{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_49643/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_49643","id":"gutenberg_49643","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/49643","summary":null,"tags":["Bible stories, English -- Juvenile fiction","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Teaching & Education","Christian life -- Juvenile fiction","Parent and child -- Juvenile fiction","Siblings -- Juvenile fiction","Tabernacle -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"THE\n\nCHILDREN\u2019S TABERNACLE\n\nOR\n\nHAND-WORK AND HEART-WORK.\n\n\n\n\nA. L. O. E. BOOKS.\n\n_Uniform\u201475 cents each._\n\n\n\n    Claremont Tales.\n    Adopted Son.\n    Young Pilgrim.\n    Giant-Killer, and Sequel.\n    Flora; or, Self-Deception.\n    The Needle and the Rat.\n    Eddie Ellerslie, etc.\n    Precepts and Practice.\n    Christian Mirror.\n    Idols of the Heart.\n    Pride and his Prisoners.\n    Shepherd of Bethlehem.\n    The Poacher.\n    The Chief\u2019s Daughter.\n    Lost Jewel.\n    Stories on the Parables.\n    Ned Manton.\n    War and Peace.\n    Rescued from Egypt.\n    Triumph over Midian.\n    Robber\u2019s Cave.\n    Crown of Success.\n    The Rebel Reclaimed.\n    The Silver Casket.\n    Christian Conquests.\n    Try Again.\n    Cortley Hall.\n    Good for Evil.\n    Christian\u2019s Panoply.\n    Exiles in Babylon.\n    Giles Oldham.\n    Nutshell of Knowledge.\n    Sunday Chaplet.\n    Holiday Chaplet.\n    Children\u2019s Treasury.\n    The Lake of the Woods.\n    Sheer Off.\n    On the Way.\n    House Beautiful.\n    John Carey.\n    A Braid of Cords.\n    Guy Dalesford.\n    Cyril Ashley.\n    Claudia.\n    Lady of Provence.\n    Children\u2019s Tabernacle.\n\n[Illustration: FRONTISPIECE.\n\nChildren\u2019s Tabernacle.]\n\n\n\n\n    THE\n\n    CHILDREN\u2019S TABERNACLE\n\n    OR\n\n    HAND-WORK AND HEART-WORK.\n\n    BY\n\n    A. L. O. E.\n\n    AUTHORESS OF \u201cTHE LOST JEWEL,\u201d \u201cTHE GIANT-KILLER,\u201d\n    \u201cTHE YOUNG PILGRIM,\u201d ETC., ETC.\n\n\n    NEW-YORK:\n    ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS,\n    530 BROADWAY.\n    1875.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nWHILE I was engaged in writing the following brief work, again and\nagain the question arose in my mind, \u201cCan I make subjects so deep\nand difficult really interesting and intelligible to the young? The\nimportance of reading Old Testament types in the light thrown on\nthem by the Gospel cannot, indeed, be overrated, especially in these\nperilous times; but can a child be taught thus to read them?\u201d\n\nThe attempt thus to teach is made in the following pages; and I would\nearnestly request parents and teachers not merely to place the little\nvolume in the hands of children as a prettily-illustrated story-book,\nbut to read it with them, prepared to answer questions and to solve\ndifficulties. Sunday books should supplement, not take the place of,\noral instruction. A writer may give earnest thought and labor to the\nendeavor to make religious subjects interesting to the young; but what\ninfluence has the silent page compared with that of a father expressing\nhis own settled convictions, or that of a mother who has the power to\nspeak at once to the head and the heart?\n\n    A. L. O. E.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                              PAGE\n        I. WANTING WORK                          9\n       II. THE TABERNACLE                       27\n      III. THE CURTAINS                         37\n       IV. PRECIOUS THINGS                      49\n        V. PREPARATION                          59\n       VI. TYPES                                76\n      VII. DRAWN ASIDE                          89\n     VIII. SACRIFICES                          102\n       IX. CONCEALMENT                         113\n        X. DEAD FAITH AND LIVING FAITH         121\n       XI. LEPROSY                             136\n      XII. NAAMAN                              149\n     XIII. THE TWINS                           158\n      XIV. WORK                                173\n       XV. DIFFERENT MOTIVES                   186\n      XVI. THE HIGH-PRIEST                     201\n     XVII. THE BIRTHDAY GIFTS                  215\n    XVIII. THE ARRIVAL                         225\n      XIX. DISAPPOINTMENT                      239\n       XX. CONFESSION                          250\n      XXI. CONCLUSION                          260\n\n\nSHORT STORIES, BY THE SAME AUTHOR.\n\n    THE BEAR                                   271\n    THE TIGER-CUB                              281\n    NOT ONE TOO MANY                           292\n    THE IRON RING                              303\n    THE ILL WIND                               313\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE\n\nCHILDREN\u2019S TABERNACLE.\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nWanting Work.\n\n\n\u201cYOU have no right to spoil my desk, you tiresome, mischievous boy!\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve not spoilt it, Agnes; I\u2019ve only ornamented it by carving that\nlittle pattern all round.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t call that carving, nor ornamenting neither!\u201d cried Agnes, in\nan angry voice; \u201cyou\u2019ve nicked it all round with your knife, you\u2019ve\nspoilt my nice little desk, and I\u2019ll\u201d\u2014 What threat Agnes might have\nadded remains unknown, for her sentence was broken by a violent fit of\ncoughing, whoop after whoop\u2014a fit partly brought on by her passion.\n\n\u201cWhat is all this, my children?\u201d asked Mrs. Temple, drawn into the room\ncalled the study by the noise of the quarrel between her son and her\neldest daughter.\n\nLucius, a boy more than twelve years of age, and therefore a great\ndeal too old to have made so foolish a use of his knife, stood with\na vexed expression on his face, looking at his poor sister, who, in\nthe violence of her distressing cough, had to grasp the table to keep\nherself from falling; Amy, her kind younger sister had run to support\nher; while Dora and little Elsie, who had both the same complaint,\nthough in a milder form than their sister, coughed with her in chorus.\n\nMrs. Temple\u2019s care was first directed to helping her poor sick\ndaughter. Agnes, as well as her three sisters, had caught the\nwhooping-cough from their brother Lucius, who had brought it from\nschool. It was several minutes before the room was quiet enough for\nconversation; but when Agnes, flushed and trembling, with her eyes red\nand tearful from coughing, had sunk on an arm-chair relieved for a\ntime, Mrs. Temple was able to turn her attention to what had been the\ncause of dispute. A rosewood desk lay on the table, and round the upper\nedge of this desk Lucius had carved a little pattern with the large\nsharp knife which he held in his hand.\n\n\u201cI am sure, mamma, that I did not mean to do mischief,\u201d said Lucius,\n\u201cnor to vex Agnes neither. I thought that a carved desk would be\nprettier than a plain one, and so\u201d\u2014\n\n\u201cYou might have tried the carving on your own desk,\u201d said Agnes,\nfaintly. The tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she dared not\nraise her voice lest she should bring on the whooping again.\n\n\u201cSo I might, blockhead that I am; I never thought of that!\u201d exclaimed\nLucius. \u201cBut if you like we will exchange desks now, and then all\nwill be right. Mine is a bigger desk than yours, and has not _many_\nink-stains upon it.\u201d\n\nThe proposal set Dora, Amy, and Elsie laughing, and a smile rose even\nto the lips of Agnes. She saw that Lucius was anxious to make up for\nhis folly; but the big school-desk would have been a poor exchange for\nher own, which was neat and had red velvet lining; while hers, being\nscarcely larger than a work-box, would have been of little service to\nLucius at school.\n\n\u201cO no! I\u2019ll keep my own desk; the carving does not look so very bad,\nafter all,\u201d murmured Agnes, who had an affectionate heart, though by no\nmeans a perfect temper.\n\n\u201cI took no end of pains with it,\u201d said Lucius, \u201cand my knife is so\nsharp that\u201d\u2014\n\n\u201cI would rather that you did not try its edge on my table,\u201d cried his\nmother, barely in time to save her mahogany from being \u201cornamented\u201d as\nwell as the desk.\n\n\u201cStupid that I am! I was not thinking of what I was about!\u201d exclaimed\nLucius, shutting up the knife with a sharp click; \u201cbut the truth is\nI\u2019m so horribly sick of having nothing to do that I must set about\nsomething. I don\u2019t like reading, I\u2019ve enough and too much of that at\nschool; you won\u2019t let me go out, lest the damp should bring back my\ncoughing and whooping\u2014I\u2019ve had enough and too much of that also; I\u2019ve\nonly the girls to play with, for none of my own friends must come near\nthe house because of this tiresome infection; and I shall be taking to\ncutting my own fingers off some day for want of something better to do!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a case of idleness being the mother of mischief,\u201d cried the\nbright-eyed Dora, who was busy embroidering with many-colored silks an\napron for little Elsie\u2019s doll.\n\n\u201cIdleness is indeed very often the mother of mischief,\u201d observed Mrs.\nTemple. \u201cI am afraid that my young people often prove the truth of the\nproverb.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps it was partly idleness that made the children of Israel do so\nvery very wrong when they were wandering about in the desert,\u201d observed\nAmy, glancing up from a book on the subject which she had been reading.\n\n\u201cAh! they were shut up in a wilderness month after month, year after\nyear,\u201d cried Lucius, \u201cafter they had come forth from Egypt with their\nflocks and herds and all kinds of spoil. They had little to do, I\nsuppose, and may have grown just as tired of the sameness of their\nlives as I have of the dulness of mine.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have often thought,\u201d observed Mrs. Temple, who had seated herself\nat the table and taken up her knitting\u2014\u201cI have often thought how\ntenderly the Lord dealt with his people in providing for them pleasant,\ninteresting occupation when He bade them make the Tabernacle, and\ncondescended to give them minute directions how it should be made.\nThere were the various employments of carving, ornamenting, working\nin metal, to engage the attention of the men; while the women had\nspinning, weaving, sewing, and embroidering, with the delightful\nassurance that the offering of their gold and silver, their time and\ntheir toil, was made to the Lord and accepted by Him.\u201d\n\n\u201cI never before thought of the making of the Tabernacle being a\n_pleasure_ to the Israelites,\u201d observed Agnes. \u201cI always wondered at so\nmany chapters in the Bible being filled with descriptions of curtains,\nsilver loops, and gold ornaments, which are of no interest at all to us\nnow.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy child, it is our ignorance which makes us think any part of the\nBible of no interest,\u201d observed Mrs. Temple. \u201cIf you remember the\nreadiness with which, as we know, the Israelites brought their precious\nthings for the Tabernacle, and if you can realize the eager pleasure\nwith which, after the long idleness which had ended in grievous sin,\nmen and women set to work, you will feel that the order to make a\nbeautiful place for worship must have been the opening of a spring of\nnew delight to the children of Israel. They had the Lord\u2019s own pattern\nto work from, so there was no room for disputes about form or style;\nand it was a pattern admirably suited to give pleasant employment to\nnumbers of people, and to women as well as to men. Fancy how listless\nlanguor must have been suddenly changed to animation; the murmurs of\ndiscontented idlers to the hum of cheerful workers; and how vanity and\nfoolish gossip amongst the girls must have been checked while they\ntraced out their rich patterns and plied their needles; and instead of\ndecking their own persons, gave their gold and jewels freely to God!\u201d\n\n[Illustration: THE TABERNACLE AS PITCHED IN THE WILDERNESS.\n\nChildren\u2019s Tabernacle. p. 18.]\n\n\u201cI wish that we\u2019d a Tabernacle to make here,\u201d exclaimed Lucius, whose\nrestless fingers again opened his dangerous plaything.\n\nMrs. Temple raised her hand to her brow: a thought had just occurred to\nher mind. \u201cWe might possibly manage to make a model of the Tabernacle,\u201d\nshe said, after a moment\u2019s reflection.\n\n\u201cAh, yes! I\u2019d do all the carving part\u2014all the hard part,\u201d cried Lucius,\neagerly.\n\n\u201cDo, do let us make a model!\u201d exclaimed his sisters.\n\n\u201cIt would be a long work\u2014a difficult work; I am not sure whether we\ncould succeed in accomplishing it,\u201d said Mrs. Temple. \u201cAnd after all\nour labor, if we did manage to make a fair model, to what use could we\nput it? We had better consider all these matters before we begin what\nmust be a tedious and might prove an unprofitable work.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, a model would be of great use, mamma!\u201d cried Dora. \u201cAt\nChristmas-time, when this tiresome infection is over, and we go to our\naunt at Chester, we could show it to all her friends.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd to her school children\u2014her Ragged-school children!\u201d interrupted\nLucius with animation. \u201cWe\u2019ve let them see our magic-lantern for three\nChristmases running, and if the children are not tired of the slides of\nlions, bears, and peacocks, I\u2019m sure that I am; besides, I smashed half\nthe slides by accident last winter. A model of the Tabernacle would be\nsomething quite new to please the ragged scholars, and Aunt Theodora\nwould draw so many good lessons from it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd could we not do with the model what we did with the\nmagic-lantern,\u201d suggested Dora, \u201cmake of it a little exhibition,\nletting aunt\u2019s friends come and see it for sixpenny tickets, and so\ncollect a little money to help on the Ragged-school?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat would be so nice!\u201d cried Amy.\n\n\u201cThat would be famous!\u201d exclaimed little blue-eyed Elsie, clapping her\nhands.\n\n\u201cLet\u2019s set to work this minute!\u201d said Lucius, and he rapped the table\nwith his knife.\n\nDora threw the doll\u2019s apron into her work-box, eager to have some\nemployment more worthy of the clever fingers of a young lady of more\nthan eleven years of age.\n\nMrs. Temple smiled at the impetuosity of her children. \u201cI must repeat,\nlet us consider first,\u201d she observed. \u201cPossibly not one amongst you has\nany idea of the amount of labor and patience required to complete a\nmodel of the Tabernacle which was made by the children of Israel.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course our Tabernacle would be much smaller than the real one was,\u201d\nremarked Dora.\n\n\u201cSupposing that we made it on the scale of one inch to two cubits, I\nwonder what its length would be?\u201d said Mrs. Temple. \u201cJust bring me the\nBible. Lucius, I will turn over to the description of the Tabernacle,\nwhich we will find in the Book of Exodus.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not know what a cubit is,\u201d said Elsie, while her brother ran for\nthe Bible.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you remember what mamma told us when we were reading about the\nsize of the Ark?\u201d said Agnes. \u201cA cubit is the length of a man\u2019s arm\nfrom the elbow to the end of his middle-finger, just about half of one\nof our yards.\u201d\n\n\u201cEighteen inches, or, as some think twenty,\u201d observed Mrs. Temple, as\nshe opened the Bible which Lucius had just placed on the table before\nher.\n\n\u201cLet\u2019s count a cubit as exactly half a yard, mamma,\u201d said Lucius, \u201cand\nthen one inch\u2019s length in the model would go for a yard\u2019s length in the\nreal Tabernacle. If we reckon thus, how long would our model need to\nbe?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe outer court of the Tabernacle was one hundred cubits long by fifty\nbroad,\u201d replied Mrs. Temple; \u201cthat, in such a model as we propose\nmaking, would be a length of four feet and two inches, by a breadth of\ntwo feet and one inch.\u201d\n\n\u201cJust large enough to stand comfortably on this side table!\u201d cried\nLucius. \u201cThere will be room enough on this table, and I\u2019ll clear it of\nthe books, work-box, and flower-jar in a twinkling.\u201d\n\n\u201cStop a minute, my boy!\u201d laughed his mother, as Lucius appeared to\nbe on the point of sweeping everything off, including the green cloth\ncover; \u201cwe have not even decided on whether this model should be made\nat all; and if we do begin one, months may pass before we shall need\nthat table on which to set it up.\u201d\n\n\u201cO, do, do let us make a model!\u201d again the young Temples cried out.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m ready to undertake every bit of the wood-work,\u201d added Lucius,\nimpatient to use his sharp knife on better work than that of spoiling a\ndesk.\n\n\u201cFirst hear what you will have to undertake,\u201d said his more cautious\nand practical mother. \u201cThe mere outer court has sixty pillars.\u201d\n\n\u201cSixty pillars!\u201d re-echoed the five.\n\n\u201cBesides four more pillars for the Tabernacle itself,\u201d continued the\nlady, \u201cand forty-eight boards of wood, to be covered all over with\ngold.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow large would each board have to be?\u201d asked Lucius, more gravely.\n\n\u201cEach five inches long, and three quarters of an inch broad,\u201d answered\nhis mother.\n\n\u201cAnd quite thin, I suppose,\u201d said the young carpenter, looking\nthoughtfully at the blade of his knife which was to accomplish such a\nlong, difficult piece of work.\n\n\u201cWe could get gold-leaf for the gilding, mamma,\u201d suggested the\nintelligent Dora, \u201cand pasteboard instead of wood; pasteboard would\nlook quite as neat, and need not to be cut up into boards.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it\u2019s not the gilding, nor the cutting up the planks neither,\nwhether they be made of pasteboard or wood, that puzzles me!\u201d cried her\nbrother; \u201cbut think of sixty-four pillars! How on earth could I cut out\nso many slender little rods with my knife!\u201d\n\n\u201cThick wire might be used for the pillars just as well as pasteboard\nfor the planks,\u201d said Agnes; \u201cwhen covered with gold-leaf they would\nlook just the same as if\u201d\u2014 The sentence was interrupted by another fit\nof coughing; it was clear that poor Agnes was at present little fitted\nto join in the conversation.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nII.\n\nThe Tabernacle.\n\n\n\u201cTHERE is a picture of the Tabernacle in your Bible, mamma; that will\nhelp us in arranging what is to be done; and you will decide on which\nof us should do each portion of the work,\u201d said Dora.\n\nMrs. Temple turned over the leaves till she came to the picture.\n\n\u201cHere you see a long open court,\u201d she observed, \u201cenclosed by pillars\nsupporting curtains of fine linen, fastened to them by loops of silver.\nI shall supply the linen for these curtains, and I think that my\ngentle Amy, who sews so nicely, may make them. This work will require\nonly neatness and patience, and my little dove has both.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, mamma! but the silver loops\u2014how could I make them?\u201d suggested Amy,\nwho had very little self-confidence.\n\n\u201cI have a reel of silver thread up-stairs in my box,\u201d said her mother;\n\u201cyou will make the tiny loops for the curtains of that.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I will manage the sixty-four pillars!\u201d cried Lucius; \u201cit was no\nbad notion to make them of wire. But they must be fixed into something\nhard, to keep them upright in their places.\u201d\n\n\u201cI was thinking of that,\u201d said his mother; \u201cwe shall need a wooden\nframe, rather more than four feet by two, to support the model; and\ninto this frame holes must be drilled to receive the sixty-four wires.\u201d\n\n\u201cI must borrow the carpenter\u2019s tools,\u201d observed Lucius; \u201cI can\u2019t do all\nthat with my knife. I see that I have a long, difficult job before me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you give it up?\u201d cried little Elsie, looking up archly into the\nface of her brother.\n\n\u201cNot I!\u201d said the schoolboy proudly. \u201cThe harder the work, the more\nglorious is success!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat are those objects in the court of the Tabernacle?\u201d asked Amy, who\nhad been thoughtfully examining the picture.\n\n\u201cThat large square object with grating on the top, from which smoke is\nrising, is the Altar of burnt-offering,\u201d said the lady. \u201cThrough the\ngrating the ashes of animals that had been slain as sacrifices fell\ninto a cavity below. The projections which you see at the four corners\nare called the horns of the altar, of which you read in various parts\nof the Bible.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: THE ALTAR OF BURNT OFFERING.\n\nChildren\u2019s Tabernacle p. 30.]\n\n\u201cWas it not an Altar of burnt-offering that Elijah made on Mount\nCarmel,\u201d asked Dora, \u201cwhen he cut the dead bullock in pieces and prayed\nto the Lord till fire was sent down from heaven?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d answered her mother, \u201cbut that altar was not like the one in the\npicture. Elijah built his up quickly; it was merely formed of twelve\nstones. The altar made by the Israelites in the desert was framed of\nwood, and covered with brass. It was nearly eight feet square, and\nwas reached, not by steps, but by a sloping bank of earth.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what is that very large vase farther on in the picture?\u201d asked Amy.\n\n\u201cThat is meant for the Brazen Laver, to hold water for the priests\nto wash in. This laver was made of brass which the women of Israel\noffered. Do any of my girls remember what articles had been made before\nof that brass?\u201d\n\nThe party were silent for a few seconds, and then Amy said, with a\nblush on her cheek, \u201cThe mirrors of the women, mamma.\u201d The little girl\nwas inclined to be vain of her looks, and her mother, who had noticed\nhow much of her Amy\u2019s time was foolishly spent before a glass, had\ndrawn her attention, some days before that of which I write, to a fact\nwhich has been thought worthy of mention in the Bible. The women of\nIsrael had the self-denial to give up the brazen mirrors\u2014which were to\nthem what glass mirrors, are to us\u2014to form a laver for the use of the\npriests when engaged in the service of God.\n\nMrs. Temple smiled pleasantly to see that the example of the women in\nthe desert had not been forgotten by her child.\n\n\u201cIs not that kind of large tent which is standing in the court, the\nTabernacle itself?\u201d inquired Dora.\n\n\u201cIt is the Tabernacle,\u201d was the reply.\n\n\u201cWhy is all that smoke coming out of it?\u201d asked little Elsie.\n\n\u201cThat smoke in the picture represents the pillar of cloud which guided\nthe Israelites in their wanderings,\u201d said Mrs. Temple. \u201cFor it is\nwritten in the book of Exodus (xl. 38), \u2018_The cloud of the Lord was\nupon the Tabernacle by day, and fire was upon it by night, in the sight\nof all the house of Israel, throughout all their journeys_.