We have complied with the apostle's injunction. We have con. sidered Christ in the faithfulness of his priesthood. The thought of that faithfulness should encourage us in acts of worship-should comfort us in trouble; and, in particular, should strengthen and invigorate our Christian hope. The most holy place in the tabernacle was on earth the place of nearest communion with God. There stood the ark of the testimony, overshadowed by golden cherubim, above the mercy seat; and sometimes between the cherubim the cloud of glory rested, the visible symbol of God's especial gracious presence, and with a voice from off the mercy seat, he did, in condescension, commune with men. It was a sacred, happy place. The pious Jew might often regret that he was not allowed to enter it. He would love to look upon those mysteries, and to listen to that voice, and go to approach very near to the Most High. Yet it could not be. The high priest only, on behalf of the people, was permitted to go in. So clearly was this known to be the will of Heaven that he never asked for the entrance in of the people there. We have a higher privilege and a nobler Priest. Jesus has entered, not into the holy places made with hands, but into heaven itself; and his intercession there secures the going thither of all his people. They shall look on symbols of infinite majesty there; shall see God enthroned amid living cherubim ; shall, with those glorious creatures, contemplate his mysteries, and listen to his voice; shall witness the ministering of their great Intercessor within the vail ; and perceive, as they never did before, the value of his sprinkled blood. For his prayer for them is this : “Father, I will that they also whom thou hast given the me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory." In Rieran heaven, Christ's will is law; his prayer is always heard. We con. sider, therefore, the Apostle and High Priest of our profession, and are encouraged and justified in the hope even of eternal life.

971

FOR THE LORD'S SUPPER.

BY THE LATE REV. JOIN RYLAND, D.D. FATHER, GOD, we trust we be

May thy Spirit now impart Part of thine own family ;

To each guest a broken heart; While we sit around thy board, Broken hearts alone are fed Deign thy presence to afford.

Truly with this broken bread. Richly are thy children fed,

All of Christ we would receive, Christ's own body is our bread;

All ourselves to him would give; Sure, the taste of blood divine

On us now impress thy seal, Far exceeds the noblest wine.

Past backslidings kindly heal. These appointed symbols show

Having sung this hymn, we part, What he suffered here below;

May we still be joined in heart; Set before our mental eyes,

All united, may we be, All his dreadful agonies.

To each other and to thee. 1785.

Tales and Sketches.

SOWING AND REAPING.

| certain respect for the priests, with

out, however, blindly obeying all their A COLPORTEUR named Mesurier came commands. His natural pity preone evening, some years ago, to a vil vailed over the curate's bitterness; he lage in the centre of France. Wea consented to open his door to the Bible ried by his long journey, he sought colporteur, but with no intention of shelter for the night. But he had listening to his discourse. been denounced already, in a former

Mesurier followed his guide, prayvisit, by the Popish curate as a here ing to God from the depths of his tic, a corrupter of souls, a seller of heart to bless this meeting to the dangerous books, &c. So, on his en peasant. They soon entered a cottrance into the village, he was received tage situated some distance from the with threats, insults, and curses. main road. A woman was busy preEvery door was shut against him, paring the supper. even that of the inn, and he could “Margaret,” said the old man, on only obtain a glass of cold water to entering, “I bring you a guest for to: quench his thirst.

night.” Poor Mesurier continued his walk, Margaret was much more bigoted hurrying on; for the sky was covered than her husband. The country. with clouds, and the distant rumbling women generally, being wholly subject of thunder made him fear a violent to the dominion of the priests, are storm. He asked, with a heavy almost all very ignorant, and held heart, how he could reach the city captive by the confessional. which was several miles off. His Margaret advanced in a friendly countenance probably showed his way towards the stranger ; but when state of anguish; for an old peasant, she recognised the seller of Bibles, Peter ---, suddenly approached the she drew back in terror, crying outcolporteur, and, striking him upon the “Holy Virgin ! the seller of Bibles shoulder, said,

here! a heretic in my house !" "Friend, what do you think of the “For shame !" said old Peter, disweather?”'

pleased, “you would not wish to “It is not fair ; we will have a refuse shelter to a traveller overtaken storm to-nigbt,” replied Mesurier. by the storm. Friend, draw near to

“And you don't know where to find the fire, and sit down ; rest yourself shelter?"

while waiting for supper. And you, “God wills it so ; let his will be , my good wife, be quick; for we are done! I have knocked in vain at hungry." every door.”

