The Cities of Refuge: or, The Name of Jesus A Sunday book for the young — Text and Context

Alpine Refuges and Biblical Typology

The opening chapter describes the Simplon refuges in specific detail: 'plain, square buildings' with inscriptions like 'Refuge No. 1' and 'Refuge No. 2,' set against a landscape of 'Alpine rhododendron' and 'blue gentian.' Macduff explains that these shelters are intended for travellers caught in sudden storms, though in summer they remain unused. This observation is then mapped directly onto the biblical cities of refuge, which were appointed for the manslayer who killed unintentionally. The typology is explicit: the physical refuge prefigures Christ. Notably, the author does not claim that the Alpine refuges were consciously designed as types; rather, he uses them as a contemporary illustration that his young audience could visualize. The description of the pass—with its 'stray patches of winter's snow' and 'avalanches'—grounds the metaphor in a specific, recognizable geography, distinct from the Palestine of the catalog subjects.

A Deathbed Dream and the Armour of Self-Righteousness

In a later section, Macduff recounts a young man's dream from a deathbed in 'E——.' The dreamer sees a shop hung with armour and coats of mail; people gird them on, but a man with a drawn sword cuts them down one by one. The dreamer then notices a 'web of coarse linen' on an upper shelf, wraps himself in it, and emerges unharmed. The interpretation is supplied: the armour represents 'self-righteousness,' while the linen is 'the righteousness of Jesus.' This anecdote is striking for its narrative detail—the shop, the pavement, the bodies—and for its explicit moral application. The author uses the dream to argue that human efforts at righteousness are futile, a point reinforced by the biblical quotation 'Put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ.' The passage exemplifies Macduff’s method of embedding doctrinal teaching within vivid, even dramatic, illustrative stories.

Direct Address to Young Readers and the Urgency of Flight

Throughout the book, Macduff repeatedly turns to direct address: 'Reader, let me ask, is this your case?' He warns young readers not to assume they are safer because they have committed fewer sins, insisting that 'one single sin' exposes them to the avenger. The language of pursuit is relentless: the Hebrew fugitive might hide in caves or forests, but the sinner cannot escape God's all-seeing eye. A poetic quotation reinforces this: 'If I should find some cave unknown, / Where human foot had never trod, / Even there I could not be alone— / On every side there would be God.' The urgency is heightened by the claim that many young and old 'HAVE fled' to Jesus, implying that the reader should do the same. This direct, exhortatory tone is characteristic of the Sunday book genre, but Macduff grounds it in the specific mechanics of the refuge system—the manslayer's need to reach the city before the avenger catches him.

Readers should note that the catalog subjects—'Bible. Old Testament -- Geography' and 'Cities and towns -- Palestine'—describe the book’s scriptural basis rather than its actual content. The excerpts reveal a work of evangelical typology, not a geographical survey. The cities of refuge are treated almost exclusively as symbols, with no detailed description of their historical layout or location. Similarly, the 'travel-geography' secondary topic is misleading: the only travel narrative is the Alpine anecdote, which serves as an extended metaphor rather than a geographical account. The book is best approached as a devotional sermon series for children, structured around a single typological image.

There’s something tender about how the old writers pictured safe places — the cities as a promise, not a threat. I’ve been thinking of that quiet urgency when I recall another little volume, And Judas Iscariot Together with other evangelistic addresses — Background and Themes, which lingers on the same shadowed mercy. Both feel like earnest voices from a gentler time, asking us to consider how grace finds us, even in hard stories.