Madge and Constance could share with them in their enjoyment of Tom. And all agreed he was not a bit altered in himself, but was just the same dear Tom he had always been, only he was bigger, nicer looking, and, if possible, better than he used to be. The four weeks' recess slipped quickly by, and again Tom returned to Cambridge; but the second parting was not like the first. There was no bitterness in it, for they knew all about where he was going to, even to the shape of his rooms and the furniture in them; and Tom had made pen-and-ink sketches of his gyp, bedmaker, the dean, and several other principal characters figuring in his domestic and scholastic life; so that they were tolerably well up in their individual appearances, and would talk about them as if they had seen or known them. Mrs. Spriggs, the bedmaker, was a source of much amusement to them; and many a hearty laugh they had over her, after Tom was gone, when they remembered some of the anecdotes connected with her public career. Constance having completed her seventeenth year, was not to have returned to school after the holidays; but Miss Hughes begged so hard that she and Madge might not be separated, for they were of such benefit one to the other, and the Colonel was so earnest in his entreaties that the two girls should finish their education at the same time, that Mr. and Mrs. Harley consented for her to remain until midsummer, when Madge would leave school with her, a plan which Constance fully responded to. Indeed, latterly there had been a marked improvement visible in her, and she was far less high-minded, and more amenable to parental authority. She had learned to think long and seriously, and had striven hard against her ambitious desires and pride of heart; though, perhaps, the fact that Madge, who was a year younger than herself, and was quite her equal in attainments and accomplishments, had materially assisted in her gaining a truer estimate of her own position and acquirements. CHAPTER XVIII. WE must now beg our readers to pass over five years, until Tom Harley had taken his B.A. degree at Cambridge, gone through the necessary examinations in London, and has once more returned to Lotsirl to live, but not at 6, Chelsea Place, for he has a house of his own, very near to it, however, and he is married to Robin Redbreast, Madge Allen. The Colonel still resides at Chelsea Place, that is, he sleeps there, for the greater part of his days are spent at Madge's. Guy is in the middle school at Lotsirl College, and is as much a favourite as his brother was before him. Agnes assists her mother in super intending domestic affairs, and makes herself generally useful. Constance has been married two years, and keeps her carriage; but it is not a yellow one with grey horses, but a very unpretending but pretty barouche, drawn by a pair of ponies, who know their way so well to Chelsea Place, that they always stop at No. 6 without any tightening of the reins by the driver; and most fine days Mrs. Harley accompanies her daughter for a drive. But Dora; what has become of Dora? you ask. Follow me to the study in Chelsea Place, and see and hear for yourself. The evening shadows are deepening and gathering there; but there is sufficient light to make two figures clearly visible. The one is Mr. Harley, sitting in his easy-chair; the other is Dora, on an ottoman at his feet, an open book lying upon her lap. 'Dora,' observed Mr. Harley, 'is there not some one tapping at the door?" Another tap is heard, and to Dora's 'Come in,' a young girl enters, and, with a curtsey, says: Will it plaze ye, Miss Dora, to spare me an hour or two this evening?' 'Where to, Kathleen?' inquired Dora. 'I'm a-wanting to take a peep at Biddy's baby, Miss Dora. Pat 'll be seeing me home if ye plaze.' 'Well, then, you can go, Kathleen; but you had better inquire of my aunt whether you can do anything for her before you leave.' 'Sure and Miss Dora, she's gone with the Colonel an hour or more to Master Tom's—good luck to him.' Then you can go at once, Kathleen; and tell Mrs. Donovan to come up to me to-morrow morning. Don't you forget.' As if I'd be forgetting to tell mother that,' said Kathleen, as she closed the door upon Dora and her uncle. I'd be forgetting my own name before I'd forget your word, my darlint young missus.' 'Dora,' remarked Mr. Harley, after a short silence, I have been thinking over the past, and comparing it with the present, my darling, today, and I cannot quite understand how it is, but so it is, that we are so much happier since we have been poorer. Of course, I am not alluding to your circumstances, dear—they are unchanged-but to my own.' Dora drew nearer to her uncle, and, taking one of his hands within her own, replied: 'Because, dear uncle, we were drawn closer to each other in adversity, and learned to help each other in the time of need. We realized that it was our privilege to be members one of another acting, living, loving members,—and as such have proved that in Union is strength.' Words in BIBLE THOUGHTS. BY THE EDITOR. 