Margaret obeyed; but she mur“I know it, friend. Things were | mured between lier teeth; and when different in my youth; we would not the colporteur tried to speak to her have refused shelter to the belated kindly, she answered in cold monotraveller, even if he were a heretic. syllables. She evidently feared that For the honour of my neighbourhood the curse of heaven had entered her it shall not be said that this good cus dwelling with the heretic. tom is lost. So come to my house; I At supper-time a third person, will receive you."

Anthony, the son, came to the table. “May the Lord bless and reward He was a young man of good appearyou for your goodness.”

ance, and had acquired a partial edu"Friend, I have not much confi. cation at school. Unfortunately, he dence in your blessing, if what the had kept bad company; and not only curate has told us be true ; but no did he reject the superstitions of his matter, come.”

mother, but he was not cautious in This Peter - was one of those speaking like his father; Anthony many French peasants, Roman was an infidel, a scoffer. During Catholic by birth, but indifferent supper he attacked the opinions of the upon religious things, who showed a ' colporteur.

“All these mummeries are worth 1 “I would have you, my worthy less," said he, “Catholies and Protes | friend, look more to the Lord Jesus, tants, it is the same thing; of what and less to the priest, who, placing use to be troubled with this non- | himself between the Saviour and the sense ?!?

sinner, prevents him from being "Anthony! Anthony! wbat do saved.” you mean? what will the curate say?" The peasant hesitated a few

“He may say what he pleases, moments longer; but at last, yielding mo'her!" replied the young man ; to a feeling of civility, he accepted “but take care that he does not this book, and slipped it quickly inflict upon you heavy penance for into his pocket. The colporteur took harbouring a heretic."

up his bundle again, bade farewell to “ Alas! I foresee it well; but what ! his hosts, and went on his way, can I do? He is your father's praying God to bless his holy word. guest; the saints and the Virgiu will come to my help.”

Some years passed before he again The old peasant, disliking this con made his appearance in this village. versation, put an end to it by telling Mesurier had met many other infidels both to be silent.

and scoffers; he had pursued his work After the repast, Mesurier began of evangelisation amid many obsta. again some religious conversation. cles, and remembered no longer the He asked young Anthony if he had names of Peter, Margaret, and ever read the Bible.

Anthony. “My son bas something better to It was night. He entered a house ; do," replied the father, gravely. an aged woman sat sewing near a “The Bible is not made for us poor window ; suffering had left deep peasants ; it is the priests' book. marks in her emaciated face. À The curate has told us that it cannot young man, pale, and showing sympbe understood but by the learned.” toms of a near end, was in bed in a

The colporteur found that he could corner of the room. expect nothing from these people, The colporteur cast a rapid glance governed by inveterate prejudices; over this scene of desolation, aud but he remembered also that nothing said—“May the Lord be gracious to was impossible to God. Retiring to you! All things work together for the chamber appointed for him, he good to those who love God.” fell on his knees, and prayed aloud On hearing these words the woman for the old man, and his wife, and his appeared suddenly delighted, and the son, begging the Father of mercies to young man half rose upon his couch. convert these hard hearts.

“Come in, sir,” said he ; "come The next day, as he was about to in ; if you love the Lord Jesus Christ, leave, he offered some money to the you are welcome,-yes, welcome !" peasant.

