and his iron pan; he lays upon his left side, and upon his right side; he takes unto him wheat and barley, beans, and lentils; he weighs out his bread, and measures out his water, and bakes "barley cakes" by a curious manufacture; and yet when it is all over he cannot tell to others in delicate enough language, or with sufficiency of illustration, what he knows to be a Divine and eternal word.

(J. Parker, D. D.)