The truth is, as the apostle teaches us, "the law entered that the offense might abound." (Rom. v. 20.) This shows us very distinctly the real object of the law. It came in by the way in order to set forth the exceeding sinfulness of sin. (Rom. vii. 13.) It was, in a certain sense, like a perfect mirror let down from heaven to reveal to man his moral derangement. If I present myself with deranged habit before a mirror, it shows me the derangement, but does not set it right. If I measure a crooked wall with a perfect plumb-line, it reveals the crookedness, but does not remove it. If I take out a lamp on a dark night, it reveals to me all the hindrances and disagreeables in the way, but it does not remove them. Moreover, the mirror, the plumb-line, and the lamp do not _create_ the evils which they severally point out; they neither _create_ nor _remove_, but simply _reveal_. Thus it is with the law; it does not create the evil in man's heart, neither does it remove it; but, with unerring accuracy, it reveals it.
"What shall we say then? Is the law sin? God forbid. Nay, I had not known sin, but by the law; for I had not known lust, except the law had said, 'Thou shalt not covet.'" (Rom. vii. 7.) He does not say that he would not have had "lust." No; but merely that he "had not known" it. The "lust" was there; but he was in the dark about it until the law, as "the candle of the Almighty," shone in upon the dark chambers of his heart and revealed the evil that was there. Like a man in a dark room, who may be surrounded with dust and confusion, but he cannot see aught thereof by reason of the darkness. Let the beams of the sun dart in upon him, and he quickly perceives all. Do the sunbeams create the dust? Surely not. The dust is there, and they only detect and reveal it. This is a simple illustration of the effect of the law. It judges man's character and condition; it proves him to be a sinner, and shuts him up under the curse; it comes to judge what he is, and curses him if he is not what it tells him he ought to be.
It is therefore a manifest impossibility that any one can get life and righteousness by that which can only curse him; and unless the condition of the sinner, and the character of the law are totally changed, it can do naught else but curse him. It makes no allowance for infirmities, and knows nothing of sincere, though imperfect, obedience. Were it to do so, it would not be what it is--"holy, just, and good." It is just because the law is what it is that the sinner cannot get life by it. If he could get life by it, it would not be perfect, or else he would not be a sinner. It is impossible that a sinner can get life by a perfect law, for inasmuch as it is perfect, it must needs condemn him. Its absolute perfectness makes manifest and seals man's absolute ruin and condemnation. "Therefore, by deeds of law shall no flesh living be justified in His sight; for by the law is the knowledge of sin." (Rom. iii. 20.) He does not say, By the law is sin, but only "the knowledge of sin." "For until the law, sin was in the world; but sin is not imputed when there is no law." (Rom. v. 13.) Sin was there, and it only needed law to develop it in the form of "transgression." It is as if I say to my child, You must not touch that knife. My very prohibition reveals the tendency in his heart to do his own will. It does not create the tendency, but only reveals it.
The apostle John says that "sin is lawlessness." (1 John iii. 4.) The word "transgression" does not develop the true idea of the Spirit in this passage. In order to have "transgression," I must have a definite rule or line laid down. Transgression means a passing across a prohibited line; such a line I have in the law. I take any one of its prohibitions, such as, "Thou shalt not kill," "Thou shalt not commit adultery," "Thou shalt not steal." Here I have a rule or line set before me; but I find I have within me the very principles against which these prohibitions are expressly directed. Yea, the very fact of my being told not to commit murder shows that I have murder in my nature. There would be no necessity to tell me not to do a thing which I had no tendency to do; but the exhibition of God's will as to what I ought to be makes manifest the tendency of my will to be what I ought not. This is plain enough, and is in full keeping with the whole of the apostolic reasoning on the point.