Mesurier was surprised to find such “Keep your money," replied people in this remote village. Peter; “ do you think I give hospital “You know, then, the Lord Jesus, ity for money? No, no, keep your and you love him ?” said he to the money."

young man. “Tell me how you came “Well, accept at least this New to know him." Testament, as a remembrance of our The sick man placed his hand upon meeting, and

the volume by his side. The colpor“Keep your book !" roughly inter teur understood this silent reply, and rupted the old man; "have I not told soon all the remembrance of what had you that I do not wish to change my occurred several years before pressed religion ?

upon his mind. He asked the woman “The question is not to change to tell him of the gracious work which your religion, but to become a true had been accomplished in the family, Christian '

and she related the particulars, for “Christian !" cried the villager, in substance, as follows: dignantly; "are we not all Christians ? “My husband was sick, and his days Do you think we are Turks? We passed wearily. To divert himself he believe in God; what do you wish opened mechanically the New Testa

ment. Gradually he became inter

Christhristian !" crienot all Christ. We

passed mechanicie'he became

more?

ested in reading it; his heart was, but he was never late, and never ab-
touched, and he prayed to God to teach sent. There he sat, day after day,
him. Then he seriously warned me, his honest, earnest face turned full on
and entreated me to read in my turn mine- a joy to behold.. And it was
this divine book. I resisted for a long so for many months; perhaps years.
time, saying it was forbidden by the But one day I observed a quiet, plain,
priests. My poor husband was not pleasant young woman in the pew
discouraged; he persevered, and, 1 along with him. She, I noted, came
thanks to God, I listened to his now in the morning, and anon in the
counsel, and was led to the knowledge evening; till as a communion occasion
of the gospel. My husband died in drew near I was asked, could I soo
the faith, with the hope that we | Miss B--? Of course I could. She
should meet again at the feet of the came; she told me all that was in her
Saviour. But all my sorrows were heart; how she was born again, and
not ended, and my son Anthony the means of it. She told me how
(here sobs interrupted the woman's | her soul was fed, and how it grew
story), --my son fell dangerously ill.” under my poor ministry; and how the

"Your son, mother, the Lord be Lord had cast my friend s- in her blessed !” said the young man, “ will way, and that they were engaged to also go to wait you in the abode of be married-(this did not come forth celestial glory. I am ready to depart. easily)--and how they only waited for The scales fell from my eyes while the Lord's own time and way. What reading the word of God. I see and a joy all this was to me! what a riches I believe.”

and wealth of quiet gladness! How I rejoiced with her, and blessed the

great mercy and goodness of God on " WITH HIS OWN HAND."

their behalf !

My friend SM was a labouringI was but young in the ministry, man, earning small weekly wages, and and had many empty benches. A his friend B- was simply an ordinary stranger was ever looked on with in household servant; so they had to terest. I had noted a quiet, decent, wait long before they could furnish plain young man, who posted him their little cottage, and be united. self day after day in different parts But the glad day came at length; they of the church : now up stairs, now were married by me, and I spent with below. Finally, I observed that he them a portion of the first day of their became stationary, and was as regular married life. I know not how it was, in his place as I was in mine. One yet so it was, that though we were all day he dropped into the Sunday | very happy, there mingled a solemn school. I was there, and took occa trembling with our mirth. My friends sion to accost him. He told me his had taken a very small cottage in the story: how he was awakened in Aber country, far from me, near S's work, deenshire long ago, in the early and there they abode in peace and M'Cheyne times; and how he had comfort; still attending my ministry: been working near London, and had S- often reverting to the “word been seeking out a place wherein he in season to him that is weary.” They might worship God. He told me how were both most regular in theirattendhe had sat in judgment on my labours, ance till towards the close of the first carefully and cautiously, not knowing year of their union, when Mrs. Swho I was; till one evening I preached ceased to come so frequently, and I from the text, “ The Lord God hath noted, when she did come, a paleness given me the tongue of the learned, and a redness, neither of which I that I should know how to speak a liked. Then the walk got to be too word in season to him that is weary," much for her; and then it was found &c. ; then after that he had no diffi that a cold had settled down into a culty, but cast in his lot with us; confirmed cough and consumption, could we find work for him in the and she was very weak. After an school?