1 PETER II. 3. THE word, if so be,' does not imply uncertainty as to this tasting, as if it were still a doubtful thing, to a believing man, whether he had tasted that the Lord was gracious, or indeed whether He were gracious at all. It means rather, 'Since ye have tasted; and assumes this as the beginning of their religious life, their Christian history. The following points will bring out all this : (1) The Lord; (2) His graciousness; (3) Our tasting of this graciousness; (4) The effects produced on us by this. I. The Lord.-It is the Lord Jesus. This is the common name for Him throughout the epistles. It is a name of honour and glory. In heaven his name is 'the Lamb,' for there is no danger of his being denied his honour there; on earth it is 'the Lord,' to keep before us his dignity and power. He is the Lord as truly as the Saviour. His graciousness, which we taste, is the graciousness of the Lord-the Lord of all-Lord of lords. II. His graciousness.-It is his love, his tender love, or tender mercies to the sinner, that are here spoken of. He is gracious,-compassionate, loving, merciful, 'forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin.' We know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.' We see his graciousness in his incarnation, in his words and deeds of grace, in his cross and grave. All that He did, spake, suffered on earth, were declarations and proofs of his grace. He is 'full of grace and truth.' This is his character. We do not need to touch the question of whom this graciousness concerns; for it is of the gracious One and his character simply that the text speaks. What He is in himself, is the great question. He is the infinitely gracious one. This graciousness is free, infinite, unchangeable. This is the vessel of fulness out of which we drink. God is love;' Christ is gracious,-this is the core of the gospel. III. Our tasting it.-The word tasting' is used in Scripture, both as to the evil and the good, the bitter and the sweet. Death is said to be 'tasted,' and so is the word of God; and so here is the graciousness of Christ. It means our thorough entering into the nature and properties of an object, whatever that may be. Taste and see that the Lord is good.' We taste that the Lord is gracious, when we relish and enjoy Him and his grace. This tasting is not something mysterious Season. or unintelligible; it is the soul's appreciation of the love of Christ, in the reception of the record concerning Him. We feel our need, our poverty, our sin; and we feel in Christ something which precisely meets all these. We drink in the good news as the thirsty man drinks the water; we feed on them as the hungry man does on the bread; we relish them as the tongue the sweetness of the honey-comb. Christ is realized as precious, suitable, sufficient; specially in his grace, his free love. This is dearer to us than gold; sweeter than honey, or the honey-comb. IV. The effects of this.-These are many, not one. This graciousness of the Lord thus filling us, and enjoyed by us, produces wonderful results in the soul. (1.) It is life to us.-Its quickening effects are marvellous. It rouses us from depression and death, infusing heavenly life. Every feature of Christ is, in its measure and way, quickening, but specially his grace. For this is, above all others, that which a dead soul needs. (2.) It is gladness to us.-No grace, no gladness; uncertain grace, uncertain gladness; scanty grace, scanty gladness. That there is such a thing as grace in God, is of itself cheering; that it has come down to us here on earth, is yet more so. That it has done so through such a channel as the Son of God; that this Son of God is himself infinitely gracious,—this is glad tidings to a sinner. (3.) It is liberty to us.-No grace, no liberty; no knowledge of grace, no sense of liberty; uncertain grace, uncertain liberty. But this grace, so free, so sure, so boundless, is the breaking of all bonds. It sets the soul wholly and for ever free. The sight of such grace as there is in this gracious One, is deliverance from bondage and fear. (4.) It is holiness.