o the children, and the heart of the
children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a
curse.'--MALACHI iii. 13-18; iv. 1-6.

This passage falls into three parts,--the 'stout words' against God
which the Prophet sets himself to confute (verses 13-15); the prophecy
of the day which will show their falsehood (verse 16 to iv. 3); and the
closing exhortation and prediction (iv. 4-6).

I. The returning exiles had not had the prosperity which they had hoped.
So many of them, even of those who had served God, began to let doubts
darken their trust, and to listen to the whispers of their own hearts,
reinforced by the mutterings of others, and to ask: 'What is the use of
religion? Does it make any difference to a man's condition?' Here had
they been keeping God's charge, and going in black garments 'before the
Lord,' in token of penitence, and no good had come to them, while
arrogant neglect of His commandments did not seem to hinder happiness,
and 'they that work wickedness are built up.' Sinful lives appeared to
have a firm foundation, and to rise high and palace-like, while
righteous ones were like huts. Goodness seemed to spell ruin.

What was wrong in these 'stout words'? It was wrong to attach such worth
to external acts of devotion, as if these were deserving of reward. It
was wrong to suspend the duty of worship on the prosperity resulting
from it, and to seek 'profit' from 'keeping his charge.' Such religion
was shallow and selfish, and had the evils of the later Pharisaism in
germ in it. It was wrong to yield to the doubts which the apparently
unequal distribution of worldly prosperity stirred in their hearts. But
the doubts themselves were almost certain to press on Old Testament
believers, as well as on Old Testament scoffers, especially under the
circumstances of Malachi's time. The fuller light of Christianity has
eased their pressure, but not removed it, and we have all had to face
them, both when our own hearts have ached with sorrow and when pondering
on the perplexities of this confused world. We look around, and, like
the psalmist, see 'the prosperity of the wicked,' and, like him, have to
confess that our 'steps had wellnigh slipped' at the sight. The old, old
question is ever starting up. 'Doth God know?' The mystery of suffering
and the mystery of its distribution, the apparent utter want of
connection between righteousness and well-being, are still formidable
difficulties in the