interval, Mrs. S was transferred My new friend

S h ad to travel to the Consumption Hospital, where nearly six miles every Lord's day; | I had opportunity of seeing her very

household som Was simply wages, and

us to

If he

often. I soon saw that death had set -till!" and then for the first time his seal on her brow, and that it was | she too wept. “Till,” said I, “We only a question of months, it might meet where there is no more suffer. be even of weeks only. I spoke of ing, sorrow, or parting; where God death to her. At first she could not | the Lord sball wipe away all tears look kindly on it at all. It seemed a from every eye." “ Yes,” she said, sorrowful ending to her young life, “that's it--that's it. God the Lord to break it off just there. But slowly shall do it” (her voice husky, and she came round; it was the will of low, and slow); “ he will do it himGod, and sbe said meekly, humbly, self--with bis own hand-he will not “Thy will be done.” A few months let another do it-he loves them too spent in the Consumption Hospital | well for that he will do it himselfproved that the disease was incurable, | with his own hand !” The last words and she was sent home to her husband. | were uttered with such an emphasis, A few weeks thereafter, I heard that | and there was such a look in the clear she had become the mother of a fine bright eye, that they went to my healthy boy, and that her life was heart. I never had heard anything still spared. She mended, and saw | more real than that; and I came away the child grow up to be some weeks without the power even to say, “Fare. old; but slowly and surely she was | well!” The city missionary came coming down on the other side, and, | with me. After a long silence, he at last, it became evident that she said, “Well, sir, of all the solemn could not live many days more. I services I ever saw, or heard tell of, was asked to go out to see her before that's the most solemn. I never exshe died. I appointed an early even pect to meet with anything more ing. Oh! bow well I remember the solemn till I come to the judgment of walk out to that suburb on a fine sum | God." I said nothing. There was a mer afternoon. I found the cottage. | great fire in London ; the whole atHow tidy and neat it was, without | mosphere above us was ruddy with a and within ! Mrs. S- was lifted fiery glow. But we took no note of on to the sofa, and there was tea, and it, gave no heed to it, and walked on much pleasant aud profitable talk. in silence. A few days after and all Then Mr. S- returned from his was over. Mrs. S--- went up to her labour, and about seven o'clock a city Father, leaving her husband and child missionary, and one or two humble behind her. neighbours, came in. I conducted a Dear reader, have you been to regular service, though short-sing Jesus to hear his words in season ? ing psalms, in which we all joined He has a learned tongue, and knows with all our heart. The room was well how to speak them. Are you small, and it was only by door and weary, weary of sin, of corruption, of window open, a fan kept constantly | the cares, and trials, and temptations, going, and such other appliances, that in the world? Oh, betake yourself Mrs.

S could be kept from faint to him! With him is “the fountain ing away through total weakness. of life.” “ They that wait upon the Then the little child was brought in. Lord shall renew their strength,”Then I prayed; and during the whole strength for living, strength for dying; service, the place was a Bochim; there “ they shall run and not be weary ; was not a dry eye among us, Mrs. they shall walk and not faint." S—- alone excepted; she wept not. But away from Christ, what is there Never have I beheld any service so for you but weariness, and worse solemn and affecting as all that service than weariness? “If thou bast run was. But it closed, and I had to de with the footmen, and they have part. I parted with my dying friend | wearied thee, then how canst thou for the last time. I felt that I should contend with horses ?” “If in tho see her face no more. She felt it too. land of peace wherein thou trustedst Shaking my hand, she thanked me. they wearied thee, then how wilt “ We will never meet any more till l thou do in the swellings of Jordan ?"