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a very holy place that Tabernacle must have been!\u201d said Amy, in a\nlow tone of voice.\n\n\u201cThere was not only the pillar of cloud as a visible sign of God\u2019s\npresence resting upon it,\u201d observed Mrs. Temple, \u201cbut when Moses had\nfinished making the Tabernacle, a miraculous light, called by the Jews,\n\u2018Shekinah,\u2019 and, in the Bible, \u2018_the glory of the Lord_,\u2019 filled the\nmost holy place.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wish that it were so with holy places now!\u201d exclaimed Agnes. \u201cIf a\ncloud always rested on the roofs of our churches, and a glorious light\nshone inside, people would not be so careless about religion as they\nare now.\u201d\n\n\u201cI fear that no outward sign of God\u2019s presence would long prevent\ncarelessness and sin,\u201d replied Mrs. Temple.\n\n\u201cWhat, mamma, not even a shining glory in church!\u201d cried Amy.\n\n\u201cRemember, my child, all the wonders and terrors of Mount Sinai\u2014the\nthunders and lightnings, the smoke that rose like the smoke of a\nfurnace, the trembling of the earth, and the sound of the trumpet\nexceeding loud! The Israelites quaked with fear; they felt how awful\nis the presence of God; they implored that the Lord might only address\nthem through Moses\u2014\u2018But let not God speak with us lest we die!\u2019 cried\nthe terrified people. And yet, in sight of that very Mount Sinai, in\nsight of the thick cloud resting above it, those Israelites openly\nbroke God\u2019s commandments, and fell into grievous sin! Oh, my beloved\nchildren, the only thing to save us from sinning greatly against God is\nfor our hearts to be the tabernacle in which He vouchsafes to dwell,\nand to have his Holy Spirit shining as the bright light within! Can any\none of you repeat that most beautiful verse from Isaiah (lvii. 15),\nwhich shows us that the Lord deigns to dwell with the lowly in heart?\u201d\n\nOf all Mrs. Temple\u2019s family, Agnes had the best memory; though she had\nneither the quick intelligence of her twin-sister Dora, nor so much of\nthe love of her Heavenly Master which made Amy, though younger than\nherself, more advanced in religious knowledge. Dora had often admired\nthe verse mentioned by her mother, and to the humble-minded little\nAmy it had brought a feeling of thankful joy; but it was Agnes who\nremembered it best by heart, so as to be able now to repeat it without\nmaking a single mistake. \u201c_Thus saith the high and lofty One that\ninhabiteth eternity; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also\nthat is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the\nhumble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones._\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIII.\n\nThe Curtains.\n\n\n\u201cTHE girls will have plenty to do in making the curtains for the\nTabernacle itself,\u201d observed Lucius, who, while his mother and sisters\nhad been conversing, had been engaged in looking over the description\nin the book of Exodus. \u201cWhy, there are four distinct sets of curtains!\nFirst, the undermost, ten curtains of fine-twined linen, with blue,\nand purple, and scarlet, and cherubims of cunning\u2014that must mean\nskilful\u2014work upon them!\u201d\n\n\u201cHow splendid that must be!\u201d exclaimed Elsie.\n\n\u201cThen a covering of goats\u2019-hair curtains above these fine embroidered\nones,\u201d continued Lucius; \u201cthen a third of rams\u2019-skins dyed red; and\nthen, to complete the whole, a covering of badgers\u2019-skin curtains the\noutermost of all.\u201d\n\nThe four young workwomen were somewhat startled at the difficulties\nwhich their brother\u2019s words had raised in their minds. Dora gave a\nvoice to the thoughts of her sisters when she said, with a look of\ndisappointment, \u201cIt will be hard to get rams\u2019-skins dyed red, but I do\nnot know where goats\u2019-hair can be bought in England; and as for the\nbadgers\u2019-skins, I am afraid that it will be quite impossible even for\nmamma to find such a thing, unless it be in the British Museum.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo we must give up making the Tabernacle,\u201d said Amy, with a sigh.\n\n\u201cNay, nay,\u201d cried their smiling mother, \u201cwe must not be so readily\ndiscouraged. Learned men tell us that the Hebrew word translated into\n\u2018badgers\u2019-skins\u2019 in our Bible is one of uncertain meaning, which some\nthink denotes a blue color, and which, if intended for a skin at all,\nis not likely to have been that of a badger. Blue merino for the outer\ncovering, red Turkey-cloth instead of rams\u2019-skins, and mohair curtains\ninstead of goats\u2019-hair, will do, I think, for our model; as well as\nthe pasteboard, wire, and gold and silver thread, which must represent\nmetal and wood.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Lucius, quickly, \u201cthey will do a great deal better than\nthe real materials; for if we could manage to get rams\u2019-skins or\nbadgers\u2019-skins to cut up, such curtains would be a great deal too thick\nand heavy for a little model like ours. Why, our Tabernacle will be\nonly fifteen inches long by five inches in breadth.\u201d\n\nAll the grave little faces brightened up with smiles at this way of\ngetting over what had seemed a very great difficulty. Elsie looked\nespecially pleased. Pressing close to her mother, and laying her little\nhand on Mrs. Temple\u2019s arm in a coaxing way, she cried, \u201cOh, mamma,\ndon\u2019t you think that I could make one set of the curtains? You know\nthat I can hem and run a seam, and don\u2019t make _very_ large stitches.\nMight I not try, dear mamma? I should like to help to make the\nTabernacle.\u201d\n\nIt would have been difficult to the mother to have resisted that\npleading young face, even had Elsie made a less reasonable request.\n\u201cI cannot see why these little fingers should not manage the red\nTurkey-cloth which will stand for the rams\u2019-skins,\u201d replied Mrs.\nTemple, stroking the hand of her child; \u201cthe outermost covering of all\nwill, of course, need finer stitching, and one of the twins will take\nthat and the mohair besides. To make both these sets of curtains will\ntake far less time, and require less skill, than must be given to the\nembroidery on linen in blue, scarlet, and purple, which will adorn the\ninner walls and ceilings of our little model.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo, do let me have the embroidery, it is just the work which I delight\nin,\u201d cried Dora; and she might have added, \u201cexcel in,\u201d for she was\nremarkably clever in making things requiring fancy and skill.\n\nAgnes, her twin, flushed very red, not merely from the straining\nof the cough which had frequently distressed her, but from jealous\nemotion. Agnes had not a lowly heart, and in her heart angry feelings\nwere rising at her sister\u2019s asking that the finest and most ornamental\nportion of the work should be given to her.\n\n\u201cOf course mamma will not let you have the beautiful embroidery to\ndo, Dora, and leave the plain mohair and merino to me, her _eldest_\ndaughter!\u201d exclaimed Agnes, laying a proud stress on the word\n_eldest_, though, there was but an hour\u2019s difference between the ages\nof the twins.\n\n\u201cWhy, Agnes, what nonsense that is!\u201d cried Lucius, bluntly; \u201cyou know,\nas well as I do, that your clumsy fingers can\u2019t so much as hem a silk\nhandkerchief neatly, and how would they manage embroidery in purple,\nscarlet, and blue? Your bad work would spoil the whole thing.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you meddle; you don\u2019t know anything about work!\u201d exclaimed\nAgnes, in a loud, angry tone, which brought on another severe fit of\ncoughing and whooping.\n\nMrs. Temple was grieved at the ill-temper shown by her eldest daughter,\nand all the more so as Agnes was in so suffering a state as to make\nit difficult for a mother to reprove her as she would have done had\nthe girl been in health. The lady had to wait for some time before the\ncough was quieted enough for her gentle voice to be heard, though Amy\nhad quickly brought a glass of water to help in stopping that cough.\nWhen Agnes could breathe freely again, the mother thus addressed her\nfamily circle:\u2014\n\n\u201cI should be vexed indeed, my children, if what I proposed as a\npleasant and profitable occupation for you all, should become a cause\nof strife, an occasion for foolish pride and contention. The Tabernacle\nwas in itself a holy thing, made so by the special appointment and\npresence of the Lord. I would wish the making of its model to be a kind\nof holy employment, one never to be marred by jealousy and pride. The\nprofits of your labor, if there be any, you mean to devote to helping\nthe poor; therefore I hope that we may consider the work as an offering\nto the Lord\u2014a very small offering, it is true, but still one which He\nmay deign to accept, if it be made in a lowly, loving spirit; but if\nselfish, worldly feelings creep in, then good works themselves become\nevil. The Israelites were expressly forbidden to offer any creature in\nwhich there was a blemish or fault, and our offerings are certainly\nblemished and spoilt if we mix with them jealousy and pride.\u201d\n\nAgnes bit her lip and knitted her brow. She was not without both good\nsense and good feeling, but she had not yet obtained the mastery over\nher jealous temper.\n\n\u201cI do not see why Dora should be favored above me,\u201d she murmured.\n\n\u201cDora is not favored above you,\u201d replied the mother, gravely. \u201cThe\nsimple state of the case is this\u2014different talents are given to\ndifferent persons. You have a good memory, Dora a skilful hand. Were\nthe work in question to be the repeating of a chapter by heart, Dora\nwould never expect to be the one chosen to repeat it. Why should pride\nmake you refuse to own that there are some things in which a younger\nsister may excel you?\u201d\n\nAgnes hesitated, and glanced at her mother. The girl\u2019s brow was a\nlittle clouded still, and yet there were signs that her pride was\ngiving way.\n\n\u201cI leave the decision to your own good sense and feeling, my love,\u201d\nsaid Mrs. Temple. \u201cJudge yourself whether, if your desire be to make a\nreally beautiful model worthy of the good object to which we devote\nit, it would be better to place the embroidery part in Dora\u2019s hands or\nyour own.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet Dora do it,\u201d said Agnes, with a little effort, her eyes filling\nwith tears, for it was hard to her, as it is to most of us, to wrestle\ndown struggling pride.\n\nMrs. Temple smiled kindly upon her daughter. \u201cOne of the most precious\nlessons which we can learn,\u201d said the mother, \u201cis, in obedience to the\ncommand of our Lord, to be willing to be last of all, and servant of\nall. The sacrifice of our pride and self-will is more pleasing to our\nMaker than the most costly gifts can be. It is worthy of notice that it\nwas not the _outer_ covering of the Tabernacle, that part which would\nbe seen from every quarter of Israel\u2019s camp, that was most beauteous\nand precious. The richest curtains were those seen far less often,\nthose that had the lowest place in the building. So our Maker cares far\nmore for what is _within_ than for what is _without_, and there is no\nornament so fair in His eyes as that of a meek and quiet spirit.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIV.\n\nPrecious Things.\n\n\n\u201cI DO not think that the Tabernacle was a grand building, after all,\u201d\nobserved Lucius, \u201cthough there is so much written about it in the\nBible. Why, it was only about forty-five feet by fifteen\u2014not so large\nas the chapel at the end of the town, and not for one moment to be\ncompared to the grand cathedral which we all went to see last summer.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is one thing which you perhaps overlook,\u201d said his mother; \u201cwhen\nthe Tabernacle was raised, the Israelites were a nation of wanderers,\nand had no fixed habitation. Their Tabernacle was a large, magnificent\ntent, made to be carried about from place to place by the Levites.\nEvery portion of it was so contrived as to be readily taken to pieces,\nand then put together again. This could not have been done with a\nbuilding of very great size.\u201d\n\n\u201cNobody could carry about the great cathedral, or even the little\nchapel!\u201d cried Elsie; \u201cbut they were never meant to be moved, they are\nfixed quite firm in the ground.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe size of the Tabernacle was indeed not great,\u201d continued Mrs.\nTemple; \u201cbut, besides its being filled with a glory which is never\nbeheld now in any building raised by man, the treasures lavished on\nit must have given to it a very splendid appearance. It has been\ncalculated that the gold and silver used in making the Tabernacle must\nalone have amounted in value to the enormous sum of 185,000 pounds!\u201d\n\nExclamations of surprise were uttered, and Dora remarked\u2014\u201cWhy, that\nwould be enough to pay for the building of forty large churches as\nhandsome as the new one which we all admire so much.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the new church holds ten times as many people as the Tabernacle\ncould,\u201d observed Agnes. \u201cI cannot think how a large nation like the\nIsraelites could find space to meet in such a small place, only about\ntwice the size of this room!\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Tabernacle was never intended to be to the Israelites what a\nchurch is to us,\u201d remarked Mrs. Temple. \u201cIn the warm climate of Arabia\nthe people worshipped in the open air, under the blue canopy of the\nsky; no building to shelter them was required, such as is needful in\nEngland. The men of Israel brought their sacrifices to the court of the\nTabernacle, where, as you already know, the Altar of burnt-offering and\nthe Laver were placed.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: THE GOLDEN CANDLESTICK.\n\nChildren\u2019s Tabernacle. p. 52.]\n\n\u201cBut, mamma, what was inside the Tabernacle itself\u2014what was so very\ncarefully kept under those four sets of curtains?\u201d asked Dora.\n\n\u201cThe Tabernacle was divided into two rooms by a most magnificent\ncurtain of rich embroidery called the \u2018Veil,\u2019\u201d replied Mrs. Temple.\n\u201cThe outer room, which was double the size of the inner, was named\nthe \u2018Holy,\u2019 or \u2018Sanctuary.\u2019 In this outer room were kept the splendid\ngolden Candlestick with its seven branches, each supporting a lamp\nwhich burned all through the night, and the Table of Showbread, on\nwhich twelve cakes of unleavened bread were constantly kept\u2014the supply\nbeing changed on every Sabbath.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! I remember, it was that show-bread which was given to David when\nhe was hungry,\u201d said Lucius, \u201cthough it was meant to be eaten only by\npriests.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat other things were in the outer part of the Tabernacle?\u201d asked\nAgnes.\n\n\u201cThere was the Altar of Incense, my love, upon which sweet perfume was\ndaily burned, so that the room was filled with fragrance.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have told us, mamma, what was in the first part of the beautiful\nTabernacle; but what was in the very innermost part, the little room\nbeyond the Veil?\u201d asked Amy.\n\n\u201cThat little room, about fifteen feet square, was called the \u2018Holy of\nHolies,\u2019 and contained the most precious object of all\u2014the special\nsymbol of the presence of the Most High. That object was the Ark,\nwith its cover of pure gold which was called the \u2018Mercy-seat,\u2019 and\non which were figures of cherubim, wrought also in gold, with wings\noutstretched. Over this Mercy-seat, and between the golden cherubim\nrested the wondrous glory which showed that God was with his people.\nDavid, doubtless, referred to this when he wrote in the eighteenth\nPsalm, \u2018_Thou that dwellest between the cherubims, shine forth!_\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd were not precious things laid up in the Ark?\u201d inquired Agnes.\n\u201cWere not the tables of stone on which the Commandments were written\nput into it?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the Pot of Manna, kept to remind the people how their fathers were\nfed in the desert?\u201d said Dora.\n\n\u201cAnd the wonderful rod of Aaron, that budded, and blossomed, and bore\nfruit; was not that also in the Ark?\u201d asked Lucius.\n\n\u201cAll these most precious and holy things were laid up in the Ark (or as\nsome think in front of the Ark), beneath the golden cherubim,\u201d replied\nMrs. Temple.\n\n\u201cOh, I should have liked above all things to have seen them!\u201d exclaimed\nlittle Elsie. \u201cI should have liked to have lifted up the splendid\ncurtain-veil, and to have gone into the Holy of holies\u2014if the light\nhad not been too dazzling bright\u2014and have looked upon all those\nprecious things! Most of all, I\u2019d have liked to see that wonderful Rod\nof Aaron, if it was the very very same rod that had once been turned\ninto a serpent.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: THE HOLY PLACE AND THE MOST HOLY PLACE.\n\nChildren\u2019s Tabernacle. p. 56.]\n\n\u201cAh, my child, none of us would have dared to have lifted that Veil\nor to have placed a foot within the Holy of holies!\u201d exclaimed Mrs.\nTemple. \u201cNo mortal was ever suffered to enter that place, most sacred\nof all, except the High Priest, and that but on one day of the year\u2014the\nDay of Atonement. Aaron himself, the first High Priest, with trembling\nawe must have lifted the Veil, and approached the Mercy-seat over which\nthe cherubims spread their wings of gold!\u201d\n\nMrs. Temple spoke in so solemn a tone that the children felt that\nthe subject was very sacred, and none of them spoke for several\nmoments. Then Lucius observed\u2014\u201cThere is now no place on earth into\nwhich no one dare enter, like the Holy of holies in the Tabernacle of\nold.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, my son, because the Veil has been rent in twain, and the Lord\nChrist, our great High Priest, has opened a free way for all believers,\neven into the Holy of holies where God dwells in glory for ever!\u201d said\nMrs. Temple, with even greater reverence in her manner, and clasping\nher hands as she spoke.\n\n\u201cMamma, I cannot understand you!\u201d cried Amy.\n\n\u201cThese are the deep things of God, my love, and it is very difficult\nto explain their meaning to children. The Tabernacle and the things\nwithin it were types, or as we may call them, pictures of heavenly\nmysteries, revealed to us by the Gospel. But we will not enter now upon\nthese difficult subjects. I think that you know a little about the\nappearance of the Tabernacle of which you are anxious to make a model,\nand also of what was contained within it. To understand the meaning of\nthat holy place, and of its contents, will require much earnest thought\nand attention. We may perhaps converse a little about it to-morrow,\nwhich is Sunday. You will have abundance of time, as the fear of giving\ninfection to others obliges me to keep you from going to church.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nV.\n\nPreparation.\n\n\n\u201cI WISH that to-morrow were any day but Sunday!\u201d exclaimed Lucius.\n\u201cJust when one is setting about a long work, eager to measure and to\nmake, to cut and to clip, it is vexatious to have to stop in the middle\nof business, to shove away knife, ruler, pencil, pasteboard, and all,\ninto a drawer for the next twenty-four hours!\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps it would be better not to begin the work at all until Monday,\u201d\nmildly suggested his mother.\n\n\u201cO no, we\u2019ve all the Saturday afternoon, let\u2019s set to making our model\nat once!\u201d exclaimed Lucius.\n\n\u201cPlease, please, don\u2019t make us put off!\u201d cried Dora and Elsie.\n\nMrs. Temple was a very indulgent mother, and was inclined to be all\nthe more so as every one of her children was either suffering from\nwhooping-cough or just recovering from its effects. Their mother felt\nsorry at the necessity for shutting out her family from many of their\nusual occupations and pleasures, and even from the privilege of going\nto church. The lady did not, therefore, in the least press the subject\nof delay, but offered, as soon as early dinner should be over, to go\nand search in her drawers and boxes for such materials as she might\nthink suitable for the model of the Tabernacle, which her children\nwere so eager to make. The dinner-bell sounded while Mrs. Temple was\nspeaking, and the family went together to the room in which they took\nall their meals, and gathered round the table which was spread with a\nplentiful, though plain repast.\n\nWhile the young Temples are engaged with their dinner, let me introduce\nthem a little more individually to my reader. There, at the bottom of\nthe table, is Lucius, a sunburnt, pleasant-looking schoolboy, with a\nmass of brown, half-curly locks brushed back from his forehead. He\nhas quick eyes and restless hands, which are seldom perfectly still,\neven if they have no better occupation than that of tying and untying\na morsel of string; but they are now busily plying a large knife and\nfork, for Lucius is a skilful carver, and the joint of mutton is placed\nbefore him, from which to help all the party.\n\nThe pale girl seated on the right of Lucius, with eyes weak and\nreddened by the effect of her cough, is Agnes, the elder of the twins.\nHer brow is furrowed, perhaps from the same cause, perhaps because she\nis more irritable in temper than her brother and sisters. But Agnes\nis a conscientious girl, one who thinks much of duty: and we may hope\nthat \u201cprayer and pains,\u201d which it has been well said can do anything,\nwill give her the mastery over faults against which she is trying to\nstruggle.\n\nOpposite to Agnes sits Dora, who, though her twin, is not much like\nher, being a good deal taller, prettier, and more animated than she.\nDora is a much greater favorite with Lucius and the younger girls\nthan the elder twin, from being gay, obliging, and clever. Agnes is\nperfectly aware that such is the case, and has to pray and strive\nagainst the sin of jealousy, which is too ready to creep into her heart\nand poison all her enjoyments.\n\nOn either side of Mrs. Temple are her two younger daughters, Amy and\nElsie. The former, with soft brown eyes and long flaxen hair tied with\nblue ribbons, is strikingly like her mother, who has, at least so\nthink her children, the sweetest face in the world. Amy has never been\nknown to quarrel or utter an angry word, and is always ready to give\nhelp to any one who needs it. It is no wonder that so gentle a girl\nis beloved. But Amy knows herself to be by no means faultless, and is\nmuch, on her guard against the silly vanity which a mother\u2019s watchful\neye has found out to be lurking in the mind of her dear little girl.\n\nElsie is a merry blue-eyed child, full of life and intelligence,\nforward\u2014rather too forward for her age. She has for six years held the\nplace of baby in the home of her widowed mother, and her family are\nrather disposed to indulge her as if she were a baby still. She enters\nwith animation into the amusements of the elder children, and is by no\nmeans disposed to be seen and not heard, as Lucius often laughingly\ntells her that such little people should be.