Albert Barnes Commentary


Albert Barnes Commentary
"And whereas thou sawest the iron mixed with miry clay, they shall mingle themselves with the seed of men; but they shall not cleave one to another, even as iron doth not mingle with clay." — Daniel 2:43 (ASV)
And whereas thou sawest iron mixed with miry clay, they shall mingle themselves with the seed of men — Various explanations have been given of this verse, and it certainly is not easily interpreted. The phrase “seed of men” would properly denote something different from the original stock that was represented by iron: some foreign admixture that would be so unlike it, and that would so little amalgamate with it, as to be properly represented by clay as compared with iron. Professor Stuart interprets this as referring to matrimonial alliances, and supposes that the idea expressed is that, “while the object of such alliances was union, or at least a design to bring about a peaceful state of things, that object was, in a peculiar manner, defeated.” The word rendered “men” (אנשׁא 'ănâshâ') is employed in Hebrew and in Chaldee to denote men of an inferior class — the lower orders, the common herd — in contradistinction from the more elevated and noble classes, represented by the word אישׁ 'ı̂ysh.
The word used here also (from אנשׁ 'ânash — to be sick, ill at ease, incurable) would properly denote feebleness or inferiority, and would be aptly represented by clay as contrasted with iron. The expression “seed of men,” as used here, would therefore denote some intermingling of an inferior race with the original stock; some union or alliance under the one sovereignty, which would greatly weaken it as a whole, though the original strength was still great.
The language would represent a race of mighty and powerful men, constituting the stamina — the bone and sinew of the empire — mixed with another race or other races with whom, though associated in the government, they could never be blended or assimilate. This foreign admixture in the empire would be a constant source of weakness and would constantly tend to division and faction, for such elements could never harmonize.
It is further to be remarked that this would exist to a degree not found in any of the three previous kingdoms. In fact, in those kingdoms, there was no such intermingling with foreign nations as to destroy the homogeneity of the empire.
They were, in the main, Orientals, with the language, manners, customs, and habits of Orientals. In respect to energy and power — the point here under consideration — there was no marked distinction between the subjected provinces and the original materials of the monarchy. By the act of subjection, they became substantially one people and readily blended together.
This remark will certainly apply to the first two of these monarchies — the Babylonian and the Medo-Persian. Though it applies with less force to the Macedonian, it was not true of that kingdom that it became so intermingled with foreign people as to constitute heterogeneous elements, as was the case with the Roman. In the Macedonian monarchy, the element of “strength” was “infused” by Alexander and his Greeks; all the elements of weakness were in the original materials of the empire.
In the Roman Empire, the element of strength — “the iron” — was in the original material of the empire; the weak, heterogeneous element — “the clay” — was what was introduced from foreign nations. This consideration may perhaps help to show that the opinion of Grotius, Professor Stuart, and others, that this fourth monarchy was what immediately succeeded Alexander, is not well founded.
The only question then is whether, in the constitution of the Roman Empire at the time it became the successor of the other three as a universal monarchy, there was such an intermingling of a foreign element as to be properly represented by clay contrasted with the original and stronger material, “iron.” I say, “at the time when it became the successor of the other three as a universal monarchy,” because that was the only point of view in which Daniel contemplated it. He looked at this, as he did at the others, as already such a universal dominion, and not at what it was before, or at the steps by which it rose to power.
Now, looking at the Roman Empire at that period — during the time it occupied the position of the universal monarchy and during which the “stone cut out of the mountain” grew and filled the world — there is no difficulty in finding such an intermingling with other nations (“the seed of men”) as to be properly described by “iron and clay” in the same image that could never be blended. The allusion is probably to the intermingling with other nations that so remarkably characterized the Roman Empire.
This intermingling arose partly from its conquests and partly from the inroads of other people in the latter days of the empire. In reference to both, there was no proper amalgamation, leaving the original vigor of the empire substantially in its strength but introducing other elements that never amalgamated with it and were like clay intermingled with iron.
From their conquests. Tacitus says, Dominandi cupido cunctis affectibus flagrantior est — the lust of ruling is more ardent than all other desires; and this was eminently true of the Romans. They aspired to the dominion of the world; and, in their strides to universal conquest, they brought nations under their subjection and admitted them to the rights of citizenship, which had no affinity with the original material that composed the Roman power, and which never really amalgamated with it, any more than clay does with iron.
