Let us look again at the case of Abraham. God said unto him—“Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah, and offer him there for a burnt offering, upon one of the mountains that I will tell thee of.” Now the enemy assails him, in the persuasive language of natural affection, and carnal reasoning; and every word is like a flaming arrow in the patriarch’s heart:—“Abraham! if thou obey this command, thou wilt disobey thereby many other commands. God hath said—‘Thou shalt not kill;’ and wilt thou shed the blood of thy own child? Canst thou so trample upon the law of God, and all the tender instincts of human nature? How will thy servants regard thee—how will the world look upon thee, after so horrible a deed? What will they think of thy God, when they hear that he has required at thy hand the immolation of thy only son? Will it not bring everlasting dishonor upon his name? And what will become of the Divine promise upon which thy faith is built—that from Isaac’s loins shall spring the Messiah, the hope of the world? Besides, thou wilt certainly break poor old Sarah’s heart; she will never be able to survive the loss, in so dreadful a manner, of her darling boy. If thou hast any feelings of humanity in thy heart, any fear of God before thine eyes, any regard for the glory of his name among men, refrain from that deed of blood!” Such were the “fiery darts” which “the wicked one” hurled at the good man’s heart, but they fell harmless upon his “shield of faith.” “He staggered not at the promise through unbelief.” “He conferred not with flesh and blood.” He rose up early in the morning, took Isaac and the servants, and set out for the appointed place of sacrifice. He travelled three days toward Moriah, with a settled purpose to cut Isaac’s body in pieces, and shed the blood of his heart upon the altar, and burn it to ashes in the consuming flames. He loved his son as his own soul, but the command of God was dearer to his heart. “And Abraham said unto his young men—Abide ye here with the ass, and I and the lad will go yonder, and worship, and come again to you;” for he firmly believed that God would raise his son from the ashes of the altar, and that they would return together. I see them ascending the hill—O, what an ascent was that! Never was there a walk so sorrowful, till the great Antitype of Isaac ascended the same mountain to “make his soul a sacrifice for sin.” The altar is built, the fire and the wood are placed thereon; and O for words to describe the feelings of both father and son, when Abraham laid hold on Isaac, and took the knife to plunge it into his heart! There is a pause. The patriarch’s arm is stretched aloft, with the instrument of death. God of mercy! is there no help for a father? Earth cannot speak; but there comes a voice from heaven; and O, with what melody it rings through Abraham’s heart!—“Abraham! Abraham! lay not thine hand upon the