\n\nThe conversation during dinner was almost entirely on the subject of\nthe model, and flowed on pleasantly enough, except when interrupted by\ncoughing; but all the children were glad when meal-time was over, and\ntheir mother, with Amy and Elsie skipping before her, went off to hunt\nover her little stores for such materials as might be found useful.\nLucius employed the time of their absence in exploring the lumber-room\nfor tops of old boxes or other bits of wood that might, when fastened\ntogether, do for the ground-frame of the model, into which the gilded\npillars might be fixed. Dora, with pencil and paper, busied herself\nin trying to make an embroidery pattern, introducing the figures of\ncherubim. Agnes, who was too weak for much exertion, and who took\nless keen interest in the work than did her sisters, lay on the sofa\nreading a book, until the return of Amy and Elsie, each of whom carried\nsome little treasure in her hands.\n\n\u201cLook, Agnes, look at these shining reels of gold and silver thread!\u201d\nexclaimed the youngest child with eager delight.\n\n\u201cGold thread\u2014ah! that\u2019s just what I want!\u201d cried Dora, throwing down\nher pencil.\n\n\u201cAnd here is mamma\u2019s book of gold leaf; there is a little gold sheet\nbetween every one of the pages,\u201d continued Elsie. \u201cBut oh! it is so\nthin, so very thin, one dare not breathe near, or the gold would all\nfly away!\u201d\n\n\u201cI thought that gold was a very heavy metal,\u201d observed Agnes, looking\nup from her book.\n\n\u201cBut it is beaten out into such extreme fineness that a bit of gold\nno larger than a pea would gild all these,\u201d said Lucius, who had just\nentered the room with his arms full of pieces of wood.\n\n\u201cSee, Agnes, what we have brought for you!\u201d cried Amy. \u201cHere is\na beautiful piece of blue merino for the outer curtains (the\nbadgers\u2019-skin cover, you know), and blue silk with which to sew it; and\nhere is another piece of mohair for the goats\u2019-skin cover, so you are\nsupplied directly with everything that you need; is not that nice?\u201d\n\nAgnes did not look so much delighted as her sister expected that she\nwould; perhaps because she was scarcely well enough to take much\npleasure in sewing; perhaps because she had still a lingering feeling\nof mortification at not having been trusted with the embroidery part of\nthe work.\n\n\u201cI hope that you have brought me the fine linen for the beautiful inner\ncurtains, and the veil for the Holy of holies,\u201d cried Dora.\n\n\u201cNo, mamma cannot find any linen fine enough, unless she were to tear\nup her handkerchiefs, and that would be a pity,\u201d said Amy. \u201cBut mamma\nhas promised to buy some linen both for your curtains and for mine that\nare, you know, to hang all round the open court of the Tabernacle.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is very tiresome to have to stop at the beginning for want of fine\nlinen!\u201d exclaimed Dora. \u201cI hope that mamma will go out and buy us\nplenty at once.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! Dora, you know that mamma owned this morning that she felt very\ntired,\u201d said Amy, a little reproachfully; \u201cand the shops are a good way\noff; it is not as if we lived in the town.\u201d\n\n\u201cBesides, it is raining,\u201d observed Elsie, who was looking out of the\nwindow.\n\n\u201cIt is merely a little drizzle, that would not hurt a fly!\u201d exclaimed\nDora. \u201cMamma never minds a few tiny drops when she puts on her\nwaterproof cloak.\u201d\n\n\u201cMamma never minds anything that has only to do with her own comfort,\u201d\nobserved Amy.\n\n\u201cSo there is more need that we should mind for her,\u201d said Agnes.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sure that I wish that I could go to the shops myself without\ntroubling, any one!\u201d exclaimed the impatient Dora. \u201cIf it were not\nfor this stupid, tiresome infection, I\u2019d get Lucius to go with me this\nminute, and would we not return laden with linen, pasteboard, and all\nsorts of things! But mamma\u2019s fear of setting other people coughing and\nwhooping makes her keep us shut up here in prison.\u201d\n\n\u201cMamma is quite right!\u201d exclaimed Lucius. \u201cI say so, though I hate more\nthan you do being boxed up here in the house.\u201d\n\n\u201cMamma is quite right,\u201d re-echoed poor Agnes, as soon as she recovered\nvoice after another violent fit of coughing, which almost choked her.\n\u201cI should not like to give any one else such a dreadful complaint as\nthis.\u201d\n\nMrs. Temple now entered the room, with several things in her hand. \u201cI\nhave found a nice bit of red Turkey cloth,\u201d said she, \u201cso my little\nElsie will be able to set to work on her curtains at once.\u201d\n\nThe child clapped her hands with pleasure, and then scampered off for\nher little Tunbridge-ware work-box.\n\n\u201cI hope that you have found the linen too, mamma,\u201d cried Dora; \u201cI am\nin a hurry for it, a _very great_ hurry,\u201d she added, regardless of an\nindignant look from Agnes, and a pleading one from Amy.\n\n\u201cI am sorry that I have no suitable linen,\u201d replied the lady, \u201cbut I\nintend to go out and buy some.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot to-day, not now, it is raining; you are tired,\u201d cried several\nvoices; that of Dora was, however, not heard amongst them.\n\n\u201cI have here some pasteboard, though not sufficient for our model,\nand a bottle of strong gum which will be most useful,\u201d said the lady,\nplacing on the table what she had brought; \u201cbut gilt paper will be\nneeded as well as gold leaf, and of it I have none; I must procure\nthat, and some more pasteboard for my dear boy.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd plenty of wire, cut into five-inch lengths for the pillars,\u201d added\nLucius.\n\n\u201cAnd linen for Amy and me,\u201d joined in Dora.\n\n\u201cBut please buy nothing till Monday,\u201d said Agnes; \u201cthe work can wait\nquite well for a couple of days.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, do wait till Monday,\u201d cried the other children; Dora again\nbeing the only exception.\n\nDora\u2019s selfishness was marring her offering, as Agnes\u2019s pride had\nblemished hers. How difficult it is even in the most innocent pleasure,\neven in the most holy occupation, to keep away every stain of sin! Ever\nsince the sad time when evil entered the beautiful garden of Eden, and\nAdam and Eve ate of the fruit which God had forbidden them to taste,\npride, selfishness, and unholiness have been natural to the human\nheart. Even when we most earnestly try to do what we think good works,\nhow much we need to be on our guard lest sin creep in to spoil all!\n\nDora, though silent, showed so plainly by her looks her extreme\nimpatience to be supplied at once with the materials for which she\ncould have so easily waited that her gentle mother made up her mind to\ngratify the wish of her daughter. Mrs. Temple put on her waterproof\ncloak, and, tired as she was, went forth on a shopping expedition. It\nvexed the children to see that the clouds grew darker and the shower\nfell more heavily not long after their mother had quitted the house.\n\n\u201cIf mamma catches cold or has pain in her face it is all Dora\u2019s fault!\u201d\nexclaimed Lucius.\n\n\u201cIt was so selfish\u2014so silly not to wait,\u201d observed Agnes; \u201cjust see how\nthe rain is pouring!\u201d\n\n\u201cI love mamma as much as any of you do!\u201d cried Dora, her heart swelling\nwith vexation, so that she could hardly refrain from tears.\n\n\u201cYou love yourself better, that\u2019s all,\u201d remarked Lucius; and his words\nwere more true than polite.\n\nMrs. Temple returned home very much tired and rather wet,\nnotwithstanding her umbrella and waterproof cloak. And Dora was,\nafter all, disappointed of her wish to have the linen and begin her\nembroidery work directly. Mrs. Temple had found it difficult to carry\nhome parcels when she had an umbrella to hold up on a windy day, and\nhad also feared that goods might get damp if taken through driving\nrain. The wire, pasteboard, gold-paper, and linen were to be sent home\nin the evening, and the longed-for parcel did not appear until it was\ntime for the twins to follow their younger sisters to bed.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nVI.\n\nTypes.\n\n\n    \u201cThis is the day when Christ arose,\n       So early from the dead;\n     And shall I still my eyelids close\n       And waste my hours in bed!\n\n    \u201cThis is the day when Jesus broke\n       The chains of death and hell;\n     And shall I still wear Satan\u2019s yoke\n       And love my sins so well!\u201d\n\n\nTHIS well-known hymn was on Amy\u2019s mind when she awoke on the following\nday, and it rose from her heart like the sweet incense burnt every\nmorning in the Tabernacle of Israel. But Dora\u2019s thoughts on waking,\nand for some time afterwards, might be summed up in the words\u2014\u201cOh,\nI wish that this day were not Sunday! How tiresome it is, when my\nbeautiful pattern is all ready, not to be able to try it!\u201d\n\n[Illustration: THE ALTAR OF INCENSE.\n\nChildren\u2019s Tabernacle. chap. 6.]\n\nMrs. Temple did not appear to be much the worse for her shopping in the\nrain. Her children knew nothing of the aching in her limbs and the pain\nin her face which she felt, as she bore both quietly and went about her\nduties as usual. Dora did not trouble herself even to ask if her mother\nwere well. It was not that Dora did not love her kind parent, but at\nthat time the mind of the little girl was completely taken up by her\nembroidery in scarlet, purple, and blue.\n\nAs the children might not go to church, Mrs. Temple read and prayed\nwith them at home, suffering none but Lucius to help her, and letting\nhim read but little, for fear of bringing back his cough.\n\nAll through the time of prayers, though Dora knelt like the rest of\nthe children, and was as quiet and looked almost as attentive as any,\nher needlework was running in her mind. If she thought of the happy\ncherubim, it was not of their crying \u201cHoly, holy, holy!\u201d in heaven, but\nof the forms of their faces and wings, and how she could best imitate\nsuch with her needle.\n\nI will not say that the other children thought about the Tabernacle\nonly as a holy thing described in the Bible, from which religious\nlessons could be learnt,\u2014little plans for sewing, measuring, or making\nthe model would sometimes intrude, even at prayer-time; but Lucius had\nresolutely locked up his knife, and he and three of his sisters at\nleast tried to give full attention to what their mother was speaking\nwhen she read and explained the Word of God.\n\nMrs. Temple purposely chose the ninth chapter of the Epistle to\nthe Hebrews, a very difficult chapter to the young, but one likely\nspecially to interest her family at a time when the subject of the\nTabernacle in the wilderness was uppermost in the minds of all. It will\nbe noticed that Dora did not join at all in the conversation which\nfollowed the reading.\n\n\u201cMamma, that chapter comes nearly at the end of the Bible, and is about\nour Lord and his death,\u201d observed Lucius; \u201cand yet it tells us about\nthe Tabernacle, and its ark, and the high priest going into the Holy\nof holies. Now, what could the Tabernacle in the desert have do with\nour Lord and His dying,\u2014that Tabernacle which was made nearly fifteen\nhundred years before the birth of Christ, and which was no longer of\nany use after Solomon\u2019s temple was built?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Tabernacle, the ark, the high priest, the sacrifices were all\nTYPES or figures of greater things to come,\u201d replied Mrs. Temple.\n\u201cThere was a secret meaning in them all, referring to our Lord, His\nwork, and His death, and the glorious heaven which He was to open to\nall believers.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know what a type is,\u201d said Elsie.\n\n\u201cIt is not clear to me either,\u201d observed Amy.\n\n\u201cUnless we quite understand what a type means, we shall lose much of\nthe lesson conveyed by the wanderings of the children of Israel, and\nthe long account of the Tabernacle, what was in it, and what was done\nthere, which we find in the books of Moses,\u201d remarked Mrs. Temple.\n\n\u201cIt always seemed to me as if that Tabernacle were quite a thing of the\npast,\u201d said Agnes, \u201cand that it belonged only to the Israelites of old.\nI never could make out why Christian people in England, thousands of\nyears after the Tabernacle had quite disappeared, should care to know\nanything about it, the ark, or the altar.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you say that all these things were types,\u201d observed Amy. \u201cNow,\nwhat is a type, dear mamma?\u201d\n\n\u201cA kind of shadow or picture of something usually greater than\nitself,\u201d replied Mrs. Temple.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t understand,\u201d said Elsie, raising her blue eyes gravely to the\nface of her mother.\n\n\u201cYou know, my love, that before you came to live in this house, when\nnone of the family but myself had seen it, you still had some little\nknowledge of what it was like.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, mamma, for you brought us little pictures of the house, both of\nthe back and the front,\u201d said Agnes.\n\n\u201cWe knew that it was a pretty white house, and had a little tower on\none side, and that trees were growing in front, and creepers all up\nit!\u201d cried Elsie.\n\n\u201cNow, I might have described the place to you in writing, but you would\nnot have known its appearance as well as you did from the pictures,\u201d\nobserved Mrs. Temple.\n\n\u201cNo, from a mere description I should not have been able to find out\nthe house directly as I did when I walked alone from the station,\u201d\ncried Lucius. \u201cThere are several white houses near this, but the\nremembrance of the pictures made me know in a moment which was the\nright one.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, my children, just what a picture is to the object which it\nrepresents, so is a type to its antitype; that word means the real\nthing of which it is a likeness,\u201d observed Mrs. Temple.\n\n\u201cI am afraid that I am very stupid in not making out what you mean at\nonce, dear mamma,\u201d said Amy; \u201cbut if you would explain just one type in\nthe Bible, I think that I might understand better.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us take, then, the innermost part of the Tabernacle, the Holy of\nholies,\u201d replied Mrs. Temple. \u201cIt was a very beautiful place, full of\nthe glory of God, into which no objects were allowed to be but such\nas were precious and pure; there was the mercy-seat like a throne,\nand there were the bright cherubim spreading their golden wings. Now,\nmy children, if we compare small things to great things, cannot you\nof yourselves find out of what this Holy of holies was a picture or a\ntype?\u201d\n\n\u201cA type of heaven!\u201d exclaimed several voices at once; but Amy looked\ndistressed, and murmured softly, \u201cI hope _not_ a type of heaven.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd why not?\u201d asked Lucius, quickly.\n\n\u201cBecause no one was ever allowed to go into the Holy of holies save\none man, and he only once in the year,\u201d replied Amy, sadly.\n\n\u201cAnd that _not without blood_,\u201d said Lucius, pointing to the seventh\nverse of the chapter which his mother had just been reading.\n\n\u201cGo on reading, Lucius,\u201d said his parent, and Lucius, as desired, went\non. \u201c_Not without blood, which he offered for himself and for the\nerrors of the people, the Holy Ghost thus signifying that the way into\nthe holiest of all was not yet made manifest._\u201d\n\n\u201cOr, in simpler words,\u201d said Mrs. Temple, \u201cthat the way into heaven\nwas not yet made plain. When Christ, our great High Priest, had gone\ninto heaven, _neither by the blood, of goats and calves, but by His own\nblood He entered once into the holy place, having obtained eternal\nredemption for us._\u201d\n\n\u201cThen, mother, the high priest must have been a TYPE of the Lord Jesus\nChrist!\u201d exclaimed Lucius.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d interrupted Agnes, \u201cthe sacrifice was the type, the sacrifice\nwhose blood had been shed.\u201d\n\n\u201cBoth high priest and sacrifice were types of our blessed Saviour,\u201d\nreplied Mrs. Temple. \u201cThe Lord was the victim offered, and He was also\nthe high priest who made the offering, for He laid down His life of\nHimself, since no man had power to take it from the Almighty Son of the\nMost High.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas there any particular meaning in the veil of the Temple being rent\nin twain from the top to the bottom, as soon as our Lord died on the\ncross?\u201d inquired Agnes, who had been listening with serious attention.\n\n\u201cWe cannot doubt it,\u201d answered her mother. \u201cThe Temple was the far\nlarger, more substantial building which took the place[A] of the\nTabernacle of the wandering children of Israel; it, too, had its veil\nof rich work to shut out from mortal view the Holy of holies. But as\nsoon as the One great Sacrifice had been offered on the cross, when the\ndying Lord could cry out \u2018IT IS FINISHED,\u2019 then followed the rending\nasunder of the hiding veil, as a sign and type that all the Lord\u2019s\npeople, through His precious blood, might freely enter heaven, the\nreal Holy of holies, and appear without dread of meeting His wrath in\nthe presence of God the Father.\u201d\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[A] The Temple standing at the time of our Lord\u2019s death was not\nSolomon\u2019s, which had been burnt more than six hundred years before.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nVII.\n\nDrawn Aside.\n\n\nTHE subject of the preceding conversation had been so exceedingly\nsolemn that even little Elsie had a grave look of awe on her round rosy\nface, though she could understand but little of the great mysteries\nof which her mother had been speaking. Elsie could only gather that a\ntype was like a picture of something much greater and more wondrous\nthan itself, and said in her simple, childish way, \u201cIs not a type like\nyour very tiny photo, mamma, so little that we could not make out that\nthere was any picture at all till we held it up to the light, and then\nwe could see the Queen\u2019s great palace quite plain?\u201d\n\n\u201cElsie has given us a type of a type!\u201d cried Lucius, clapping his\nlittle sister on the shoulder.\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean by that?\u201d asked Agnes.\n\nLucius was puzzled to explain his own meaning, which was perhaps not\nvery clear to himself, so his mother came to his help.\n\n\u201cElsie\u2019s very minute photograph is not a bad illustration of what Bible\ntypes are,\u201d remarked Mrs. Temple. \u201cThey look small, and might almost\nescape notice, until the eye of faith sees them in the clear light of\nGod\u2019s Word, and then what seemed little more than a speck, may be\nfound to be a likeness of something grander far than a royal palace.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt would be interesting to find out some other Bible types,\u201d observed\nAgnes.\n\n\u201cI was just going to propose that while I attend afternoon service, you\nshould all occupy the time of my absence in each finding a type, which\nwe can talk over in the evening,\u201d said Mrs. Temple.\n\n\u201cI should like that!\u201d cried Lucius; \u201cI am glad of anything to make the\nafternoon less dull; for I know that as it is damp to-day we shall all\nhave to keep within bounds,\u201d he added, Agnes having just begun a fit of\ncoughing.\n\n\u201cI should like to find a Bible type if I could, but I\u2019m afraid that I\nam too stupid,\u201d said Amy.\n\n\u201cYou and me, we\u2019ll try together,\u201d cried Elsie, laying her plump\ndimpled hand on that of her sister.\n\n\u201cAh! you think that union is strength, Pussie!\u201d cried Lucius; \u201cand that\nyou two youngest of the party will together be a match for any one of\nthe rest.\u201d\n\nLittle Elsie\u2019s brain had now been quite long enough on the stretch,\nand after jumping upon her mother\u2019s knee to give her \u201ca good tight\nkiss,\u201d the child ran off to play with her Noah\u2019s Ark. The family then\ndispersed to various parts of the house, soon to reassemble at the\ncheerful sound of the dinner-bell.\n\nAfter Mrs. Temple had started for church, Lucius, Agnes and Amy took\nup their Bibles to search in them for types, while little Elsie amused\nherself with a book of Scripture pictures. Dora went to the room\ncalled the study, in which the children usually learned their lessons\nin the morning, and amused themselves in the evening, and in which they\nkept their workboxes and desks, and most of their books. Dora found\nno one in the study, and sauntered up to the side table, covered with\ngreen cloth, on which stood her neat little workbox.\n\n\u201cOf course I am not going to do one stitch of my embroidery to-day,\nbecause this is Sunday,\u201d said Dora to herself. \u201cBut there can be no\nharm in just looking at my pretty pattern, and seeing whether it is\nlikely to do for the inner curtains and veil.\u201d\n\nDora opened the box, and took out the pattern which lay on the\nneatly-folded piece of linen which her mother had given to her just\nbefore the twins had gone up-stairs to bed. Dora admired her own\npattern, which was realty drawn out with some skill, but she saw that\nit was not quite perfect. Her pencil lay close at hand; Dora could not,\nor did not, resist the temptation to put in a few touches to this and\nthat part of the drawing.\n\n\u201cI wonder how I should arrange the colors,\u201d thought Dora; \u201cI wish that\nI had more scarlet in my reel, and I think that my blue skein is too\ndark; Agnes has some sky-blue sewing silk, I know. Perhaps that would\nbe better, or both shades might have a pretty effect, mixed with the\nscarlet and purple.\u201d\n\nDora took out her reels and skeins, and placed them beside her pattern,\nand tried to imagine the effect of the different combination of color.\nWould it be well for the cherubim to be worked in purple or blue, or\nentirely in thread of gold, like their wings? Dora was inclined to\nthink the last plan best, only gold thread is so stiff, and difficult\nto manage.\n\n\u201cI shall never go to rest till I have made up my mind about this,\u201d\nmuttered Dora to herself, \u201cand how can I decide what will be best till\nI try? And why should I not try?\u201d Dora, with her colored silks before\nher, was, like Eve, looking at the forbidden fruit, and listening to\nthe voice of the Tempter, who would persuade her that evil was good.\n\n\u201cThere are some things which even mamma says are quite lawful to be\ndone on Sundays, such as charitable works. Mamma herself dressed the\ncook\u2019s scalded arm upon a Sunday, and put in a stitch or two to keep\nthe bandages firm. _That_ was surely sewing on a Sunday, but then that\nwas a work of charity. Well, but mine is a work of charity, too.\u201d Thus\nDora went on, while the dangerous current of inclination was gradually\ndrifting her on towards breaking in act the Fourth Commandment, which\nshe had all day long been breaking in thought. \u201cOur Tabernacle is to\nbe the model of a holy\u2014a very holy thing, just the kind of a thing\nwhich it is right to think about on Sunday. Then it is to be made for\na very charitable purpose. I am sure that bandaging the cook\u2019s arm is\nno better work than helping a ragged school; I don\u2019t think that it is\nreally as good, for aunt\u2019s poor little pupils are taught to love God\nand read the Bible. No, it surely cannot be wrong to assist such an\nexcellent work on any day in the seven.