-It makes us holy men. We are not holy before we taste the grace, but become so by tasting it. It sanctifies, purifies, conforms us to the likeness of the gracious One. It leads us to lay aside all malice, and all guile, etc., and to desire the pure milk of the work. This is the result of the good news received, of the grace tasted. It transforms us into new men, according to the nature of the heavenly thing which we have tasted. The more and the longer we taste it, the more are we purified by it. It operates powerfully and gloriously. It is like sunrise chasing away the night; it is like early and latter rain, fertilizing and refreshing the ground,-making the wilderness and the solitary place to be glad, and the desert to rejoice and blossom as the rose.' OUR HIGH PRIEST. BY THE REV. J. J. BONAR, GREENOCK. NUM. VI. 22-27; LEV. IX. 22-21. E shall consider these four points, as suggested by our text: The intercessor, whose hands are lifted up; the prayer which rises from his lips; the individuals in behalf of whom he pleads; and the success which crowns his advocacy. for the guilty. But, as He leans in this attitude over our world, Jesus pleads for us, whilst He commiserates; and, with like authority and tenderness, claims every blessing that his saints may need. You remember that Jesus opened his ministry with blessing; for the fifth chapter of Matthew begins with, Blessed are the poor in spirit ;' 6 I. We look, first, at the intercessor who is Blessed are the meek.' Then, if we turn to the mentioned here. twenty-fourth chapter of Luke, we can remark that, as his feet were rising from the Mount of Olives, on his return to the skies, He shed blessing from his lips anew. And, having sat down, He reigns to bless. The sacrificial priesthood of Aaron is merged in the royal priesthood of Melchisedec; and the blood of the altar has purchased the benediction of the throne. 1. It is Aaron that is appointed to use these words; and, in doing so, his manner was as follows: As priest, he has slain the sacrifice; and passing onwards from the brazen altar, in the outer court, he sprinkles with blood the mercy seat in the holy of holies. Having put off the raiment of an ordinary priest, he robes himself in the garments of the high priest-so conspicuous for 'glory and for beauty,'—and again comes forth into the midst of the tabernacle. Elevated upon a platform, he there lifts up those hands which had borne the sacrifice; and whilst still the blood is on them, he offers, in hearing of all, the supplications we have read. 2. In this whole action, however, Aaron was the type of Jesus, our true High Priest; and all this ritual of benediction has its counterpart in 'the true tabernacle within the heavens.' In the outer court'-even this world-Jesus has shed the blood of remission; and, carrying it within the veil, He has sprinkled the throne. Laying aside the raiment of humiliation, He is glorified with the glory which He had with the Father from before all worlds.' And as High Priest of the church, IIe is ready to bless. The time is not yet come when He shall draw the curtain of the sky, and be seen in the apparel of his unlimited majesty; and till then, the antitype is not closed. Nevertheless, even now, as waiting to befriend us, Jesus 'stands' in the presence of God 'for us.' He is raised upon an eminence; 'for He has ascended into the heavens,' and 'every eye can see Him.' Lo! too, his hands are spread out, pierced by the nails; and by this it is known to all that He has made atonement 23.-50. | 6 3. Look past, then, the Aaron of our text, and see Jesus 'exalted at the Father's right hand.' Jesus cries, Father, bless!' Full of compassion and brotherhood, Jesus cries, 'Father, bless!' Pointing to the blood, wherewith Ho has washed the mercy-seat, Jesus cries, Father, bless!' Assured of the love that burns in the Father's heart, Jesus cries, 'Father, bless!' This, this is He who must rise to our view when we meditate upon the words before us; and I beseech you to hear therein the voice of Jesus only. Carry your eye beyond that veil, over which the stars are shining, and ye will descry one like the Son of man. He lifts a censer in his hands; and these hands are cleft with wounds! He speaks; and oh! listen, for He is appealing to the Godhead. Over his own bleeding sacrifice Jesus pleads, and pleads for mercy, and pleads on our behalf! II. We would now advert to the prayer Jesus offers. Jesus pleads above; but let us give heed to the import of his supplication; for his petitions are amazingly gracious, and suitable, and full. The appeal is first to the Father; and it is an appeal for safety,-the terms being, ‘Jehovah bless thee, and keep thee!' Everywhere, in Scrip ture, it is to the Father, we find, that the righteous are committed; and He is to be their Guardian, till the decree of their salvation is accomplished. We read in Eph. i. 3, 'Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us.' In