This was true, also, in respect to the hordes that poured into the empire from other countries, particularly from the Scandinavian regions, in the latter periods of the empire, and with which the Romans were compelled to form alliances, while, at the same time, they could not amalgamate with them. “In the reign of the emperor Caracalla,” says Mr. Gibbon, “an innumerable swarm of Suevi appeared on the banks of the Mein, and in the neighborhood of the Roman provinces, in quest of food, or plunder, or glory. The hasty army of volunteers gradually coalesced into a great and permanent nation, and as it was composed of so many different tribes, assumed the name of Allemanni, or “allmen,” to denote their various lineage, and their common bravery.” No reader of Roman history can be ignorant of the invasions of the Goths, the Huns, and the Vandals, or of the effects of these invasions on the empire.
No one can be ignorant of the manner in which they became intermingled with the ancient Roman people, or of the attempts to form alliances with them by intermarriages and otherwise, which were always like attempts to unite iron and clay. “Placidia, daughter of Theodosius the Great, was given in marriage to Adolphus, king of the Goths; the two daughters of Stilicho, the Vandal, were successively married to Honorius; and Genseric, another Vandal, gave Eudocia, a captive imperial princess, to his son to wife.” The effects of the intermingling of foreign people on the character and destiny of the empire cannot be stated perhaps in a more graphic manner than is done by Mr. Gibbon, in the summary review of Roman History with which he concludes his seventh chapter, and at the same time there could scarcely be a more clear or expressive commentary on this prophecy of Daniel. “During the first four ages,” says he, “the Romans, in the laborious school of poverty, had acquired the virtues of war and government: by the vigorous exertion of those virtues, and by the assistance of fortune, they had obtained, in the course of the three succeeding centuries, an absolute empire over many countries of Europe, Asia, and Africa. The last three hundred years had been consumed in apparent prosperity and internal decline. The nation of soldiers, magistrates, and legislators, who composed the thirty-five tribes of the Roman people, was dissolved into the common mass of mankind, and confounded with the million of servile provincials who had received the name without adopting the spirit of Romans. A mercenary army, levied among the subjects and barbarians of the frontier, was the only order of men who preserved and abused their independence.
By their tumultuary election, a Syrian, a Goth, or an Arab was exalted to the throne of Rome, and invested with despotic power over the conquests and over the country of the Scipios. The limits of the Roman empire still extended from the Western Ocean to the Tigris, and from Mount Atlas to the Rhine and the Danube. To the undiscerning eye of the common, Philip appeared a monarch no less powerful than Hadrian or Augustus had formerly been. The form was still the same, but the animating health and rigor were fled. The industry of the people was discouraged and exhausted by a long series of oppression. The discipline of the legions, which alone, after the extinction of every other virtue, had propped the greatness of the state, was corrupted by the ambition, or relaxed by the weakness of the emperors.
The strength of the frontiers, which had always consisted in arms rather than in fortifications, was insensibly undermined, and the fairest provinces were left exposed to the rapaciousness or ambition of the barbarians, who soon discovered the decline of the Roman empire.” — Vol. 1, pp. 110, 111; Harper’s Edition (New York) 1829.
(Compare the notes at Revelation 6:1-8). The agency of the Roman Empire was so important in preparing the world for the advent of the Son of God, and in reference to the establishment of his kingdom, that there was an obvious propriety that it should be made a distinct subject of prophecy. We have seen that each of the other three kingdoms had an important influence in preparing the world for the introduction of Christianity and was designed to accomplish an important part in the “History of Redemption.” The agency of the Roman Empire was more direct and important than any one or all of these, for:
It may be useful, therefore, in an exposition of this prophecy, to refer with some particularity to the things that were accomplished by this “fourth kingdom” in furthering the work of redemption, or in introducing and establishing the kingdom that was to be “set up, and which was never to be destroyed.” That agency related to the following points:
The establishment of a universal dominion; the fact that the world was brought under one scepter greatly favored the propagation of the Christian religion. We have seen, under the previous dynasties — the Babylonian, Persian, and Macedonian — that such a universal empire was important in earlier ages to “prepare” the world for the advent of the Messiah. This was still more important when he was about actually to appear, and his religion was to be spread over the world. It greatly favored the diffusion of the new system that there was one empire, that the means of communication from one part of the world to another had been so extended by the Romans, and that one who was entitled to the privileges of citizenship could claim protection in nearly every part of the world.
The prevalence of universal peace. The world had become subject to Roman power, and conquest was at an end. The world at last, after such long agitations and strifes, was at peace. The distant provinces quietly submitted to Roman control; the civil dissensions that had reigned so long at the capital were hushed. Augustus, having triumphed over all his rivals, quietly occupied the imperial throne, and, as a symbol of the universal peace, the temple of Janus was closed.