\u201d\n\nDora unrolled a length of blue silk, took out a needle and threaded\nit. She had almost succeeded in silencing conscience, at least for a\ntime; she had almost persuaded herself that in amusing herself she\nwas helping a holy cause; and that God would not be displeased at her\nbreaking His commandment, because she was going to work for the poor.\nThere is, perhaps, no more dangerous error than to think that the end\njustifies the means\u2014that it is lawful to a Christian to do evil that\ngood may come. Oh, dear young reader! if you ever find yourself trying\nto quiet conscience by the thought that to do a great good you may do\na little harm, start back as if you caught sight of the tail of a\nsnake in your path! Yes, for the serpent who deceived Eve is trying\nto deceive you also. If Dora had been honest and candid with herself,\nshe would have seen, as her fingers busily plied the needle, that she\nwas really working for her own pleasure; that her embroidering a piece\nof linen was an utterly different thing from her mother\u2019s bandaging\na badly-scalded arm, and relieving a sufferer\u2019s pain. To cases of\nnecessity such as that, the Saviour\u2019s words truly applied\u2014\u201cIt is lawful\nto do good on the Sabbath-day;\u201d but there was nothing to justify Dora\nin following her own inclination, and working on the day appointed for\nholy worship and rest.\n\nIf there was really no harm in what she was doing, why was it that Dora\nstarted so when she heard her mother\u2019s voice at the door of the study,\nand why did she so hurriedly thrust linen, pattern, and silks back into\nthe workbox as her gentle parent entered the room?\n\nDora\u2019s back was turned towards the door, so that, from her being\nbetween it and the table, Mrs. Temple could not see the cause of the\nlittle bustling movement which she noticed on coming into the study.\n\n\u201cWhat are you doing, my love?\u201d asked the lady.\n\n\u201cNothing,\u201d answered Dora quickly, as she succeeded in shutting down the\nlid of her workbox. The word was uttered in haste, without reflection;\nbut the instant after it had passed her lips a pang shot through the\nyoung girl\u2019s heart, for she was aware that, perhaps for the first\ntime in her life, she had uttered a downright falsehood. Conscience\ncould be silenced no longer; the second sin into which Dora had been\ndrawn by her fear showed her in a strong light the nature of the first,\ninto which she had been drawn by her love of amusement. If she had not\nbeen doing what was wrong, she would not have been afraid lest her\noccupation should be found out by her tender, indulgent mother.\n\nMrs. Temple never doubted the word of one of her children, but she\ncould not help thinking that the manner of Dora was strange, and she\nwould probably have inquired further into its cause, had she not just\nthen been followed into the study by Lucius. The boy had his Bible in\nhis hand, and a thoughtful, perplexed look on his face, which at once\nfixed the attention of Mrs. Temple. Dora was glad that her mother\u2019s\nattention should be drawn by anything from herself, for otherwise she\ncould not have hidden her confusion. She seated herself on a stool\nby the window, with her face turned away from her parent, and there\nremained a silent listener to the following conversation between Mrs.\nTemple and her son. Whether that conversation was likely to make Dora\u2019s\nconscience easier or not, I leave the reader to judge.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nVIII.\n\nSacrifices.\n\n\n\u201cI HAVE been looking out for a type, mamma, as you wished us to do,\u201d\nsaid Lucius, seating himself on the sofa on which his parent had taken\nher place, and resting his Bible upon her knee. \u201cI am not sure whether\nI may not have heard already from you that Abraham\u2019s sacrificing his\ndear son is a kind of shadow of God\u2019s sacrificing His only Son; at any\nrate, I thought of this as the type which I should choose to speak of\nin the evening.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou could hardly have chosen a more remarkable type, my boy. I believe\nthat Abraham was commanded to sacrifice his son not only to try the\nfond father\u2019s faith and obedience, but also that Isaac ascending Mount\nMoriah with the wood for the burnt-offering on his shoulder, might be\nto the end of time a type of the blessed Saviour bearing the cross on\nwhich He was to suffer on Calvary.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! mother, it is all that suffering and sacrificing that is such a\ndifficulty to me!\u201d exclaimed Lucius. \u201cWhy is so much suffering needed\nat all?\u201d The boy looked earnestly into his mother\u2019s face as he spoke.\n\n\u201cIt is a sad mystery, Lucius; we do not fully understand it; but one\nthing is certain, not only from what we read in the Bible, but from\nwhat we see in the world around us, and that thing is that sin and\nsuffering are bound together, we cannot separate them; suffering is the\nshadow of sin and _must_ follow it; THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH (Rom. vi.\n23).\n\n\u201cBut you have taught us that GOD IS LOVE,\u201d said Lucius, thoughtfully.\n\n\u201cSurely God is love,\u201d replied Mrs. Temple; \u201cGod loves man, but God\nhates sin, which is the greatest enemy of man. It is God\u2019s merciful\nwill that man should be saved _both_ from sin here, and from its most\nterrible punishment hereafter.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Holy of holies is a difficulty to me,\u201d observed Lucius; \u201cwhy\nshould no man, save the high priest, be suffered to go in, or draw near\nthe mercy-seat of God?\u201d\n\n\u201cAsk yourself what lesson this would have taught you had you been one\nof the children of Israel,\u201d said Mrs. Temple. \u201cWhen you beheld the\nTabernacle with the wondrous cloud resting upon it, and gazed through\nthe opening in front on the veil which hid from your eyes the more\ndazzling glory within\u2014that glory which was a sign of the immediate\npresence of God, into which on pain of death you dared not enter\u2014what\nwould have been the thought uppermost in your mind?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe thought that God was terribly holy, and that no human being was\nfit to come near Him,\u201d replied Lucius, gravely.\n\n\u201cBut one man was allowed to draw near,\u201d observed Mrs. Temple.\n\n\u201cOnly the high priest, and that with the blood of a sacrifice,\u201d said\nher son.\n\n\u201cAnd so mankind were taught that there _is_ a way to approach a holy\nGod, but _only one way_; they were taught that sacrifice was needful,\nthat WITHOUT SHEDDING OF BLOOD THERE IS NO REMISSION (forgiveness of\nsin), Heb. ix. 22.\n\n\u201cBut, mother, surely God does not require the blood of bulls and\ngoats!\u201d cried Lucius.\n\nMrs. Temple in reply turned over the leaves of the Bible, till she\nfound the fortieth Psalm, and then read aloud,\n\n\u201c_Burnt-offering and sacrifice hast Thou not required. Then said I, Lo!\nI come; in the volume of the book it is written of Me, I delight to do\nThy will, O my God._\u201d It is the Lord Jesus Christ who says this by the\nmouth of David. The blood of lambs and other creatures was worthless,\nsave as signs and pledges of the precious blood of Christ which\ncleanseth from all sin, (John i. 7,) the blood of Him who is indeed THE\nLAMB OF GOD THAT TAKETH AWAY THE SIN OF THE WORLD (John i. 29).\n\n\u201cIt seems so sad that the Lord, who had done no sin, should have to\nbear all that agony on the cross,\u201d murmured Lucius.\n\n\u201cChrist bore it in our STEAD,\u201d said Mrs. Temple; \u201cHe suffered the\npunishment for sin, that sinners, repenting and believing, might be\nsaved, forgiven, and made happy forever.\u201d\n\n\u201cI still cannot clearly make out the use of sacrifices\u2014I mean of\nanimals,\u201d said Lucius.\n\n\u201cThey taught that one being may suffer instead of another,\u201d replied\nMrs. Temple, speaking slowly, that her son might weigh well every\nword. \u201cWhen an Israelite brought a lamb for sacrifice it was just as\nif he had said, \u2018O holy God, I know that I am a sinner, and that I\ndeserve to suffer for my sin; but in mercy accept the life of this\nlamb _instead of mine_.\u2019 It was to teach this same lesson that Aaron\nthe high priest was commanded to lay his hands on the head of a living\ngoat, and confess over him the sins of all the children of Israel. The\nscape-goat (as it was called), was then sent away into the desert,\nbearing away with him all the sins which had been solemnly confessed\nover him by the high priest of God. With a thankful heart and lightened\nconscience must every faithful Israelite have seen the scape-goat led\naway from the camp. \u2018My sins are taken from me, far as the east is\nfrom the west,\u2019 he might say, \u2018I shall never, never have to bear that\nterrible burden myself.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why have we no scape-goats and no sacrifices now?\u201d asked Lucius;\nwhile Dora silently thought, \u201cWhat a comfort it would be to see all\none\u2019s sins carried far away from us forever!\u201d\n\n\u201cWe need no more such sacrifices now,\u201d replied Mrs. Temple, \u201cbecause\nthe One great Sacrifice which Christ made of Himself on the cross is so\ninfinitely precious, that it is enough to save a world that was lost\nfrom sin. We need no scape-goat now, for when Christ went forth to die,\nHe carried away with Him the burden of the guilt of all His people.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut then, mother, is every one\u2019s sin taken away, is every one sure to\nenter heaven, the real Holy of holies?\u201d asked Lucius. The question was\na very important one, and poor Dora\u2019s heart beat fast as she listened\nto hear what answer her parent would give to the boy.\n\n\u201cNo, my son,\u201d replied Mrs. Temple, \u201cfor not every one has true faith in\nthe Lord and His Sacrifice, that faith which makes us repent of sin,\nbe sorry for sin, confess it and try to forsake it. We know that (two\nonly excepted) all the Israelites above a certain age never reached the\ngood land of Canaan, but all died in the desert. And why was this? It\nwas because they had sinned against God. They might have sacrifices but\nthey had not true faith; they might give up lambs, but they gave not up\nsin; they might have God\u2019s presence in the tabernacle to guide them,\nbut they did not let their conduct be guided by the light of His holy\nWord.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt almost seems to me,\u201d observed Lucius, \u201cas if the Israelites\nwandering about in the desert were types of us\u2014of all who are now\ncalled Christian people.\u201d\n\nMrs. Temple smiled with pleasure to see that her son was beginning\nreally to understand a little of Old Testament teaching by types. \u201cYes,\ndear boy,\u201d she replied, \u201cthe history of the Israelites is just like a\npicture or type of what is now happening to ourselves in our journey\nthrough life towards heaven, our promised Canaan. They were first in\nbondage to cruel Pharaoh; we are born into the world in bondage to sin.\nThe Israelites at the beginning of their journey passed through the Red\nSea; St. Paul shows us that this was a type of Christian baptism (1\nCor. x. 2). I could go on to show you how the history of Israel is full\nof many other interesting types of our own, but you have heard enough\nfor the present. There are just a few most important lessons which I\nwould wish to impress on your mind. They are:\n\n\u201cFirst, that we all are sinners.\n\n\u201cSecondly, that we can only be forgiven and enter heaven through the\nSacrifice of our Lord on the cross.\n\n\u201cThirdly, that His Sacrifice takes away all sin from those who have\ntrue faith in their hearts; that faith whose reality is shown by its\nmaking us repent of and try, by God\u2019s help, to give up our sins.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIX.\n\nConcealment.\n\n\nDORA felt very unhappy. She had broken the holy rest of the Lord\u2019s day;\nshe had repeated prayers without praying, heard God\u2019s Word read without\nattending, had made a vain show of religion; and at last had worked\nand worked hard at her needle, as she might have done on any other day\nof the week. Dora had disobeyed what she knew to be the wishes of her\nmother, and then to hide such disobedience had uttered a lie to deceive\nher! The girl could not conceal from herself that she had done what\nwas wrong\u2014exceedingly wrong; that she had displeased a holy God, whose\neyes are in every place beholding the evil and the good.\n\n\u201cOh, what can I\u2014what ought I to do now!\u201d thought Dora, as slowly and\nsadly she went up to her own little room. Conscience gave an instant\nreply, \u201cRetrace your steps as quickly as you can, own your fault to\nyour mother, and ask forgiveness from God.\u201d But Dora was very unwilling\nto do this; she was inclined to take a kind of half-way course.\n\n\u201cI need not say anything to mamma about what I have done,\u201d thought\nDora. \u201cI will not touch my pretty work any more on Sunday; and\nto-morrow, as soon as I get up, I will unpick every stitch of what I\nhave been sewing to-day. That will be a good punishment for me; yes,\nthat will be the right kind of punishment for breaking the Fourth\nCommandment.\u201d\n\nDora half satisfied her conscience by making this resolution to undo\nwhat ought not to have been done; but the little girl made a grievous\nmistake in supposing that any self-inflicted punishment can take away\nsin. We must go straight to the Lord for forgiveness, and ask it only\nfor the sake of the Lamb of God, who suffered to take away guilt; and\nwhen we have sinned against our fellow-creatures, as well as against\nour Heavenly Father, we must honestly and openly confess to them what\nwe have done, and ask their forgiveness. Dora shrank from doing this;\nshe was extremely unwilling to own to her mother that she had been\nsewing on Sunday.\n\n\u201cPerhaps mamma would take away from me the making of the embroidered\ncurtains altogether,\u201d thought Dora, \u201cand give it to Agnes instead; and\nthen all the family would know the reason, and I should be lowered in\nthe opinion even of little Elsie! Oh, how dreadfully ashamed I should\nfeel, and what a bitter disappointment it would be to see the work in\nthe hands of another, after I have taken such pains to draw out that\nbeautiful pattern! Worst of all, Aunt Theodora would hear of my fault\nwhen we go to be with her at Christmas. She would be sure to ask why I\nhad not embroidered the veil and the curtains, for she thinks that I\nembroider so well. Oh, I could not bear that the aunt whom I love so\nmuch\u2014who loves me so much\u2014should know what I have done! No, no, there\nis no use in speaking about the matter at all; I will punish myself by\nthe tiresome unpicking, and then all will be right.\u201d\n\nWould all be right? Were Dora to punish herself ever so severely, would\nall be right? No, dear reader, no! self-punishment cannot wash away sin.\n\n    \u201cCould my zeal no respite know,\n     Could my tears forever flow,\n     All for sin could not atone,\n     Thou must save, and Thou alone.\u201d\n\nDora was only deceiving herself now, as she had an hour before deceived\nher indulgent mother.\n\nIn the evening, after tea-time, the family assembled again in the\nstudy. Their usual employment on Sunday evenings had been to sing\nhymns with their mother, each in succession choosing a favorite hymn;\nbut the whooping-cough had for weeks past put a stop to all singing,\nand it had cost Mrs. Temple some thought to find a way of making the\nevening Sabbath hour as pleasant to her family as it had usually been.\nThe searching in the Bible for types had been a new kind of occupation,\nand had made the afternoon seem less long to the young prisoners at\nhome than it might otherwise have appeared during the absence of their\nmother at church. The family circle looked a very happy one by the\nlight of the fire round which they gathered; for autumn was beginning,\nthe weather, though not very cold, was damp; and the illness from which\nthe children were recovering made warmth and dryness so desirable,\nthat the fire was always lighted at sunset.\n\n\u201cI like when we sit so cosy together before the blazing fire!\u201d\nexclaimed little blue-eyed Elsie, cuddling close to her mother. \u201cI\nhope that Eliza won\u2019t bring in the candles; no one wants candles to\ntalk by. Agnes, you won\u2019t cough so badly if you put your feet here on\nthe fender; please, Lucius, give the fire a good stir, and make the\nred flames leap up and dance. Are we not a happy party!\u201d she added,\nsqueezing tightly her mother\u2019s hand in both of her own.\n\nSmiling faces gave the reply. There was but one face that wore no\nsmile. Dora sat on the other side of her mother, but the girl had drawn\nher chair a little back from the half-circle before the fire, and\nheld a hand-screen before her face, not really to protect it from the\nscorching blaze, but that it might not be seen by the fire-light. Dora\nwas glad, though not for the same reason as Elsie, that Eliza did not\nbring in the candles.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nX.\n\nDead Faith and Living Faith.\n\n\n\u201cMAMMA, I\u2019ve been trying to find a type; I\u2019ve been looking all through\nmy Bible pictures,\u201d said blue-eyed Elsie.\n\n\u201cAnd did you succeed in finding a type, my darling?\u201d asked Mrs. Temple,\nsmiling at the gravity of the child, whom she thought scarcely likely\nto be able to discover the meaning of the most simple Scripture figure.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know\u2014I\u2019m not sure,\u201d said little Elsie; \u201cbut I\u2019ve found two\npictures\u2014one in the Old Testament and one in the New Testament\u2014and\nthey are rather like each other; so, you know, dear mamma, it seemed as\nif one might be a sort of a type.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what were your pictures about, Elsie, pet?\u201d asked Lucius, stroking\nthe hair of his youngest sister, of whom the schoolboy was very fond.\n\n\u201cOne picture was of Elijah raising the poor widow\u2019s son, and the other\nwas of the Lord\u2019s raising a widow\u2019s son. These were two things like\neach other,\u201d said Elsie; \u201cbut,\u201d she added, shaking her curly head\nthoughtfully, \u201cI can\u2019t tell if there was any type.\u201d\n\n\u201cI daresay that little Elsie is right, and that Elijah _was_ a type of\nthe Lord!\u201d cried Lucius, \u201cfor did they not both fast forty days in the\nwilderness?\u201d\n\n\u201cI thought that Elijah was rather a type of John the Baptist,\u201d observed\nAgnes.\n\n\u201cYes, he was so,\u201d said Mrs. Temple. \u201cOur Lord\u2019s own words show that\nJohn, \u2018the Voice crying in the wilderness,\u2019 came in the spirit and\npower of the prophet Elijah, though John worked no miracle. Yet in the\ntwo instances which your brother and Elsie have noticed, the raising\nof the dead and the forty days\u2019 fast in the desert, Elijah\u2019s history\nshadows forth that of One far greater than himself. Has my dove Amy\nthought of any Scripture type?\u201d said the mother, turning towards her\nyoung daughter.\n\nAmy hesitated a little; she was always distrustful of herself, and in\nthis was a great contrast to Elsie. Mrs. Temple smiled encouragingly\nupon her little girl. \u201cI see that there is something in your head,\u201d\nsaid the mother; \u201ctell us, my love, what you have thought of. If you\nhave made a mistake, I will try to set you right; we are at least\nlikely to gain some increase of Scriptural knowledge by talking over\nsuch subjects as these.\u201d\n\n\u201cI thought at first that I should never find out anything,\u201d said Amy;\n\u201cthough you explained to us so much about types this morning, dear\nmamma, I felt quite puzzled when I tried to make out one for myself.\nAt last a verse from the third chapter of John came into my mind, and\nI wondered whether our Lord Himself taught Nicodemus in it something\nabout a type. Perhaps Nicodemus understood the Lord\u2019s meaning, but I\ncould not understand it\u2014that is to say, not clearly\u2014so I thought that\nI had better ask you about it, mamma.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is the verse?\u201d asked several voices at once.\n\nAmy folded her hands reverentially as she repeated the sacred words\nonce spoken by our blessed Redeemer. Mrs. Temple would never allow\nher children to gabble over carelessly any verse of Scripture.\u2014\u201c\u2018_As\nMoses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man\nbe lifted up, that whosoever believeth Him should not perish, but have\neternal life_,\u2019\u201d (John iii. 14, 15.)\n\n\u201cMost certainly, our Lord spoke then of a most remarkable type,\u201d said\nMrs. Temple. \u201cTo what coming event in his own life did our Saviour\nrefer in the expression \u2018be lifted up\u2019?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo His being lifted up on the cross,\u201d said Amy, in a low tone of voice.\n\n\u201cAnd why was the Son of God lifted up on the dreadful cross?\u201d asked her\nmother.\n\n\u201cThat we\u2014that all who believe in Him shall have eternal life,\u201d replied\nAmy Temple.\n\n\u201cIt was indeed as a type of this great salvation from eternal death\nthat the brazen serpent was lifted up by Moses,\u201d said the lady. \u201cDo you\nremember what had happened to the Israelites to make the raising of the\nbrass serpent needful to save them from destruction brought on by sin?\u201d\n\nAs Amy did not immediately reply to the question, Elsie eagerly put in\nher word.\n\n\u201cYou told us all about it last Sunday, mamma; I remember the story\nquite well. The people had been wicked, very wicked, and so fiery\nserpents came amongst them and bit them; and many\u2014I don\u2019t know how\nmany\u2014Israelites died, because no doctor knew how to cure them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWere those deadly bites a type of sin whose wages are death?\u201d asked\nLucius.\n\n\u201cThey were so, my son,\u201d said his mother. \u201cMan had no way of saving\nthose who had received the deadly wound, so God himself showed Moses a\nway. The Lord bade him lift up on high a serpent of brass, and promised\nthat whoso _looked_ upon it should live.\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot imagine how mere _looking_ could do the least good to a\nperson dying of the poison of a snake-bite,\u201d observed Agnes.\n\n\u201cThe Almighty willed that it should be so,\u201d said Mrs. Temple; \u201cHe\nwilled that the look of faith should bring healing to a sick body, as\nthe look of faith at a crucified Saviour still brings healing to the\nsin-wounded soul. When I read how my Lord says, through the prophet\nIsaiah, \u2018_Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth_\u2019\n(Isaiah xlv. 22), I think of the brazen serpent, and know that I have\nbut to believe in Christ and be saved.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean by the look of faith?\u201d inquired Agnes.\n\n\u201cFaith is simply _believing_,\u201d replied Mrs. Temple. \u201cTo look to Christ\nis to believe that He is able and willing to save us, and that none can\nsave us but He.\u201d\n\nDora, who had chosen, as we know, to sit a little drawn back from\nthe circle, and with a screen in her hand, now dropped the screen\non her lap, and leant forward, so that the red flickering gleam of\nthe fire-light shone on her face as she anxiously asked, \u201cThen are we\nquite, quite safe, sure never to be punished for anything evil that we\nhave done, if only we have faith that the Lord will save us?