Ps. cxxi. 5 we read, 'Jehovah is thy keeper: Jehovah shall preserve thy soul.' And in John xvii. 11 we read, 'Holy Father, keep through thine own name those whom Thou hast given me.' It is, then, the Creator and Ruler of all; it is Jehovah who holds the sceptre, and regulates the universe; it is the God who ordained our being, and who made us; it is the Father' who comes before us in these passages, as fixing his sleepless eye on Israel, and laying under them the arms of his eternal power. To the same Father, accordingly, is it that Jesus commends the people of his heart. And the blessing He claims for us is also the same, even this, 'Keep them !' Yes, it is safe keeping for them who have no strength, that He claims. It is protection from the hour when the elect one alights on earth, until his course is finished, that He claims. It is security against the paw of the bear, and the teeth of the lion, and the ferocity of the wolf, and the cunning of the adder, that He claims. It is deliverance from ten thousand ills, spiritual and common, known and unknown, that He claims. It is the supply of all help, and victory in every battle, that He claims! เ The High Priest, then, standing before the throne, not as God, but as man, exclaims, Make thy face to shine, and be gracious;' which is a prayer for reconciliation. Be gracious!' this is a cry for mercy, in behalf of them who were condemned; it is a cry for favour, in behalf of them whose guilt no merit of their own could expiate; it is a cry for pardon, in behalf of them who had no hope. Be gracious!' it is simply a cry for grace;' and a cry for grace, what means that, but 'love them ?' Love them! Thou Judge whom they have offended! Love them! Thou Holy One, in whose image they were made! Love them! freely, for they have nothing to pay! Love them! though they be sinners; and love them because they are sinners! Love them! and they will not die! Love them and let thy love be their everlasting portion! This is the accent of the second petition in our text; and is it not sweet and comprehensive? In its bosom lie forgiveness, assurance, immortality. It is the lip of Jesus showing us what is in the heart of Jesus; and it makes it ours, beyond all risk. It secures us Jehovah's love without fail. It binds covenant grace to us, in all its energy, and for ever. The next clause, 'Make his face to shine on thee,' conveys the idea of still higher blessing. 'Grace' is the fountain and the channel too. But here are the streams; and what streams! Jehovah looking on us, and not turning away! Jehovah reconciled to us, and making us his delight! Jehovah unfolding to us all his excellence, and seen without a cloud! Jehovah Beloved, it is this that Jesus pleads for, when, as our High Priest, He cries, Jehovah bless them, and keep them!' By this petition He lodges, as it were, his sheep in the hands of Him, from whom none can pluck them;' and engages on their behalf all the perfections of Him from whom He received them as his heritage. The prayer in our text is next an appeal to'shining' over us, and pervading us with his the Son, and an appeal for reconciliation; its tenor being this: 'Jehovah make his face to shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee.' You ask, 'How can Christ appeal to himself?' But the explanation of this seeming contradiction lies in his twofold nature and capacity, as at once God and the God-man. In his character of God-man, He addresses himself as God. And this mode of expression is not found here only; but in Eph. v. 27 we read, That Christ might glory! Ah! beloved, angels have long walked in 'the light of Jehovah's countenance,' and beamed in its lustre. But Jesus now pleads with the Godhead to shine on us;' and at his voice,' He who commanded the light to shine out of darkness hath shined in our hearts, to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ.' (To be continued.) I traveller. DIARY OF A COVENANTER. CHAPTER II. T was with a sad heart that James Ninimo found himself obliged to leave Moray; and his journey was one of some anxiety, when he found whom he was to have for a fellow'On Saturday, crossing at Dundee, I was cast in company with one of the king's heralds, which was unpleasant to me. But I made the best of it I could; and when we lighted, though I could not drink so well, yet I was frank in paying, which pleased him. We were benighted at Kennoway, and after supper the herald said, he thought we might ride to Kirkcaldie next morning to hear sermon; and albeit, it stunned me to travel on Sabbath; yet, considering our quarters was hard at the kirk there, and I might be noticed if I went not, which I had not freedom to do, we might venture forward, and