Rarely in their history had that temple been closed before; yet there was an obvious propriety that when the “Prince of Peace” should come, the world should be at rest, and the clangor of arms should cease. It was a beautiful emblem of the nature of his reign. A world that had always been in conflict before rested on its arms; the tumult of battle had died away; the banners of war were furled; the legions of Rome paused in their career of conquest, and the world tranquilly waited for the coming of the Son of God.
The Roman power accomplished an important agency in the great transaction which the Son of God came to perform in his making an atonement for the sins of the world. It was so arranged in the Divine counsels that he should be put to death, not by the hands of his own kindred and countrymen, but by the hands of foreigners and under their authority. The necessity and certainty of this were early predicted by the Saviour (Matthew 20:19; Mark 10:33; Luke 18:32), and it is clear that there were important reasons why it should be done this way. Doubtless, one design of bringing Judea and the rest of the world under the Roman yoke was that it might be accomplished in this manner. Among the “reasons” for this may be suggested the following:
The pagan world, as well as the Jewish community, thus had a part in the great transaction. He died for the whole world — Jews and Gentiles — and it was important that this fact should be referred to in the manner of his death, and that the two great divisions of the human family should be united in the great transaction. It thus became not a “Jewish” affair only, not an event in which Judea alone was interested, but an affair of the world, a transaction in which the representatives of the world took their part.
It was thus made a matter of publicity. The account of the death of the Saviour would thus, of course, be transmitted to the capital and would demand the attention of those who were in power. When the gospel was preached at Rome, it would be proper to allege that it was a thing in which Rome itself had had an important agency, from the fact that under Roman authority the Messiah had been put to death.
The agency of the Romans, therefore, established the certainty of the death of Jesus, and consequently the certainty of his having risen from the dead. To demonstrate the latter, it was indispensable that the former should be made certain and that all questions regarding the reality of his death should be placed beyond a doubt. This was done by the agency of Pilate, a Roman governor. His death was certified to Pilate, and he was satisfied of it. It became a matter of record, a point about which there could be no dispute. Accordingly, in all the questions that came up concerning the religion of Christ, it was never doubted that he had been really put to death under Pilate, the Roman governor, whatever question may have arisen about the fact of his resurrection.
Equally important was the agency of the Romans in establishing the “innocence” of the Saviour. After patient and repeated trials before himself, Pilate was constrained to say that he was innocent of the charges alleged against him and that no fault could be found in him. In proclaiming the gospel, it was of immense importance to be able to affirm this throughout the world. It could never be alleged against the gospel that its Author had violated the laws or that he deserved to be put to death as a malefactor, for the records of the Roman governor himself showed the contrary.
The agency of the Romans, therefore, in the great work of the atonement, though undesigned on their part, was of inestimable importance in the establishment of the Christian religion. It may be presumed that it was for this, in part at least, that the world was placed under their control and that it was so ordered that the Messiah suffered under authority derived from them.
Another important agency of the Romans, in reference to the religion that was to fill the earth, was in destroying the city of Jerusalem and bringing to a final end the whole system of Hebrew rites and ceremonies. The ancient sacrifices truly lost their efficacy when the atonement was made on the cross. Then there was no need for the temple, the altar, and the ancient priesthood. It was necessary that the ancient rites should cease and that, having now lost their efficacy, there should be no possibility of perpetuating them.
Accordingly, within about thirty years after the death of the Saviour, when there had been time to perceive the bearing of the atonement on their temple rites and when it was plain that they were no longer efficacious, significant, or necessary, the Romans were allowed to destroy the city, the altar, and the temple, and to bring the whole system to a perpetual end. The place where the ancient worship had been celebrated was made a heap of ruins; the altar was overturned, never to be built again; and the pomp and splendor of the ancient ritual passed away forever.
It was the design of God that that system should come to a perpetual end. Hence, by his providence, it was so arranged that ruin should spread over the city where the Lord was crucified, and that the Jewish people should never build an altar or a temple there again. To this day, it has never been in their power to kindle the fire of sacrifice there or to cause the smoke of incense to ascend in a temple consecrated to the worship of the God of their fathers. The agency of this fourth kingdom, therefore, was exceedingly important in the introduction and establishment of that kingdom which was to be perpetual and which was to fill the earth; hence, the reference to it here and the more extended reference in Daniel 7.