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, if the faith be _real_, living faith,\u201d replied Mrs. Temple.\n\n\u201cAre there then two kinds of faith?\u201d inquired Lucius.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d answered his mother; \u201cwe read in the Bible of two kinds of faith\nor belief\u2014one dead and one living.\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot understand that at all,\u201d said Amy.\n\n\u201cI will try to explain,\u201d said the lady \u201cand I ask you, my children,\nto give me your full attention, for this is a matter of the greatest\nimportance. You all believe, do you not, that there is an Emperor of\nGermany?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes,\u201d replied the children: and Elsie added with a little nod, \u201cI\nbelieve there is such a man, though I never have seen him.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow does your belief in the existence of the Emperor\u2014that is, your\n_faith_ in it\u2014does it make the smallest difference in your actions, or\nwords, or feelings?\u201d inquired Mrs. Temple.\n\n\u201cNo, why should it?\u201d cried Lucius.\n\n\u201cThe Emperor does not care for us; he knows nothing about us,\u201d said\nElsie.\n\n\u201cThen your faith in the Emperor is a _dead_ faith, it has no effect on\nyour hearts,\u201d observed Mrs. Temple. \u201cAnd this is the kind of faith\nwhich many persons, alas! have in the Lord. They believe in a careless\nsort of way that Christ once lived in the world, and died on the cross,\nbut they believe only with the head, not with the heart. And this is\n_dead_ faith, a kind of faith which never can save us.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what is _living_ faith, then?\u201d asked Amy.\n\n\u201cWhen our belief makes us really love Him who first loved us,\u2014when the\nthought of Christ\u2019s dying for sin makes us hate sin, that cost Him so\ndear, then our faith must be living faith; and thus looking to the Lord\nwe are saved.\u201d\n\nDora sighed and drew her head back again into the shadow. Hers was not\na faith that had kept her from sin\u2014hers was not a faith that made her\nnow obey the whisper of conscience, confess her fault to her mother,\nand make what amends she could for what she had done.\n\n\u201cDepend upon it, that when an Israelite had been cured of his wound by\nlooking at the brazen serpent, he did not go and stroke and play with\nthe fiery reptile that had bitten him,\u201d observed Lucius, who had the\nclearest head amongst the party, and best entered into the meaning of\ntypes.\n\n\u201cNo, he would run away from the horrid creatures, or try to kill them;\nhe would put his foot upon the fiery serpents and crush them\u2014crush\nthem,\u201d cried Elsie, stamping her little foot on the hearthrug, to add\nforce to her words.\n\n\u201cSo every one who has living faith dreads and hates sin, and tries to\ndestroy it,\u201d observed Mrs. Temple. \u201cWe will not carelessly trifle with\nit _if we believe from our hearts_ that our blessed Redeemer suffered\nbecause of our sins.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a very holy thing was that brazen serpent which Moses set up on a\npole!\u201d exclaimed Amy. \u201cDid he not afterwards put it into the ark, that\nthe Israelites might carry it about with them wherever they went, and\ntreasure it as they did the tables of stone on which the Commandments\nwere written?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe do not read of Moses putting the brazen serpent into the ark,\u201d\nreplied Mrs. Temple; \u201cbut the Israelites must have carried it with them\nin their wanderings through the desert, and have taken it into the\nPromised Land, for we read of the brazen serpent being greatly honored\nby the people more than seven hundred years after it was lifted up.\u201d\n(1 Kings xviii. 4.)\n\n\u201cIt was quite right that the Israelites should honor it very, very\nmuch,\u201d cried Elsie, \u201cbecause the brazen serpent had saved so many\npeople from dying.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou mistake, my child,\u201d said her mother. \u201cThe brass image had no power\nin itself to save a single creature from death; it was of no use at all\nbut as a means appointed by God. The brazen serpent was a _type_ of\nsalvation; and when the Jews took to burning incense to the mere type,\nthat is, when they paid to it the honor which is due to God alone, they\nfell into sin.\u201d\n\nThe younger children looked surprised; and Amy murmured, \u201cThen can even\na holy thing lead men to do what is wrong?\u201d\n\n\u201cMen do wrong, exceedingly wrong, when they put anything, however holy\nit may seem in their eyes, in the place of God,\u201d observed Mrs. Temple.\n\u201cWhen good king Hezekiah saw that his people were honoring the brazen\nserpent too much, what do you think that he did?\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps he locked it up, so that no one could get at it,\u201d cried little\nElsie.\n\n\u201cHezekiah took a much stronger measure than locking up the image,\u201d\nsaid her mother. \u201cThe good king broke the brazen serpent into pieces,\nand called it Nehustan, or a piece of brass, to show both by word and\ndeed that the most holy and interesting relic may lead to the sin of\nidolatry, if it draw away our thoughts and our hearts from the Lord who\nalone can give us salvation.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXI.\n\nLeprosy.\n\n\n\u201cAS we seem to be giving in our types youngest by youngest, it is\nDora\u2019s turn now to tell us which she has chosen,\u201d said Lucius.\n\n\u201cAh! Dora will have found out the most interesting type of all, Dora is\nso clever!\u201d cried Elsie, who had great faith in the intelligence of the\nbrighter of the twins.\n\nAll eyes were turned towards Dora as she sat in the shadow, but Dora\u2019s\nown eyes were bent on the hearthrug. She had been so much taken up\non that Sunday, first with her embroidery, then with the conversation\nbetween her mother and Lucius, and the painful struggle in her own\nmind with an upbraiding conscience, that Dora had not even thought of\nlooking out for a type in Scripture.\n\n\u201cWhat have you chosen, Dora?\u201d asked Lucius.\n\n\u201cI have not chosen any type yet, I have not had time,\u201d stammered out\nDora, confused and mortified to find herself behind even little Elsie,\nwho looked astonished at the words of her sister.\n\n\u201cNot time! why, you have had as much time as any of us,\u201d said Agnes.\n\u201cWhat were you doing all the afternoon while mamma was at church?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing particular,\u201d said Dora, with a little confusion. Again a pang\nshot through the heart of the conscious girl for she knew that she was\nagain staining her lips with untruth.\n\n\u201cYou don\u2019t mean to say that you were sitting from two o\u2019clock till\nfive, with your hands before you, and thinking about nothing at all,\u201d\nsaid Lucius.\n\n\u201cPerhaps Dora was reading that interesting book about the poor French\nProtestants,\u201d suggested Amy.\n\nDora did not speak. She was too well pleased, alas! that her family\nshould believe that she had been thus engaged, though she knew that she\nhad not so much as opened the volume in question.\n\n\u201cIt would have been better, my love, for you to have entered into the\noccupation which interests your brothers and sisters,\u201d said Mrs.\nTemple, in a tone of gentle reproof. \u201cEven reading a nice Sunday book\nlike the one Amy mentioned may become a selfish amusement, if it keeps\nus from adding a little to the general pleasure.\u201d\n\n\u201cI never knew Dora take such a reading fit before,\u201d muttered Lucius;\n\u201cshe generally likes to use her fingers more than her head.\u201d\n\nThe remark was a very commonplace one, yet it added to Dora\u2019s\nconfusion. Mrs. Temple, noticing her daughter\u2019s look of annoyance,\nthough she attributed it to a different cause than the true one,\nturned the conversation by asking Agnes whether she had thought of a\nScriptural type.\n\n\u201cYes, mamma,\u201d replied Agnes. \u201cI believe that leprosy is a type of sin,\nand the cure of lepers a type of the cure of sin just as the looking\nup at the brazen serpent was a cure for the deadly bites.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are perfectly right, my dear girl,\u201d said her mother.\n\n\u201cWhat is leprosy?\u201d asked little Elsie\n\n\u201cA dreadful kind of illness,\u201d replied Agnes; and as she seemed\ndisinclined to say more, perhaps from fear of bringing on her cough by\nspeaking, her mother continued the description of this terrible type of\nsin.\n\n\u201cThis frightful malady is still well-known in the East,\u201d said Mrs.\nTemple. \u201cYour uncle, who came lately from India, has told me that he\nhas seen many poor lepers there. The leprosy makes them loathsome to\nthe eye; it creeps over their bodies; it wastes their flesh; when it\nfastens on their hands, it will make the very fingers drop off!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, how dreadful!\u201d exclaimed all the children.\n\n\u201cDreadful indeed, but not _so_ dreadful as the sin which it\nrepresents,\u201d said their mother sadly; \u201cfor the soul\u2019s sickness is more\ndangerous, its effects infinitely more lasting.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t quite see how leprosy is a type of sin,\u201d observed Amy.\n\n\u201cI think that we are led to believe it to be such by the very\nparticular commands regarding it which we find in the law of Moses,\u201d\nsaid Mrs. Temple.\n\n\u201cDid poor people with leprosy never get well again?\u201d asked Elsie, with\npity expressed on her round little face.\n\n\u201cYes, they did sometimes recover,\u201d said her mother, \u201cbut not by such\nmeans as are used in cases of other sickness. Not a doctor, but a\npriest, was to judge whether the leper were really cured, or, as it\nwas called, _clean_; and he had to bring a special offering to be\nsacrificed to the Lord.\u201d\n\n\u201cI suppose the offering was that sheep which we see in the picture?\u201d\nsaid Elsie, for the illustrated Bible had again been brought and placed\nupon Mrs. Temple\u2019s knee, and the firelight was sufficiently bright to\nshow a picture representing a cured leper coming to the high-priest, to\nfind which illustration Mrs. Temple had turned over the pages.\n\n\u201cThat picture shows but a part of the offering,\u201d replied Mrs. Temple.\n\u201cWhen the candles come in, I will read to you from the \u2018Pictorial\nHistory of Palestine,\u2019 written by the famous Dr. Kitto, a description\nof a very peculiar ceremony which took place before the sheep and two\nrams were slain as a sin-offering.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! here come the candles\u2014just when we want them!\u201d cried Elsie, as\nEliza made her appearance.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll get Dr. Kitto\u2019s big book!\u201d exclaimed Lucius, jumping up from his\nseat by the fire.\n\nThe candles were placed on the table near enough to Mrs. Temple to\nenable her to read without quitting her warm seat, but merely turning\nher chair round to the table. She then read aloud the following extract\nfrom the work of the learned doctor:\n\n\u201c\u2018When a person was reported to be free of his leprosy, a priest\nwent out of the camp and subjected him to a very strict examination.\nIf no signs of the disorder appeared upon him, the priest sent a\nperson to bring two living birds (doves or young pigeons), cedar wood,\nscarlet wool, and hyssop, with which he performed the ceremonies of\npurification, to admit the party to the privileges of the Hebrew Church\nand communion.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat does that mean, mother?\u201d ashed Lucius.\n\n\u201cThat the man was no longer to be cut off, as were lepers in Israel,\nfrom worshipping the Lord within the camp, or mixing with the rest of\nthe people,\u201d replied Mrs. Temple.\n\n\u201cOh, mamma, might not a poor leper do that!\u201d exclaimed Amy. \u201cTo be\nshut out from praying with one\u2019s friends and relations would be almost\nthe worst trial of all!\u201d\n\n\u201cRemember, my child, that the dreadful disease was infectious; there\nwas need of the greatest care lest it should spread in their camp.\nLepers had to wear a particular dress, and to live apart from all who\nwere yet in health. If any one drew near to a leper unawares, the\nafflicted one had to cry out \u2018Unclean! unclean!\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t think that I will ever again complain of being shut up from\nfriends and playmates because of this whooping-cough,\u201d cried Lucius.\n\u201cIt is disagreeable enough to be kept as we are even from going to\nchurch, but fancy what it would be to have to cry out \u2018Unclean!\nunclean!\u2019 if any one chanced to come near us!\u201d\n\n\u201cPlease, mamma, go on with the account of what the priest had to do\nwith the two birds which he sent for when he found that the leper was\nquite well again,\u201d said Amy.\n\nMrs. Temple continued her reading:\n\n\u201c\u2018He slew one of the birds, and received its blood in an earthen\nvessel. Into this he dipped the cedar wood, the scarlet wool, and the\nhyssop, and therewith sprinkled seven times the once leprous person.\nThe other bird was then permitted to escape, as a symbol that the man\nwas now free of his leprosy.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, how joyful the bird must have been when allowed to fly free up\u2014up\nhigh into the air!\u201d exclaimed Elsie.\n\n\u201cNot more glad than the poor cleansed leper, of whom that bird was a\ntype,\u201d observed Mrs. Temple. \u201cThink of his joy at being free to return\nto his family\u2014his wife and his children; and his thankful delight when\nworshipping once more with his former companions in the court of the\nTabernacle of his God!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt seems to me that there is a verse in one of the Psalms which shows\nthat David had the cleansing of a leper in his mind when he prayed to\nthe Lord to forgive him his sin,\u201d remarked Lucius.\n\n\u201cI was just thinking of the same when mamma read about the hyssop,\u201d\nsaid Amy. \u201cIt made me feel sure that Agnes was right when she chose\nleprosy as a type of sin.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is the verse to which you allude?\u201d asked the mother.\n\nLucius was the one to reply, but the lips of Amy silently moved,\nas she repeated the same verse to herself from the fifty-first\nPsalm\u2014\u201c\u2018_Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I\nshall be whiter than snow!_\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, mamma! I remember the story of the poor leper who came to the Lord\nJesus,\u201d said Elsie, \u201cand how he cried, \u2018_Lord if thou wilt, thou canst\nmake me clean!_\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cHow much more deeply interesting is the Saviour\u2019s reply, \u2018_I will, be\nthou clean_,\u2019 if we look upon leprosy as a type of sin,\u201d observed Mrs.\nTemple. \u201cThe Lord was able and willing to heal, not the poor man\u2019s body\nalone, but also his soul; and make him free from all stain of sin as\nwell as from all taint of disease.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXII.\n\nNaaman.\n\n\n\u201cTHE leper story which has always interested me most is that of Naaman\nthe Syrian,\u201d said Lucius, when he had put back Dr. Kitto\u2019s large volume\nin its place in the bookcase.\n\n\u201cO yes, yes,\u201d interrupted little Elsie; \u201cI know that story too, quite\nwell. I know that Naaman was a great man, and rich, and a famous\ngeneral besides, but he had the dreadful sickness which no doctor could\ncure. I remember how Naaman came in a grand chariot with prancing\nhorses to the house of the good prophet Elisha, and how angry he was\nwhen only a servant came out and told him to wash seven times in the\nriver Jordan.\u201d\n\nElsie stopped almost out of breath from the rapidity with which she had\nspoken. All the young Temples were familiar with the account of the\ncure of the Syrian, which was one of their favorite Scripture stories.\n\n\u201cWas the leprosy of Naaman also a type of sin?\u201d inquired Lucius.\n\n\u201cI believe that it was,\u201d answered Mrs. Temple, \u201cand I am strengthened\nin this belief by Naaman\u2019s leprosy coming upon Gehazi, as a direct\npunishment for his sin.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! that wicked Gehazi!\u201d exclaimed Elsie; \u201che told a lie, a dreadful\nlie! It was right that he should be punished, was it not?\u201d The\nquestion was asked of Dora, Elsie\u2019s favorite sister. The child wondered\nat the unwonted silence which had come over Dora, and wanted to draw\nher into conversing like the rest of the party.\n\nDora winced at the question, and only replied by a slight movement of\nher head. But little Elsie was not satisfied by this. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you\nspeak?\u201d she said bluntly. \u201cWhen people are so very naughty as to tell\nlies, and say that they are doing nothing when they are doing something\nbad, don\u2019t you think that they ought to be well punished for it?\u201d\n\nForced to reply, for Elsie\u2019s question had drawn every one\u2019s attention\ntowards her, Dora answered, \u201cOf course they should be punished;\u201d\nand having thus pronounced sentence upon herself, she relapsed into\nsilence, feeling much inclined, however, to start up and escape from\nthe room.\n\n\u201cAre you not well, my love?\u201d asked her mother, who could not help\nnoticing that Dora\u2019s manner was different from usual.\n\n\u201cQuite well, mamma; only a little tired,\u201d was the evasive reply.\n\n\u201cTired of doing nothing,\u201d said Lucius.\n\nThe conversation on the subject of Naaman was then resumed by Agnes.\n\n\u201cWhen Naaman was cleansed of his leprosy, mamma, how was it that Elisha\ndid not tell him to go and show himself to the priest, and that we hear\nnothing about a sin-offering, nor of a bird being set free?\u201d asked the\nelder twin.\n\n\u201cYou must remember,\u201d replied Mrs. Temple, \u201cthat Naaman was not an\nIsraelite but a Syrian, a Gentile, and that he was therefore not bound\nto observe the ceremonial law of the Jews. I think that Naaman was a\ntype of the Gentile church, to which belong all Christians who are not\ndescended from Abraham and Isaac.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo which we then belong,\u201d observed Lucius.\n\n\u201cNotice, my children,\u201d continued the lady, \u201chow we see, as if in a\nseries of pictures, the history of a converted soul in the story of\nNaaman\u2019s cure. First there is the man possessing all that earth can\ngive him, but afflicted with a deadly disease.\u201d\n\n\u201cLike the people who were bitten by the fiery serpents,\u201d interrupted\nLucius.\n\n\u201cHere in the leprous Naaman we behold a type or picture of a soul with\nunforgiven sin staining and corrupting it,\u201d said his mother. \u201cNext we\nfind the leper at the door of the prophet. Can any one of you tell me\nof what Naaman now is a type?\u201d\n\n\u201cA seeking soul,\u201d replied Agnes, after a little pause for reflection.\n\n\u201cAh! but the next picture is of the leper turning away quite angry\nbecause he was told just to wash and be clean,\u201d cried Elsie.\n\n\u201cThen Naaman is a type of a proud soul, not content with God\u2019s simple\nbut wonderful plan of salvation,\u201d continued the lady. \u201cThere are some\npersons now who think that they can earn heaven by doing some great\nthing, who believe that because of their own goodness they can be\nclean in the sight of God. Such persons, like Naaman, are offended and\nhurt when they are told that all their good works cannot take away sin;\nthat the leper can only be saved by living faith in Him whose blood is\nthe fountain opened for all uncleanness.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut Naaman did go and dip down seven times in Jordan as he was\nbidden,\u201d cried Elsie; \u201cand then he was made quite well, his flesh all\nsoft and clean, just like a little child\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is a picture or type of a believing, forgiven soul,\u201d said Mrs.\nTemple, \u201cthe picture of one who has become a child of God, and who is\nresolved, by the help of His Spirit, to lead from henceforth a new\nlife.\u201d\n\n\u201cThese types are really beginning to be quite plain to me now, mother,\u201d\nsaid Lucius, \u201cand they make the Old Testament seem to me to be very\nmuch more beautiful than it ever seemed before. I remember how puzzled\nI have been by some words in one of the Epistles about the rock which\nMoses smote in the desert, and from which the waters gushed out. St.\nPaul wrote \u2018that Rock was Christ,\u2019 and I never could make out what he\nmeant, for how could the rock be the Lord? But now I understand, at\nleast I think that I do, that the Apostle meant \u2018that smitten rock was\na TYPE of Christ,\u2019 and so everything becomes plain.\u201d\n\n\u201cSome of our Lord\u2019s own expressions require to be explained in the same\nkind of way,\u201d observed Mrs. Temple. \u201cWhen our Saviour declared that He\nwas the Vine, and his disciples the branches, it was as if He had said,\n\u2018A vine is a TYPE of Me, and its branches a type of My servants. _As\nthe branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine, no\nmore can ye_ (bear the fruits of holiness), _except ye abide in Me._\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd when the Lord said of the bread at the last supper, _This is My\nbody_, His words must have meant that the bread was a TYPE of His\nbody,\u201d said Amy with thoughtful reverence. She was a lowly-hearted\ngirl, and she felt, as we all should feel, that when so very sacred a\nsubject as the Lord\u2019s sufferings or death is spoken of by us, it is as\nif, through the opening in the Tabernacle Veil, we were entering into\nthe Holy of holies.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXIII.\n\nThe Twins.\n\n\n\u201cCAN one object be a type of more than one thing, mamma?\u201d asked Lucius,\n\u201cfor there is something which we have just spoken of as being a type of\nwhat heals our souls\u2014I mean by that, true living faith in the Lord; and\nI have thought of something quite different, of which it seems also a\ntype.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you speaking of the river Jordan?\u201d asked Agnes, through whose mind\nthe same thought had been passing.\n\n\u201cYes, the river in which Naaman dipped seven times and was cleansed,\u201d\nreplied Lucius. \u201cWhen the Israelites, after their long wanderings in\nthe desert, came to that same river Jordan, there was nothing but its\nwaters between them and the Promised Land, which mother told me to-day\nis a type of heaven.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the waters were divided to let the people pass over quite easily\nand safely,\u201d interrupted little Elsie, who never missed an opportunity\nof bringing out any knowledge which she had gleaned.\n\n\u201cHush, Elsie! you distract my thoughts,\u201d said her brother, \u201cand make me\nforget with your prattle what I was going to say. Oh, it is this! When\nChristians have almost got over their long life-journey, there is only\none thing at last that divides them from heaven, their Promised Land;\nand that thing is death. Mother, is not Jordan a type of death?