some gentle shift might be made. So I said to him, "Then let us clear our reckoning, that we have nothing to do on Sabbath morning but take our horses." He replied, "Then they will call us Whigs; " and I answered, "We would be soon up, and it was not fit then to trouble our hostess." And so we cleared, and next morning took our horses early. Now, I was feared for carnal discourse on the Lord's day, and so boarded him with some uncontroverted spiritual discourse, which did so take, and we felt to be so serious, that though we both had knowledge of the way, yet we went a considerable space out of it, before we noticed. Coming to Kirkcaldie Pathead, he said he had a brother lived there, and kept a change, and he thought we might breakfast there, and go from that to the kirk at Kirkcaldie. I was willing to light; but instead of a brother, as I expected, he was a brother messenger-at-arms only, which was yet more undesirable. But I carried it as pleasant as possible. After breakfast, I said I thought I was weary with travel, therefore would let the kirk alone for a day. He replied, "So would he." So, after a little, taking my Bible privately, and seeing a barn in the yard, I called for the key thereof, and went to it, and enjoyed myself in such duties as was most fit for that day, and wan to some seriousness in reading, prayer, and meditation; but alas! being too desirous to know my way, I began to be too peremptor with the Lord, and He withdrew and left Satan to buffet me, and to present to my mind as if I were a hanged man. I perceived it to be of Satan, and laboured to plead with the Lord to rebuke the temptation; but yet some tincture of it remained and begat some confusion in my mind. Upon Monday, the 23d, we went on our way to Kinghorn, where we crossed; and so soon as the boat touched at Leith, I went out in haste, and left my herald, and saw him no more.' He arrived in Edinburgh on the 23d March 1683, and on the 30th April his wife arrived there | also. But they had not been there a month when a strict search was made for him, and he was roused from sleep one night by his landlady, who told him that a party of the town guard were coming, and advised him to fly. After a little silence, I said, “No, I was in the hands of the Lord, and would abide there; but if I went to the street, I might fall into the hands of men." And the party coming to the next house, I hearing them, rose up, and putting my sword and wig in a kist, and there being only a thin partition between the party and me, I did see them with the lighted candles they had; but they could not see me in the dark. I did see them search so narrowly, and turn an old woman out of her bed, and then turned out the bedclothes also, and search under them. Then within a little they went off. . . . All this while, my mind was pretty composed; but when they were gone, and I in bed again, I fell a-trembling; that I might see my safety was of the Lord, and I had no strength in myself, but had need of continual supplies from Him.' He now wished to escape to Holland; but the ports in Scotland were so strictly watched, that it was thought best for him to go from an English port. I got some letters of recommendation to some friends at Berwick, to desire them, if it were with their conveniency, to get me some recommendations to Newcastle, that I might take shipping there. Oh! to observe how wonderfully the Lord's ways are linked, through difficulties, tending to mercy and assured loving-kindness to his own! Oh to believe!' 'On Thursday, May 24th, 1683, taking my leave of wife and friends, no doubt with many thoughts of heart, considering the dangers of the time, and had but little money to leave with my wife, and little to take with me, I took my journey to Berwick, not knowing one foot of the way, and not having any that I had acquaintance with there.' However, he fell in with good companions- two honest professors in my own circumstances,'-and on reaching Berwick, soon found friends. There he heard of the capture of Gordon of Earlston, and another Scotch gentleman, on board of a ship at Newcastle, in which they had embarked for Holland; so he was obliged to give up thoughts of escaping by that route, and as he had a friend who lived about two miles out of Berwick, he found it best to remain with him. In the meantime, his wife was suffering great anxiety on his account, being left alone in Edinburgh; and, as his plan for going to Holland had failed, he sent for her to join him, and they remained in the neighbourhood of Berwick for about sixteen months. Here he fills his diary from day to day with very minute records of his spiritual state and experiences. We give the following as a speci |