and melting cold hearts into radiant warmth, should do all that his poor, cold, outward baptism only shadowed.  Form and substance of this great promise gather up many Old Testament utterances.  From of old, fire had been the emblem of the divine nature, not only, nor chiefly, as destructive, but rather as life-giving, cleansing, gladdening, fructifying, transforming.  From of old, the promise of a divine Spirit poured out on all flesh had been connected with the kingdom of Messiah; and John but reiterates the uniform voice of prophecy, even as he anticipates the crowning gift of the gospel, in this saying.

Note, further, the renewed prophecy of judgment.  There is something very solemn in the stern refrain at the end of each of three consecutive verses,—­’with fire.’  The first and the third refer to the destructive fire; the second, to the cleansing Spirit.  But the fire that destroys is not unconnected with that which purifies.  And the very same divine flame, if welcomed and yielded to, works purity, and if repelled and scorned, consumes.  The rustic simplicity of the figures of the husbandman with his winnowing-shovel, the threshing-floor exposed to every wind, the stored wheat, the rootless, lifeless, worthless chaff, and the fierce fire in some corner of the autumn field where it is utterly burned up—­needs no comment.  They add nothing but another vivid picture to the thoughts already dealt with.  But the question arises as to the whole of the representation of judgment here:  Does it look beyond the present world?  I see no reason for supposing that John was speaking about anything but the sifting and destroying which would attend the coming of the looked-for kingdom on earth.  The principles which he laid down are, no doubt, true for both worlds; but the application of them which his prophetic mission embraced, lies on this side of the grave.

Note, further, the limitations in John’s knowledge of the King.  His prophecy unites, as contemporaneous, events which, in fact, are widely separate,—­the coming of Christ, and the judgments which He executes, whether on Israel or in the final ‘great day of the Lord.’  There is no perspective in prophecy.  The future is foreshortened, and great gulfs of centuries are passed over, as, standing on a plain, we see it as continuous, though it may really be cleft by deep ravines.  He did not know ‘what manner of time’ the spirit which was in him did ‘signify.’  No doubt his expectations were correct, in so far as Christ’s coming really sifted and separated, and was the rising and the falling of many; but it was not attended by such tokens as John inferred.  Hence we can understand his doubts when in prison, and learn that a prophet was often mistaken as to the meaning of his message.