\u201d\n\n\u201cI believe that it is,\u201d said his mother and Amy silently thought of\nthose beautiful verses which allude to this type:\u2014\n\n    \u201cOh! could we bid our doubts remove,\n       Those gloomy doubts that rise,\n     And view the Canaan that we love\n       With Faith\u2019s unclouded eyes;\n\n    \u201cCould we but stand where Moses stood,\n       And view the landscape o\u2019er,\n     _Nor Jordan\u2019s stream, nor death\u2019s cold flood,_\n       Could fright us from the shore.\u201d\n\n\u201cI also believe,\u201d continued the lady, \u201cthat the dividing of the waters,\nwhich enabled the Israelites to pass over without so much as wetting\ntheir feet, is a type of the terrors of death being taken away from\nthe Christian. Safe through the atoning sacrifice and happy in the\nlove of his Lord, the believer can peacefully pass on to his promised\nland\u2014heaven\u2014with as little cause for fear as the Israelites had in\ncrossing the dry bed of the Jordan.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! the Israelites were a happy people,\u201d said Amy, softly. \u201cThink of\ntheir having God always to guide them by the pillar of fire and cloud,\nand holy Moses always to pray for them; and the beautiful promised land\nCanaan before them, and so many wonderful miracles worked for their\ngood! I almost wish,\u201d she added, \u201cthat I had lived in those days.\u201d\n\n\u201cHappier are Christians in these days, my child,\u201d said her mother,\n\u201cfor they know more, far more, of the Saviour\u2019s love than was ever\nmade known to the people of Israel. We have God\u2019s sure Word to guide\nus in our wanderings through the desert of life, and we have beyond\nthat desert a far brighter land than Canaan, even heaven, promised and\npurchased by Him who prepares good things for those who love Him; and\nwe have One far greater than Moses\u2014One who ever liveth to plead for\nus at the right hand of God while we fight our battles against sin.\nMoses was a being of flesh and blood as we are; his arms grew tired,\nhe needed to have them held up by Aaron and Hur; but the Lord Jesus\nin praying for His people never grows weary, and His love never grows\ncold. My children, when life was most like a desert to me, when your\nfather had crossed the Jordan and left me behind, I cannot tell you\nwhat comfort and support I found in the knowledge of that prayer and\nthe thought of that love!\u201d\n\nMrs. Temple\u2019s voice faltered, and Amy felt the hand which she was\nclasping tremble. The lady now very seldom gave way to any outward\nburst of sorrow in the presence of her children; her manner was usually\ncheerful and bright; but the elder ones could well remember how great\nhad been her grief in the first sad days of her widowhood, when their\nfather\u2019s useful life had been closed by a peaceful death. The young\nTemples all respected their mother\u2019s sorrow, and when she paused from\nemotion the room was so still that the crackling of the fire and the\ntick of the clock were the only sounds to be heard. But Mrs. Temple was\nnot willing to throw even a brief shadow over the cheerfulness of her\nlittle family circle, and would not now have given way to her feelings\nhad not bodily weariness and pain made her less able to control them.\nMrs. Temple very quickly recovered her usual tone, and said in her\nwonted cheerful manner, \u201cMy little Elsie\u2019s eyes are growing sleepy, she\ncan hardly manage to keep them open! My birdie had better fly up to her\nsnug warm nest, and prepare by a good long rest for a busy to-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, to-morrow will indeed be a busy day!\u201d exclaimed Lucius; \u201cI\nmean to be up with the lark. I hope, mother,\u201d he added, \u201cthat you won\u2019t\nmind the noise of my hammer?\u201d\n\nMrs. Temple with a smile assured her boy that she would not mind\nanything; she had not been a mother so long without becoming accustomed\nto noise, and she would be just as much interested in the progress of\nthe work of her children as they themselves could be.\n\n\u201cYou will like me to get on with my little red curtains?\u201d said Elsie,\nin rather a drowsy tone.\n\nA fond kiss was the mother\u2019s reply; and then Mrs. Temple herself took\nher youngest child up to her bed-room, for the lady always liked to\nhear Elsie repeat her evening prayer.\n\nAbout an hour afterwards all the other young Temples had wished their\nmother good-night, and retired to the several apartments in which\nthey slept. The twins shared the same room. It was a very pretty one,\nadorned with framed pictures painted by their Aunt Theodora, and\nlighted by candles in elegant green glass candlesticks, which had been\na birthday present to them from their mother. Both the girls were,\non the night in question, more silent than usual, but from different\ncauses.\n\nAs Agnes sat slowly brushing out her long plaits of brown hair, stopped\nevery now and then by her cough, her thoughts dwelt much on the subject\nof the Israelites and their journey through the wilderness, which she\nwas now taught to regard, not only as a historical fact, but also as a\ntype of the life-journey of Christians.\n\nAgnes was not by natural disposition so merry and light-hearted as her\nbrother and sisters, and this difference between her and the rest of\nthe family was all the more marked at the time of which I am writing,\nfrom the health of the elder twin being a good deal shaken by her\nillness. Agnes had naturally a peevish, passionate temper, which\ngreatly marred her own peace of mind, and which prevented her from\nwinning much love from her young companions. Agnes had many faults, and\nshe knew that she had them; they were to her a trouble and burden. The\nyoung girl honestly wished to get rid of and conquer these faults, but\nshe wanted energy and spirit to make a really good battle against her\nbesetting sins. Agnes was too much disposed to conclude that because\nshe was ill-tempered she must always continue ill-tempered, that there\nwas no use in striving to subdue her evil nature. Mrs. Temple\u2019s elder\ntwin was wont to feel vexed and to look sullen because Lucius never\ncared to sit and chat with her as he would with Dora; and because\nElsie never threw her arms round her neck as she would round Amy\u2019s. It\ngrieved Agnes to notice that no one ever called her \u201cpet,\u201d or seemed to\ntake delight in having her near.\n\n\u201cI know that it is partly my own fault,\u201d Agnes would often say to\nherself, in bitterness of soul; \u201cbut I don\u2019t think that if I were to\nleave home for months, there is any one but mamma who would miss me or\nwant me back.\u201d\n\nSuch thoughts had only the effect of making the poor girl\u2019s temper more\ncross, and her manner more peevish; it is so hard for the face to look\nbright and sweet when gloom is within the heart.\n\nBut better thoughts were in the mind of Agnes on that Sunday night,\nas she sat silently brushing her hair. Sweet and comforting was the\nreflection that she was not left to fight her battle alone, that there\nwas One who would not only hear her prayer, but who would Himself pray\nfor His feeble child\u2014who would both watch her struggle against sin,\nand give her strength in that struggle. It was sweet to poor Agnes,\nwhen she afterwards knelt down to pray by the side of her bed, to feel\nthat if she was, like an Israelite, bitten by the serpent of sin, she\nknew where to look for a cure; that if she was like Naaman the leper,\nthere was the Fountain open to her, in which she could wash and be\nclean. Hope had sprung up in the young girl\u2019s heart, and with hope came\nincrease of courage. Agnes remembered that the Lord who had supplied\nall the need of the Israelites could supply hers also; and when\ntemptations assailed her, as the enemy assailed that people, make her\nalso more than conqueror through the power of His Holy Spirit.\n\nVery, very different were the thoughts passing through the mind of\nDora, though outwardly she was doing exactly the same things as were\ndone by her twin sister. Dora was _not_ making a brave battle against\ninward sin, but was, like a coward and traitor, going over to the\nenemy\u2019s side. It is true that she still intended to unpick on the\nMonday morning all that she had sewn on the Sunday afternoon; but this\nresolve was made on the false principle of punishing herself for the\nsin she would not honestly confess, and of which she had never truly\nrepented. This idea of self-inflicted punishment was merely Dora\u2019s\ncontrivance for quieting conscience, that conscience which had been\nvery uneasy during the conversation on the subject of leprosy, the\nterrible type of sin. But Dora was trying, and with tolerable success,\nto banish from her mind all thought of that conversation. It was far\nmore pleasant to think of the pattern of the Tabernacle curtains than\nof the holy things of which that Tabernacle should remind us.\n\nA great many persons\u2014even grown-up persons\u2014act, alas! like Dora. They\nso fix their attention on outward things in religion that they quite\noverlook the inward meaning. Such self-deceivers are ready enough to\nwork at what pleases the eye and amuses the fancy, and believe that\nthey are making an offering to God; but the cleansing of the heart, the\ngiving up sin\u2014these are duties which they shrink from, and which they\nwillingly put off to \u201ca more convenient season.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXIV.\n\nWork.\n\n\nALMOST every inmate of Cedar Lodge was up very early on Monday\nmorning, Agnes being the only member of the family who did not rise\ntill her usual hour. The first crow of the cock, strutting about in\nthe yard behind the house, roused little Elsie from sleep. The child\nwas restless and impatient in her white-curtained cot, until she was\nsuffered to rise, dress, and set about her Turkey-red work for the\nmodel. Amy was bending over her strip of white linen almost before\nthere was sufficient light for her to see how to thread her fine\nneedle, for the morning was dark and rainy; indeed the sun never showed\nhis face during the whole of that cheerless day.\n\nDrip, drip! fell the rain, but none of the children regretted that they\nwere not likely to go out of the house. \u201cI don\u2019t mind the rain one\nbit!\u201d cried Elsie. \u201cI\u2019m glad that it rains; we\u2019ll get on so famously\nwith our work!\u201d\n\nDrip, drip! fell the rain; clink, clink! fell the hammer of Lucius; and\nblithe sounded his whistle, as he labored in the midst of his squares\nof pasteboard, strips of wood, and lengths of wire. The schoolboy\nset to his work with a will; and how pleasant is work when we have\nstrength and spirit to do it, and feel that we have a worthy object\nbefore us!\n\nNo one was up earlier than Dora. She sprang from her bed before\ntwilight had given place to day-light, so impatient was she to get to\nher embroidery pattern again. The noise of Dora\u2019s rising awoke Agnes,\nwho had not passed so good a night as her more vigorous twin had done,\nthe sickly girl having been several times disturbed by her cough.\n\n\u201cWhat are you about, Dora?\u201d murmured Agnes, in a drowsy and rather\ncomplaining tone; \u201cI\u2019m sure that it can\u2019t be nearly time to get up.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I like to set about my new work quickly, and get a good piece of\nit done before breakfast,\u201d was Dora\u2019s reply.\n\n\u201cThere will be plenty of time for work between this and Christmas; I\nwish that you would keep quiet and let me rest,\u201d yawned Agnes.\n\n\u201cYou can rest if you wish it; I won\u2019t make a noise,\u201d replied Dora. \u201cBut\nfor my part I like to be up and doing. You know that:\n\n    \u2018Early to bed, and early to rise,\n     Is the way to be healthy, wealthy, and wise.\u2019\u201d\n\nAgnes said nothing in contradiction of the old proverb which her sister\nhad quoted, but turned round on her pillow, and with a weary yawn\ncomposed herself again to sleep. She thought that it would be time\nenough to get up when Susan should call her at a quarter to seven, and\nshe only wished that Dora had thought so also, for it fidgeted Agnes to\nhear her moving about in the room. But Dora had cared as little about\ndisturbing the sleep of a sickly sister as she had about letting her\nmother go out in the rain. Dora admired her own energy, and looked upon\nAgnes almost with scorn, as being lazy, cold, and dull, with not a bit\nof enthusiasm in her nature.\n\n\u201cWe should not have had a model worth looking at had the embroidery\nbeen left to her,\u201d said Dora to herself, not without a feeling of\nself-complacence, as she glanced at her twin who had again sunk into\nslumber.\n\nIt will be remembered that Dora had resolved to unpick all the work\nthat she had sewn upon the preceding Sunday. As soon as the little girl\nhad hastily finished her toilet, so hastily that she forgot to button\nher sleeves or put on her collar, she opened her workbox, took out her\nwork, and seated herself as close to the window as possible, in order\nto catch as much as she could of the dim light of dawn. It might have\nbeen expected that Dora would also have forgotten to say her prayers,\nbut such was not the case. She remembered to kneel down by her bedside\nand hurry through a mere form of words, without paying the slightest\nattention to their meaning, thinking of her embroidery all the time. It\nwas a satisfaction to the conscience of Dora that she had repeated a\nprayer, and she never stopped to ask herself whether that prayer were\nnot in itself a sin.\n\nDora with needle and scissors set first to her work of unpicking. But\nevery one who has tried such an occupation must know it to be one of\nthe most tedious and disagreeable of tasks. It was doubly so to Dora,\nbecause she greatly admired the embroidery work which she was thus\nbeginning to spoil.\n\n\u201cIt is a great pity to undo this,\u201d Dora said to herself before she had\nbeen for two minutes plying the scissors. \u201cI won\u2019t go on with this\nfoolish unpicking. After all, my undoing every stitch of my pretty work\nwould not undo the fault of my having put it in on Sunday.\u201d\n\nThis was indeed true. A fault once committed, no human being has power\nto undo; but while looking to the Lord alone for forgiveness, we are\nbound to prove the sincerity of our regret for a fault by making what\namends lie in our power. Dora took the easier, but far more dangerous\nway, of trying to forget the fault altogether, or to make up for it by\nwhat she considered to be her zeal in charity work. She certainly sewed\nvery diligently on that dull morning, scarcely lifting her eyes from\nthe pattern which she had neatly traced on the linen. She was filling\nup the pencilled outlines with chain-stitch, satin-stitch, and other\nstitches, in bright-colored silks and a brilliant thread of gold.\n\n\u201cOh, look!\u2014just look how famously Dora has been getting on with her\nwork!\u201d exclaimed the admiring Elsie, when, summoned by the bell at\nhalf-past eight, the children had assembled in the breakfast-room,\nawaiting their mother\u2019s coming down to prayers.\n\n\u201cWhy, you don\u2019t mean to say that you have worked all that this\nmorning?\u201d said Lucius to Dora.\n\nThe question was rather an awkward one for Dora to answer\u2014it took the\ngirl by surprise. Dora replied to it by an evasion, which was another\nact of deceit. \u201cI couldn\u2019t begin my embroidery on Saturday night,\u201d she\nsaid, actually congratulating herself that she had this time spoken\n_the exact truth_, as if it were not the very essence of falsehood to\n_deceive_, even though the lips may utter no lie. As Dora had not sewn\non Saturday, she knew that Lucius would take it for granted that she\nhad been so clever and industrious as to do all the work which he saw\non the Monday morning, for he would certainly never suspect her of\nhaving put in one stitch upon Sunday.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you admire Dora\u2019s curtain, is it not lovely?\u201d said Amy to Agnes,\nwho was examining the work of her twin.\n\n\u201cRather,\u201d was the reply, uttered in a hesitating tone.\n\nAgnes could not truthfully have expressed warmer admiration, for she\ndid not think that the figures of the cherubim were at all gracefully\ndrawn, nor did she consider that the colors were perfectly blended,\nthere being too little scarlet in proportion to the purple and blue.\nBut the cold praise of the twin was not unnaturally set down by her\nfamily as coming from a mean, unworthy motive.\n\n\u201cShe is as jealous as a cat!\u201d exclaimed Lucius; \u201cAgnes can\u2019t forgive\npoor Dora for having been trusted with the most difficult part of the\nwork.\u201d\n\nThe irritable temper of Agnes fired up in a moment at an observation\nwhich she felt to be unjust as well as unkind. But Agnes on that Monday\nmorning had not merely said her prayers, she had really prayed for\ngrace to conquer besetting sin, and now, though she could not help her\ncheeks flushing scarlet at the taunt of her brother, she pressed her\nlips closely together, and kept down the passionate reply which it was\nso hard, so very hard, not to utter.\n\n\u201cHow much of your work have you done this morning, Agnes?\u201d asked Elsie,\nrather proudly, showing her own three inches of seam in the Turkey-red\ncloth.\n\n\u201cI have cut out my mohair curtains,\u201d said Agnes, who had also, though\nshe did not choose to say so, been mending her gloves, in obedience to\nthe known wish of her mother.\n\n\u201cCut out\u2014only cut out?\u201d laughed Lucius, who had been doing great things\nin the nailing and hammering line; \u201cif you take the matter so easily,\nAgnes, every one will _cut you out_, though you may not be made into\ncurtains!\u201d\n\nAgnes was provoked at the joke, and all the more so because Dora and\nElsie laughed, and Amy could not help smiling. Few persons like to be\nlaughed at, and the peevish-tempered Agnes was certainly not one of\nthe few. But the girl had made a resolve, not in vain trust in her own\npower of carrying it out, but in a spirit of humble prayer, to set\na watch before her lips; and if she could not speak kindly, not to\nutter a single word. Agnes could not, indeed, yet manage to take a\ndisagreeable joke with smiling good humor, but she bore it in resolute\nsilence, she did not utter any retort.\n\nNo one admired Agnes Temple, no one praised her self-command: she was\nthought lazy because she had not eagerly rushed into an occupation in\nwhich she took no particular pleasure, and for which she knew that she\nwould find plenty of time without neglecting more homely duties; she\nwas thought jealous because she had simply spoken the truth; and yet\non that day Agnes had begun a nobler work than that of embroidering in\npurple and gold, and her offering was a far more acceptable one than\nthat of which Dora was proud.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXV.\n\nDifferent Motives.\n\n\n\u201cWHAT a busy, cheerful little party!\u201d exclaimed Mrs. Temple, as she\nentered the study on the afternoon of that same day, and found all\nher children sitting together, sewing, cutting, gilding, and chatting\nmerrily as they worked. \u201cYou remind me of the busy, happy scene outside\nJerusalem, beheld every year when the Feast of Tabernacles was kept.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat was the Feast of Tabernacles, mamma?\u201d inquired Amy. Lucius would\nhave asked the same question, but he dared not speak at that moment\nlest his breath should blow away the sheet of gold-leaf with which he\nwas trying to cover his wires.\n\n\u201cThe Feast of Tabernacles was a yearly festival held by the Israelites\nin remembrance of the time spent by their fathers in tabernacles or\ntents in the desert,\u201d replied the lady. \u201cThis was the most cheerful of\nall the feasts, and was kept in a remarkable manner. The people made\nbooths for themselves of the branches of palm, willow, and other trees,\nand for seven days lived in these booths. There were processions, glad\nhosannas, and sounds of singing and mirth. The people enjoyed their\nout-of-door life, and blessed the Lord for His goodness in guiding\nthe Israelites through the wilderness to the good land in which their\nchildren now dwelt.\u201d\n\n\u201cOne could hardly keep such a feast in England,\u201d observed Agnes,\nglancing out of the window at the gray sky and the dripping trees,\nwhich were dimly reflected in the pools left by the morning\u2019s rain.\n\n\u201cI think that living in green leafy booths would be delightful in\nsummer, even in England!\u201d exclaimed Lucius, who had managed to fix his\ngold-leaf. \u201cI should have liked, had I been a Jew, to have kept the\nFeast of Tabernacles\u2014better perhaps than to have helped to make this\nmodel Tabernacle,\u201d added the boy, who, after several hours of steady\nwork, was beginning to feel rather tired. \u201cI should much prefer hewing\ndown branches, and doing the rough carpentering part of the business,\nto gilding these tiresome, fidgety wires, which I am sure to ungild\nagain as soon as I attempt to fix them into their frame.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat, you are weary of your work already!\u201d exclaimed Dora, as she\npaused in her sewing to thread her needle.\n\n\u201cNot exactly weary of it now,\u201d answered Lucius, \u201cbut I guess that I\nshall be so long before this model is finished. It is all very well,\u201d\nhe continued, taking up his knife to hack away at some stubborn\npasteboard\u2014\u201cit is all very well to make pillars and curtains while\nthe sky is cloudy, and the rain falls fast, and I am kept prisoner at\nhome; but suppose that the rain should stop, and the sun shine out,\nand the weather become settled at last, wouldn\u2019t every one of us like\nrunning about in the fields all day, playing at cricket, or croquet, or\nrounders, better than measuring and cutting and\u2014\u2014there! snap goes my\nknife, my new knife!\u201d and with a gesture of impatience the boy flung\nthe unmanageable pasteboard down on the table.\n\nThere was much to justify the suspicion expressed by Lucius that\nthe work so eagerly begun by the Temples would, before it could be\nfinished, become a burden and a tax upon the patience of all. On the\nvery next day began a season of warmth and sunshine, which did more to\ndrive away coughs and restore vigor to late invalids than could all the\nskill of the doctor. Even Agnes was able to spend hours in the open\nair; and, except at mealtimes, Lucius liked to be out all the day. His\nfidgety work, as he called it, could scarcely be done but indoors, and\nthe boy found it a grievous task.\n\n\u201cBut it would be a shame not to go on with the model now, after putting\nmamma to so much trouble and expense,\u201d observed Lucius one morning to\nDora. \u201cBesides, I engaged to do it, and no English boy must flinch back\nfrom keeping his word. The new knife which I bought yesterday is not to\nbe compared to that which I so unluckily snapped over the pasteboard;\nbut I must hack away steadily, and show a good example to that lazy\npuss Elsie, who since the fine weather began has not put another stitch\ninto her Turkey-red curtains.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe has stowed them away in her doll\u2019s cradle,\u201d observed Dora,\nlaughing.\n\nMrs. Temple was not surprised to find that the making of the model\nnow progressed more slowly; she was rather pleased to see the amount\nof perseverance shown by her children after the charm of novelty had\nworn off. Even the \u201clazy puss\u201d drew her work from its hiding-place,\nand would sew\u2014for five minutes at a time\u2014\u201cjust to please dear mamma.\u201d\nAll the five Temples continued to work, when work had ceased to be\nan amusement; but they worked from different motives. Those which\ninfluenced Lucius\u2014a manly, honorable boy\u2014have been mentioned already,\nas well as the simple wish to please mother which made Elsie prick\nher plump little finger under her Turkey-red cloth. But if you could\nglance into the hearts of the three other girls as they sit together\nindustriously plying their needles, we should find an example of how\nthe very same effect may be produced by different causes.\n\nAmy had from the very first considered her humble work as something to\nbe done for her Heavenly Master, and this sweet thought made her take\npleasure in labor, which without it would have been wearisome indeed.\nIt was this thought which made Amy put fine hemming and stitching into\nthe long strips of white lawn which represented the linen curtains\nsurrounding the court of the Tabernacle, and even unpick any portion\nwhich did not seem to her to be sewn neatly enough. Amy tried to give\nher best, her very best work, because she was giving it to the Lord,\nand some of the happiest hours which the little girl ever had known\nwere spent over her tedious curtains.\n\n\u201cI cannot think, Amy, how you can go on so patiently with what is so\ntiresome, with no variety in it, and a kind of work which will not look\nstriking when all is done,\u201d exclaimed Dora one day, as she unrolled\nsome glittering gold thread from her reel.\n\nAmy smiled as she glanced up at her sister\u2019s far more amusing\noccupation. \u201cIf I could have worked anything so pretty as the veil\nwhich you are making, I daresay that I should have liked it much\nbetter,\u201d she observed. \u201cBut I am pleased to do the plain work as well\nas I can, as the embroidery would have been far too difficult for me.\u201d\n\nAmy\u2019s curtains might seem plain to the eyes of most people, but her\nmother looked upon them with special pleasure; for, as she said to\nherself, \u201cthey are embroided all over with faith and love.\u201d\n\nAgnes also made steady progress with her not very inviting work, though\nshe took in it no great pleasure. Agnes regarded the sewing as a matter\nof duty, and therefore plied her needle in the same spirit as that in\nwhich she struggled to subdue her temper, and tried to put a bridle on\nher tongue. It was the work which had been given to her, and she would\ndo it, without asking herself whether she liked it or not.\n\n\u201cThis material, neither smooth nor pretty, is something like a type of\nme,\u201d thought Agnes, as she put the finishing stitch into one of her\nmohair curtains; \u201cbut the goats\u2019-hair had just as much its appointed\nplace in the Tabernacle as loops of silver and sockets of gold. I shall\nnever be as much liked and admired as Dora is\u2014I may as well make up my\nmind to that; but if God help me by His grace, I too may lead a useful\nlife, and be dear\u2014at least to my mother.\u201d\n\nAnd more and more dear was Agnes becoming to her mother, who watched\nwith the keen eye of affection the struggle made by her eldest daughter\nagainst her besetting sins. Mrs. Temple guessed what it cost Agnes to\nbear a rough joke in silence, to lend pretty things which she feared\nthat the borrower might spoil, to give up her own way, and to show no\njealous anger when another was preferred before her.\n\n\u201cMy girl\u2019s character is becoming stronger and nobler every day,\u201d\nthought Mrs. Temple; \u201cI thank the Lord for my Agnes, for I am sure that\nit is His grace that is working in her heart. Agnes promises to grow up\ninto a really valuable woman, one whom her mother can trust.\u201d\n\nMrs. Temple could not have said as much for her dearly loved Dora. The\nlady was perplexed and pained to feel that something\u2014she knew not what\nit could be\u2014seemed to have come between her and her bright, clever,\naffectionate child. Dora, indeed, gave Mrs. Temple no cause to find\nfault with her conduct; her lessons were well learned, her temper was\ngood, she was a favorite still with her brother and sisters; and yet\nher mother felt that there was a change in her Dora for which she could\nnot account. Mrs. Temple was wont to have little quiet conversations\nseparately with each of her children at night: in these meetings they\nwere able to open their hearts more freely to their mother than they\ncould have done had a third person been present, and their parent could\nspeak upon religious subjects in the way best suited to the character\nand age of each. These quiet moments spent alone with mamma had been\ngreatly prized by all the children; but Dora could take pleasure in\nthem no more, and her parent was conscious that such was the case.\nThe girl generally managed, only too easily, to forget all about her\nunrepented sin when the remembrance of it was not forced upon her\nnow half-deadened conscience, but when her mother sat by her bedside\nand softly talked to her about heaven, Dora grew uneasy in spirit.\nShe did not like to be reminded of the holy God whose law she had\nbroken\u2014what pleasure could the knowledge of His truth bring to one\nwho was conscious of unrepented falsehood! The returns of Sundays,\nnay, even the hour for family prayer, were never welcome to Dora. When\nshe repeated texts or hymns, as the rest of the family did, she had\nthe wretched consciousness that she was acting a hypocrite\u2019s part,\nand taking God\u2019s name in vain. Dora\u2019s life was becoming one long act\nof deceit. She was secretly ashamed of herself for appearing so much\nbetter than she in reality was.\n\n\u201cBut my work\u2014my beautiful work\u2014my work for the poor\u2014I\u2019ll make up for\nwhat I\u2019ve done wrong by taking extra pains with that!\u201d thought Dora.\nAnd so the poor girl usually succeeded in winning much praise from\nothers, and in deceiving her own sinful heart, only too willing to be\nthus deceived.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXVI.\n\nThe High-Priest.\n\n\n\u201cTHERE is one thing which we can\u2019t do, it is too hard for even Dora,\u201d\nobserved Elsie one morning at breakfast, when, as was often the case,\nthe Children\u2019s Tabernacle had formed a topic of conversation. \u201cWe can\u2019t\nmake models of the Ark, or the Altar, or the Table of Showbread; our\npretty curtains won\u2019t cover anything, the Tabernacle will be quite\nempty!\u201d\n\n\u201cI really could not undertake to do more than I am doing, even if my\nfingers could manage to make such tiny models,\u201d said Lucius, who, as\nwe have seen, already found that he had engaged in a difficult task.\n\nAgnes, Dora, and Amy were silent; they all felt that there would\ncertainly be a great want in their Tabernacle, but they did not see how\nthat want could possibly be supplied.\n\nThe young Temples little guessed that while their mother was in her own\nroom, engaged, as they supposed, in reading or writing, or making up\nher household accounts, she was preparing for them a pleasant surprise.\nMrs. Temple was not less with her family than usual, she did not\nneglect her house affairs, she never forgot either to order the dinner\nor to pay the butcher and baker, but she stole time for her novel\nemployment from her sleep, and from her favorite amusement of reading\nlibrary books.\n\nOn the day when the model was completed, when the last silver socket\nhad been fastened, and the last little curtain hemmed, the children had\nthe pleasure of setting up the Tabernacle in the study, to see how it\nlooked. There was great satisfaction in surveying the finished work;\nevery one felt glad that the long labor was over, and that he had had a\nshare in the work.\n\n\u201cHow pleased auntie will be!\u201d cried Elsie.\n\n\u201cAnd the ragged children, too,\u201d joined in Amy.\n\n\u201cAnd now go out for your walk, my dear ones,\u201d said their mother; \u201cthe\nmorning is so frosty and bright that you may make your walk a long one;\nI should not be surprised should you wander as far as Burnley woods. I\nshall not expect you back for a couple of hours.\u201d\n\n\u201cMother, you will go with us,\u201d said Lucius.\n\n\u201cI will be particularly engaged this morning,\u201d replied Mrs. Temple,\nas she shook her head with a smile. Elsie remarked afterwards that it\nhad been \u201ca knowing kind of smile,\u201d as if there had been some very\nparticular reason indeed for her mamma\u2019s stopping at home. The reason\nwas clear enough to all the party when they returned from their walk,\nand with their cheeks rosy from the fresh air and exercise re-entered\nthe study. The children found their mother standing beside the model.\nElsie, who was the first to run up to it, gave almost a scream of\ndelight.\n\n\u201cOh! see\u2014see what mamma has been making! Clever mamma!\u201d she cried,\nclapping her hands, and jumping for joy.\n\n\u201cWhat lovely little models!\u201d exclaimed Lucius. \u201cMother, it is you who\nhave cut us all out.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have done what none of us could have done,\u201d said Agnes.\n\n\u201cAnd so quietly too,\u201d observed Dora.\n\n\u201cThere is nothing wanting now!\u201d cried Amy, putting her arm fondly\naround the parent who had so kindly entered into the little pleasures\nof her children.\n\n\u201cI thought that one thing more was wanting,\u201d said Mrs. Temple. The lady\nseated herself beside the table, and took off the cover of a little\npasteboard box which she held in her hand. The children looked on with\nmingled curiosity and pleasure as their mother carefully drew out from\nit a beautiful little figure about two inches long, exquisitely dressed\nin miniature garments, representing those which were worn by the\nhigh-priest of Israel. To imitate these garments in a size so small,\nhad taxed the utmost skill of the ingenious and neat-fingered lady.\n\nI need not set down all the exclamations of wonder and pleasure which\nwere uttered by the younger Temples. If their mother\u2019s great object had\nbeen to gratify her children, that object was certainly attained.\n\n\u201cThe dress which I have tried to imitate,\u201d said the lady, \u201cis that\nin which the high-priest appeared on solemn occasions. The Day of\nAtonement was, however, an exception; on that most solemn day in the\nyear, when the high-priest ventured into the Holy of holies, he did so\nin simple garments of pure white linen.\u201d\n\nThe mother then showed and explained to her family the different\narticles of dress on her curious model. The under-tunic, or shirt, of\nlinen, and above it the mantle of sky-blue color, having at the bottom\nan ornamental border or fringe.\n\n\u201cThis fringe, which, as you see, I have cut out in the form of tiny\npomegranates, ought to be interspersed with bells of gold,\u201d said Mrs.\nTemple; \u201cbut my fingers could not succeed in making anything so very\nminute.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd unless we had looked through a microscope, we could not have\ndistinguished bells no bigger than needles\u2019 eyes,\u201d observed Lucius.\n\n\u201cAnd what is this fine uppermost garment, reaching to the knees?\u201d\ninquired Dora, looking admiringly on the delicate embroidery in gold\nand colors similar to that which she had herself worked for the Veil,\nonly a great deal finer.\n\n\u201cThis is the Ephod,\u201d replied Mrs. Temple. \u201cOn the front of it I have,\nas you see, worked in very small beads of various colors an imitation\nof the high-priest\u2019s breastplate, which was formed of twelve precious\nstones.\u201d\n\nThe minute breastplate excited more attention than any other part of\nthe high-priest\u2019s dress, and had, perhaps, given the skilful worker\nmore trouble than all the rest. Every one of the little beads was of a\ndifferent tint. They were closely set together in rows, so as to form a\nsquare ornament, and were fastened to the shoulder parts of the Ephod\nby little threads of gold.\n\n\u201cHow very splendid the real breastplate must have been!\u201d exclaimed Dora\nTemple.\n\n\u201cHad it also some typical meaning?\u201d asked Lucius. \u201cI suppose so,\u201d he\nadded, \u201cas everything about the Tabernacle and the high-priest seems to\nhave been a type of something greater.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn each of the precious stones in the splendid breastplate was\ninscribed the names of one of the twelve tribes of Israel,\u201d replied\nMrs. Temple. \u201cI believe that the breastplate was worn by the\nhigh-priest, who was to pray in the Tabernacle for the people, and\nthen to come forward and bless them, as a token that he bore their\nnames on his heart.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, that is a beautiful meaning!\u201d cried Amy; \u201cespecially when we\nthink,\u201d she continued, more softly, \u201cthat the high-priest was a type of\nour blessed Saviour Himself.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho bears all His people\u2019s names on his heart,\u201d observed Mrs. Temple;\n\u201cboth when He pleads for them in heaven, and when He blesses them upon\nearth.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe high-priest must have looked very noble and grand in his rich\ngarments,\u201d observed Lucius; \u201cand yet it seems too much honor for any\nmere man to be called a type of the Son of God.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, my boy! poor and mean indeed must any earthly type appear when\ncompared to the heavenly Antitype!\u201d exclaimed Mrs. Temple. \u201cThat\nthought came strongly to my mind as I was sewing together these little\nworthless glass beads to form the model of the glorious breastplate.\n\u2018Can these wretched little atoms of colored glass,\u2019 I said to myself,\n\u2018give any idea of magnificent jewels, sparkling in light, set in\ngold, and each engraved with a name?\u2019 But even so mean, and small,\nand insignificant was Aaron, in all his splendor, compared to the\nsacred Being who deigns to call Himself our High-Priest, and to make\nintercession for us above!\u201d\n\nAll the party were silent for several moments, looking down at the\nlittle model, and thinking over the words of their mother. Elsie then\npointed to the curious head-dress which appeared on the figure. It was\nnot exactly a turban, though it was formed of tight rolls of linen. It\nhad the representation of a plate of gold in front, fastened on to it\nby a blue thread.\n\n\u201cThat head-dress is called the high-priest\u2019s bonnet or mitre,\u201d observed\nMrs. Temple. \u201cThere are rather different opinions regarding its exact\nshape. It cost me a good deal of thought to contrive it, and here\nagain I felt how impossible it is to give anything like a just idea of\nthe real object in a model so small as this. You see that I have not\nneglected to put a little gold plate on the front of the mitre; but I\nhad no power to form letters so minute as to represent on it what was\nengraved on that which the high-priest wore. This was \u2018HOLINESS TO THE\nLORD.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cThen the high-priest had the Lord\u2019s Name written over his brow,\u201d\nobserved Agnes. \u201cIt makes one think of the promise in the Bible, that\nsaints in heaven shall have His Name written on their foreheads.\u201d (Rev.\nxxii. 4.)\n\n\u201cAll will be \u2018_Holiness to the Lord_\u2019 in that happy place!\u201d observed\nAmy.\n\nIt was pleasanter to Dora to examine the little model before her, and\nto admire and praise her mother\u2019s skill, than to think of what was\ninscribed on the mitre worn by Aaron and his successors. It is the\nsad, sad effect of sin concealed in the heart, that it keeps those who\nindulge it from daring even to _wish_ to be holy.\n\nThe Tabernacle was now carefully taken down, piece by piece, to be\npacked in a box, ready to be carried along with the rest of their\nluggage when the family should quit their home for awhile. Every\ncurtain was neatly folded, and all the pillars carefully wrapped up\nin paper. The figure representing the high-priest was gently put back\ninto its own little box, and all the other little objects were packed\nin cotton, so as to bear without injury a little jolting on the journey\nbefore them.\n\nWith additional pleasure the young Temples now looked forward to the\ncoming Christmas season, and the long-expected visit which they were to\npay to their Aunt Theodora.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXVII.\n\nThe Birthday Gifts.\n\n\nSEVERAL months have passed away since the Temples began making their\nmodel of the Tabernacle of Israel. The leaves which were then green on\nthe trees, have become yellow, have faded and fallen; save those on\nthe evergreens, which wear a silver crusting of frost. But it is not\nto Cedar Lodge that I shall take my young readers, but to a large and\nrather plain brick house in the city of Chester. It is a house by no\nmeans beautiful to the eye, and its only look-out is into a narrow\npaved street; but still that house has a charm of its own, it is dear\nto many a heart, for its owner, Miss Theodora Clare, is the friend and\nbenefactress of the poor around. Many have entered sadly through the\ndark green door of that red-brick house, who have left it cheerfully,\nblessing the kind heart and liberal hand of its lady.\n\nIt is just two days before Christmas: on the morrow Miss Clare\u2019s Ragged\nSchool is to have its annual treat. A feast and gifts of warm socks\nor mittens knitted for each child by the lady\u2019s own hands, are not\nto form the only, or perhaps the chief attractions of the treat; the\nlittle scholars have been promised a sight of the model Tabernacle,\nwhich its young makers are to bring from their country home, about\nten miles away. Christmas Eve has been fixed upon by Miss Clare as the\ntime for her Ragged School F\u00eate, because it is the birthday of her twin\nnieces, the younger of whom is her namesake. The arrival of the Temple\nfamily is expected almost every minute, and Miss Clare sits by the\nwindow, with the red glow of a December sun upon her, glancing up with\na look of pleasant expectation whenever she hears the rattle of wheels\nalong the narrow paved street. You might guess at once by the likeness\nbetween them that Miss Clare is the sister of Mrs. Temple, though her\nfigure is a little taller, and her locks a little whiter than those of\nthe widow lady.\n\nMiss Clare is evidently thinking; she looks a little perplexed and\ndoubtful as she examines the contents of a large old-fashioned ebony\nbox which holds her little treasures. Not treasures of silver or gold;\nthere are but few indeed of such things in the possession of Theodora\nClare: her silver spoons have fed the hungry; her gold chain has paid\nfor the benches on which her ragged scholars sit, and her bracelets\nfor the books which they learn from, and the big blackboard on the\nwall. A good many pairs of stout little shoes have come out of Miss\nClare\u2019s silver tea-pot! But there is one article of jewellery which\nthe lady still possesses, and this is to her the most precious of all.\nIt is the likeness of her sister, Mrs. Temple, in a brooch, set round\nwith pearls. This was the gift of Mr. Temple on his wedding-day to the\nbridesmaid, Theodora; it is very beautiful as an ornament, and as a\nlikeness almost perfect. But not even this jewel does the generous lady\nintend to keep for herself; it is to be her birthday present on the\nfollowing day to Dora.\n\nMiss Clare has for years settled in her own mind that her god-daughter\nshould receive the precious brooch on completing the twelfth year of\nher age; it is no doubt upon this subject that perplexes her now; (for\nthe lady does look a little perplexed as she searches her old-fashioned\nbox for something which she seems to have some difficulty in finding).\nShe opens this little packet, then that little packet, then silently\nshakes her head, or murmurs \u201cNo, that will not do,\u201d as she replaces it\nin the large box. The reader knows that Dora has a twin sister, and\nthat the birthday of the one is also the birthday of the other. Miss\nClare does not like to give to Dora without also giving to Agnes, and\nas her hospitality and her charities leave her very little money for\nbuying presents, she wishes to find some suitable article already in\nher possession of which to make a birthday remembrance. But what should\nthat article be? Almost everything that would please a young girl had\nalready been given away.\n\n\u201cI have nothing\u2014nothing that can be compared in value or in beauty with\nthe brooch,\u201d said Miss Clare to herself, as she locked the box where\nshe had been vainly searching amongst locks of hair neatly wrapped in\nseparate papers, old letters, and little pictures faded and yellow\nwith time. \u201cI hope that Agnes is too sensible a girl to expect that my\nprecious brooch should be given to herself instead of to my namesake,\nwho is to me almost as a daughter; but still Agnes is the elder of the\ntwins; she is, I fear, of rather a jealous temper; her character has\nnot\u2014or had not a year ago\u2014the generosity and sweetness of that of my\nDora. I should be grieved to hurt the feelings of either of the dear\ngirls; what can I find that will really please Agnes?\u201d\n\nMiss Clare had really given the subject a good deal of consideration,\nthough apparently to little purpose, when a thought occurred to her\nmind which brought a smile of satisfaction to her kind pleasant face.\nMiss Clare rose from her seat by the window, and went to a table which\nhad in it a drawer, hidden by the neat brown cloth that hung over the\nsides. The lady lifted the cloth, drew open the drawer, and then took\nfrom it a flat parcel wrapped in a peculiar kind of yellowish paper,\nwith that scent about it which usually pervades articles which have\ncome from India.\n\n\u201cHere is the delicate little embroidered neck-scarf which was sent to\nme years ago, and which I have always thought much too fine for my\nwear,\u201d said the lady, as she opened the parcel. \u201cThis will of course be\na gift not to be compared to the brooch; but still it is pretty, very\npretty; I think that Agnes is sure to admire it.\u201d\n\nIt was indeed impossible not to admire the exquisite embroidery in gold\nand colors on the small India-muslin scarf. The natives of India excel\nin this kind of work, and the little scarf was a gem of beauty for\nrichness of pattern and brightness of hue. Miss Clare\u2019s only doubt was\nwhether such an article of dress were not too gay to be given to her\nyoung niece.\n\nMiss Clare had little time to think over this matter, for hardly had\nshe put back the pretty piece of embroidery into its paper wrapping,\nand then replaced it in the drawer, when the rattle of wheels was heard\non the stones, and a large carriage, well filled within, and with\nplenty of luggage without, was driven up to the door. Well Miss Clare\nknew the smiling eager faces which crowded the carriage window, and the\nmerry young voices which sounded through the clear cold winter air. The\nlady ran hurriedly to meet and welcome the party, and was at the open\ndoor, notwithstanding the cold of frosty December, before Mrs. Temple\nand her five children could manage to get out of the carriage in which\nthey had been too closely packed for comfort, but in which they had\nbeen very noisy and merry. All trace of whooping cough had long since\ndeparted, and the sounds which had been heard in the carriage had been\nonly those of talking, laughing, and singing!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXVIII.\n\nThe Arrival.\n\n\n\u201cMIND, coachman, mind! You must hand down that box very carefully!\u201d\nshouted out Lucius to the driver, who was now engaged in taking down\nthe luggage. The boy had been the first of the party to spring out\nof the carriage, but he was the last to enter the house, for all his\nthoughts seemed to be taken up by the long, flat deal box which had\nbeen put under the special care of the coachman, with many a charge to\nsee that no harm should come to it on the journey. Had the box been\na cradle containing a baby, it could hardly have been more gently and\ncarefully received from the coachman\u2019s hands, and then carried up the\ndoor-steps and into the red-brick house by Lucius. Did it not hold\nthe result of the labor of many weeks!\u2014was there not in it the work\ncompleted by the family\u2019s united efforts, the beautiful model of the\nTabernacle made by the children of Israel!\n\n\u201cOh, auntie, here is our great work\u2014our model! Where shall we set it\nup? Have you a table ready? It is all finished\u2014every loop! Oh, you must\nsee it! you must see it!\u201d Such were the exclamations which burst from\nthe children as Lucius appeared in the hall, laden with the long, flat\ndeal box.\n\nMiss Clare had not yet seen the model, though she had heard a great\ndeal about it, and had given notice to many friends and neighbors of\nthe little exhibition of it,[B] to be held in her house through the\nfollowing week, for the benefit of her school. She was amused at the\neager impatience shown by the youthful workers. Except Agnes, who\ntook the matter more quietly, none of the Temples cared even to warm\nthemselves by the blazing fire after their wintry journey until the\nmodel Tabernacle had been unpacked from its box.\n\n\u201cPlease, auntie, please don\u2019t look at it till it\u2019s all set up!\u201d\nexclaimed Elsie, in a tone of entreaty. \u201cYou can talk to mamma, you\nknow, while we are unrolling the little curtains (I did the Turkey-red\ncurtains)\u2014and fastening them up on the gilded pillars by the wee wee\nloops which are made of silver thread!\u201d\n\nMiss Clare was quite willing to indulge the humor of her young guests,\nso that she did not even remain in the room while the Tabernacle was\nbeing put up on the table set apart for the purpose. She took her\nsister, Mrs. Temple, up-stairs, and helped her to take off her cloak\nand furs, and talked over many subjects with her, while the young\npeople below were busily engaged with their model. It was not until\nnearly two hours had elapsed, and after the party had all partaken of a\ndinner of roast beef and plum-pudding, that Miss Clare re-entered her\nown sitting-room to have her first sight of the wonderful work.\n\nFor wonderful it was in the eyes of its youthful contrivers, who knew\nthe trouble which it had cost them to finish and fix those numerous\npillars and curtains, with sockets and loops. The Temples regarded\ntheir model as a triumph of art and patience, much as the builder of\none of the Pyramids may have regarded his own gigantic work. Miss Clare\nwas expected to look and feel a good deal more astonished than she\ncould in sincerity do; but if she was not astonished, at least she was\npleased, and showed that she was so.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a pity, auntie, that you can\u2019t see more of my Turkey-red\ncurtains; I wish they\u2019d been the top ones,\u201d cried Elsie, lifting up a\ncorner of the merino covering to show her own work beneath.\n\n\u201cThese linen curtains round the court of the Tabernacle are neatly,\nvery neatly made,\u201d observed Miss Clare; \u201cwith so many silver loops they\nmust have required a great deal of patience in the worker.\u201d\n\nAmy colored with pleasure at the praise; she had not expected her own\nshare of the work to attract much notice. She now silently drew her\naunt\u2019s attention to the pretty little gilded pillars upon which her\ncurtains were hung.\n\n\u201cBut the beauty part\u2014the real beauty part\u2014is the \u2019broidery, the inner\ncurtains, and the veil!\u201d exclaimed Elsie. \u201cOh, auntie, you will be\nastonished at them. Just stoop down and look in\u2014just look in! We\u2019ve\nmanaged to leave the front open, and the veil is half-drawn aside, so\nthat you can see the inner part quite well. No one could see the inner\npart of the real Tabernacle, you know; but then ours is only a model.\u201d\n\nThe lady stooped, as requested, and looked through the space between\nthe front pillars, not only into the outer Tabernacle, but beyond the\nveil into what, in the model, represented the Holy of holies. Dora, who\nhad for months been looking forward to this moment, listened eagerly to\nhear what her darling aunt would say of her work.\n\nMiss Clare, it will be remembered, had that day been examining a lovely\nspecimen of some of the most finished embroidery to be found in any\npart of the world. Dora\u2019s work was clever, regarded as that of a girl\nnot twelve years of age, who had had to contrive her own pattern; but\nit was, of course, very poor compared to that on the Indian scarf.\n\n\u201cIs it not splendid \u2019broidery?\u201d persisted Elsie, who wished others to\nshare her own unbounded admiration for the work of a favorite sister.\n\n\u201cIt is nice,\u201d said Aunt Theodora, quietly, \u201cbut wants a little more\nscarlet, I think.\u201d\n\nAnd was this all that could be said of that which had cost Dora\nhours of thought, and many hours of patient labor\u2014these few words of\nqualified praise! Dora was bitterly disappointed, far more disappointed\nthan Agnes, whose curtains, whether mohair or merino, seemed to win no\nnotice at all. There was good reason why Dora should feel pain which\nAgnes was spared. It was not time and labor only which the younger twin\nhad given to gain success; she had made a sacrifice of conscience,\nshe had forfeited her own self-respect, she had lost the blessing of\nconfidential intercourse with her mother, and all pleasure and comfort\nin prayer! Dora had given up all this, and for what? To hear the\nobservation, by no means unkindly uttered, \u201cIt is nice, but wants a\nlittle more scarlet.\u201d\n\nIf Dora had ever believed that in working her embroidery she had really\nbeen laboring for anything higher than earthly pleasure or human\npraise, the extreme vexation which she now experienced must surely have\nundeceived her. Why should she care so much for what was said of her\nperformance if her real object was but to please her Heavenly Master?\nAgnes and Amy, who had worked from motives of duty and love, were safe\nfrom any such keen disappointment. They both looked with pleasure on\nthe completed model, in forming which they had taken inferior parts;\nwhile Dora had to walk to the window to hide from the eyes of her\nfamily the mortification which she felt.\n\nThat day was a very happy one to all the members of the Temple\nfamily, Dora alone excepted. She felt a kind of dread of the evening\nconversation which she knew that she would have with her aunt. The\neve of her last birthday Dora remembered as, perhaps, the happiest\ntime of her life. Aunt Theodora had come to sit with her, and talk\nto her of her coming birthday\u2014a new milestone, as she called it, on\nthe pilgrim\u2019s path towards heaven. Dora had on that evening opened\nher heart to her aunt, and the two had loved each other more fondly\nthan they ever had loved before, and their parting embrace had been so\nsweet that Dora had felt that she could never forget it. Miss Clare was\ncertain to come again this evening into her room\u2014in this house Dora\nhad a little room to herself\u2014and must the niece act the hypocrite\u2019s\npart to an aunt so loving and true; must the girl so trusted and loved\nmake a show of openness while concealing a secret from her aunt, which,\nif confessed, must lower her in the eyes of that tender relative and\nfriend?\n\nMiss Clare did indeed come that night, as Dora had expected that she\nwould come. The girl soon found herself sitting on a stool with her\narms resting on her aunt\u2019s knee, as they had rested twelve months\nbefore; and she heard the same dear voice speaking to her of holy\nthings, as she had heard on that well-remembered night. The room was\nthe same, the furniture, the pictures were all the same, but Dora felt\nin her own heart a miserable change. Half a dozen times was the poor\ngirl on the point of laying her head on her aunt\u2019s knee, and sobbing\nforth a full confession to relieve her burdened heart. But to own\nrepeated falsehood and long deceit to one herself so truthful, to lose\nthe good opinion of one whose regard she so greatly valued, oh! Dora\ncould not muster up courage sufficient for this!\n\n\u201cAnd now that you are making a new start in life\u2019s journey, my child,\u201d\nsuch were the aunt\u2019s concluding words as she rose to depart, \u201cgive\nyourself anew to the best of Masters, the most tender of Friends. Ask\nHis blessing upon all that you do: without that blessing our best works\nare but like building on sand, or writing on water\u2014all end in vanity\nand vexation of spirit. The great lesson taught us by the history of\nancient Israel is this: the path of obedience is the path of safety and\nhappiness also. When God\u2019s people followed where He led, and did what\nHe commanded, then were their hearts filled with joy, and their harps\ntuned to glad songs of triumph; but when the Israelites turned aside to\npaths of disobedience, sorrow followed close upon sin; they hung their\nharps on the willows, and, exiles from their beautiful land, they wept\nwhen they remembered the blessings which would still have been theirs,\nhad they not forsaken their God!\u201d\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[B] A. L. O. E. remembers attending, many years ago, exactly such an\nexhibition at the house of a friend, a model of the Tabernacle made by\na lady and her children for some charitable purpose.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXIX.\n\nDisappointment.\n\n\nThe birthday of the twins had arrived; but the sun rises late on the\ntwenty-fourth of December, and Dora was up, dressing by candlelight,\nlong before his first beams shone on the sheet of pure white snow which\nhad fallen during the night. It might be supposed that Dora\u2019s thoughts\nwould be on the words of advice which she had heard on the previous\nnight; but though these words had made some impression at the time, it\nwas by no means upon them that the girl\u2019s mind was running when she\nawoke in the morning. Dora was thinking of her embroidery work\u2014that\nwork of which she had been so proud, that work which had cost her so\ndear. Nothing that Miss Clare had said dwelt so much on the memory of\nher niece as the simple observation, \u201cIt wants a little more scarlet, I\nthink.\u201d\n\nFor on the mantelpiece of the room now occupied by Dora, there chanced\nto stand a glass bottle, corked and labelled; and by the light of her\ncandle Dora had noticed that \u201cSCARLET INK\u201d was printed upon the label.\nThe sight of that little bottle had roused in the mind of the girl new\nhopes, and again turned her energies into the channel of work.\n\n\u201cMy supply of scarlet silk ran short, and I was not able to get\nanother skein at the shop,\u201d thought Dora. \u201cAunt is quite right, there\nis not enough of scarlet mixed with the purple and blue; it is that\nwhich spoils the effect of my curtains. I wonder that no one noticed\nthat before! But I have a skein of white silk with me, and why should\nI not dye it myself with that beautiful scarlet ink? This is a capital\nidea! The school children do not come till the afternoon; I should\nhave time to dye my silk before breakfast, and after breakfast to work\nenough scarlet into my pattern to give a brilliant effect to all that\npart which is most easily seen. How pleased Aunt Theodora will be to\nfind that I have taken her hint, and that I grudge no extra trouble to\nmake my work complete! How very lucky it is that she put that ink into\nmy room!\u201d\n\nDora actually forgot both her prayers and her Scripture reading on that\nbirthday morning, in her impatience to get down-stairs and quietly\nremove her inner veil and curtains from the model, before any other\nmember of the family should enter the room where it was kept. With\nrough hair, and dress only half-buttoned, Dora noiselessly opened her\ndoor, and then crept down the staircase, and into the sitting-room in\nwhich the Tabernacle stood, covered from the dust by large sheets of\nsilver paper. There was no one in the room except the housemaid, who\nwas employed in opening the shutters to let in the light of morning.\n\nThe model, as we know, was made to be taken to pieces at will; but\nas Dora\u2019s set of curtains was the innermost of all, it cost her some\ntime and trouble to remove them. She pursued her occupation, while the\nhousemaid went on with that of lighting the fire and dusting the room,\nand was at last able to disengage the whole of the embroidered portion\nof the drapery of the little Tabernacle. With this Dora returned to her\nown apartment, and she laid her work on the pretty little table which\nher aunt had placed for her convenience.\n\n\u201cI must be quick about the dyeing,\u201d said Dora to herself, \u201cfor I can\nhear Lucius whistling up-stairs in the passage, and little Elsie\nrunning about in the room just over my head. The family is now all\nastir, and in a quarter of an hour the prayer-bell will ring. If I\ndon\u2019t dye my silk scarlet at once I shall be sadly delayed in my work,\nfor I cannot, of course, use it for sewing until it is perfectly dry.\u201d\n\nSo Dora took the bottle of ink down from its place on the mantelpiece,\nand in a great hurry set about removing the sealing-wax which covered\nthe cork, for the bottle had not yet been opened. It was a tolerably\neasy matter to break off the edges of the red wax, but Dora did not\nfind it easy at all to pull out the cork, which was low in the narrow\nneck of the bottle, and happened to be a very tight fit.\n\n\u201cDear! dear! how troublesome this is!\u201d exclaimed Dora, hunting about\nfor her stout pair of nail scissors to help her in forcing out the\nobstinate cork.\n\n\u201cGood morning, Dora dear, many happy returns of the day to you!\u201d cried\nthe merry voice of Elsie, as she tapped at the door of her sister.\n\n\u201cThank you, darling, don\u2019t come in now; I\u2019ll soon be down-stairs\u2014I\u2019m\nnot quite ready!\u201d called out Dora, who had just succeeded in finding\nthe scissors. She heard the little feet patter down the stairs.\n\n\u201cHappy birthday to you, Dora! Mind you\u2019re not late, Miss\nTwelve-years-old!\u201d This time it was the voice of Lucius at the door.\n\n\u201cNo, no, I\u2019ll not be late; I\u2019ll be down in ten minutes!\u201d cried Dora,\ndigging her scissors vigorously into the cork. The clatter of Lucius\u2019s\nboots showed that he had followed little Elsie.\n\n\u201cOh, this cork, this tiresome cork!\u201d exclaimed Dora; \u201cthere, it\u2019s out\nat last;\u201d and setting the opened bottle on the table, she turned round\nin a great flurry to get from her box the skein of silk which was to be\nchanged from white to scarlet.\n\n\u201cMore haste, less speed.\u201d Dora was not the first who has proved the\ntruth of that proverb. She whisked round so rapidly that her dress\nstruck the top of the bottle which she had carelessly set down in\na place that was not very safe. The bottle was knocked over, but\nit fell upon something soft which lay on the table, so that it was\nneither broken, nor did it make enough noise in falling to attract the\nattention of Dora. It was not till she had found the skein (which she\nhad some trouble in doing), that on turning back to the table she\nperceived the mischief caused by her hasty movement.\n\nWhat a start and exclamation of distress were given by poor Dora when\nshe saw on the table her embroidery lying actually under the overturned\nbottle, and soaked through and through with the scarlet ink which had\nflowed in abundance from it!\n\nDora stood for a moment as if rooted to the spot, scarcely able\nto believe her own eyes. She then darted forward, caught up the\nhalf-emptied bottle in one hand, and the stained, dripping linen in the\nother. The first glance at the embroidery showed the poor girl that the\nmischief done was utterly beyond repairing; in one minute the fruit of\nall her long toil had been completely destroyed!\n\n\u201cOh, it is all my own fault\u2014all my own fault\u2014it could not have\nprospered!\u201d cried out Dora, in a loud tone of anguish, as she put down\nfirst the bottle, then the embroidery, and then, hiding her face with\nher scarlet-stained fingers, she burst into a passion of weeping.\n\nThat cry, that weeping, reached the ears of her aunt, who had just\napproached her door, carrying with her the destined gifts for the\ntwins\u2014the Indian scarf, and the brooch with the miniature set in pearls.\n\n\u201cMy darling girl, what is the matter?\u201d exclaimed Miss Clare, opening\nthe door in alarm. There was no need to repeat the unanswered question;\nthe bottle, the little heap of embroidered linen dripping with scarlet\nink, told their own story plainly enough. Miss Clare saw the nature\nof the accident which had happened, and, with kind sympathy for her\nniece\u2019s great disappointment, folded her affectionately in her arms.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXX.\n\nConfession.\n\n\n\u201cIT is vexatious, my Dora, very vexatious,\u201d said Miss Clare, in a tone\nof condolence; \u201cit is trying to you, after all the pains which you have\nbestowed on your work, to see that work suddenly spoiled. But still\ntake comfort, dear child, in the thought that no labor undertaken for\nour Master can really be lost.\u201d\n\nDora sobbed more bitterly than before, for she knew that hers had not\nbeen labor undertaken for the Master, and she felt that her time and\ntoil had been worse than lost.\n\nMiss Clare did all that she could to comfort her favorite niece. She\nshowed Dora the beautiful brooch which she herself valued so greatly;\nshe told her that she had brought it as a birthday remembrance; but,\nmuch to the lady\u2019s surprise, Dora only shook her head sadly, and sobbed\nforth, \u201cNot for me\u2014not for me! Oh, that model, I wish that I never\nhad touched it\u2014I wish that I had never set a stitch in one of those\ncurtains!\u201d\n\n\u201cI see that you are distressed, very naturally distressed, by the\nmishap which has befallen your curtains, fearing that thereby the\nwhole model may be spoilt,\u201d observed Theodora. \u201cYou are thinking of\nthe disappointment of your brother and sisters, of the Ragged-school\nchildren who are coming to-day, of my friends who are invited to see\nthe model. You think that there is no time to repair the effects of the\nspilling the scarlet ink; but I think that I see a way to remedy the\nmischief;\u201d and Miss Clare, as she spoke, placed before the weeping girl\nher beautiful embroidered scarf. \u201cI had intended to give this to Agnes\nwhen I gave you the miniature brooch, but I will now alter my plan. I\nwill try to find out, or purchase, some other remembrance for Agnes;\nand, with a little alteration, do you not think, my sweet girl, that\nthis work will do nicely for the inner curtains and veil?\u201d\n\n\u201cA thousand times better than mine could have done!\u201d exclaimed Dora,\ndarting a glance of almost fierce dislike at the embroidery, now\nstained and marred, which she had once surveyed with such proud\nadmiration.\n\n\u201cNo, indeed,\u201d said Miss Clare, very kindly; \u201cfor though the Indian\nscarf may be\u2014certainly is in itself more beautiful than your curtains,\nwe cannot see in it the same token of patient perseverance in making\nwhat was intended to be a humble offering of love to the Lord.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Aunt Theodora, I can stand this no longer!\u201d exclaimed Dora, almost\nchoking with the violence of her emotion; \u201cyou must know all, I can\nhide it no more; you must hear what a naughty, naughty girl I have\nbeen!\u201d\n\nThen, as well as she could through her tears and her sobs, Dora\nrelieved herself of the burden of concealment which had become at\nlast intolerable. She told everything to her aunt\u2014the first fault, the\nbreaking of the fourth commandment; then the falsehood, the deceit\nwhich had followed, for when did an unrepented sin ever stand alone!\nDora concluded by passionately exclaiming, \u201cYou cannot, you must not,\ngive me the brooch\u2014Agnes has deserved it much better; she has been\nconquering her temper and doing all that she can to please mamma, while\nI have been only a hypocrite! Please give the brooch to Agnes, and the\nscarf for the model; I could not bear now to take either\u2014I who have\nonly deserved to be punished!\u201d\n\nMiss Clare was surprised, pained, disappointed by what she now heard;\nyet there was comfort to her in seeing that now at least her poor\nniece was heartily repenting.\n\n\u201cI cannot tell you, my child, how thankful I am that this accident has\nhappened to your work, and that you have been led to speak out bravely\nat last,\u201d said her aunt, putting her arm round Dora, and drawing her\ntenderly towards her, so that the poor girl could weep on her bosom.\n\n\u201cThen you don\u2019t despise me\u2014you won\u2019t give me up?\u201d murmured Dora, crying\nstill, but much more softly.\n\n\u201cGive you up\u2014never!\u201d cried the aunt, and she pressed a kiss upon Dora\u2019s\nbrow. \u201cIt may be a question, indeed, whether I had not better reserve\nthe brooch till next birthday.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I never could take it, never!\u201d cried Dora, excitedly; \u201clet it be\ngiven to Agnes.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you think, Dora, that by giving up the brooch you are winning a\nclaim to forgiveness\u2014that by this sacrifice you are atoning for what\nyou have done wrong?\u201d asked Miss Clare. \u201cIf so, I am bound to tell you\nthat you are mistaken.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, aunt,\u201d replied Dora, for the first time raising her eyes, heavy\nwith weeping, and looking her godmother full in the face; \u201cI know\nthat nothing that I can do can atone for my sin\u2014that there is but one\nAtonement; but I feel as if I could not take the brooch which you meant\nto give to a good girl, and which I have so little\u201d\u2014 Dora could not\nfinish the sentence, tears came again, and she hid her face on the\nbosom of her aunt.\n\nMiss Clare hesitated no longer. She felt that it would deeply impress\non the mind of Dora the painful lesson which she was learning, if she\nsaw the brooch in the possession of her elder twin. What Theodora had\nheard from Mrs. Temple of the marked improvement in the character of\nAgnes, convinced her that she was the sister who best deserved to\nreceive the miniature of her mother. Miss Clare made a sacrifice of her\nown inclination in thus deciding to follow her judgment, but she was in\nthe habit of doing what she thought right, instead of what she thought\npleasant.\n\n\u201cI will confess all to mamma, now, just as I have done to you\u2014I won\u2019t\nbe a hypocrite any longer,\u201d murmured Dora, as soon as she had recovered\npower to speak.\n\n\u201cAnd there is Another to whom my child must also confess,\u201d said Miss\nClare, still with her arm round her niece, still with Dora\u2019s head\non her breast; \u201cthere is One who is ready freely to forgive every\npenitent who approaches the Mercy-seat pleading the merits of Christ.\nWe have no power to remove one spot from our souls;\u201d the eyes of Miss\nClare chanced to rest, as she spoke, on the embroidery, stained and\ndestroyed; \u201cbut there is the Lord\u2019s promise to comfort the broken and\ncontrite heart, \u2018Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as\nsnow\u2014though they be red as crimson, they shall be as wool.\u2019\u201d\n\nDora and her aunt knelt down together and together prayed, but in\nsilence. When Dora rose from her knees, though she was still very sad\nand subdued, there was a peace in her heart, a sense of sin forgiven,\nwhich she had not experienced for months.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nXXI.\n\nConclusion.\n\n\n\u201cDORA is late\u2014shockingly late\u2014on her birthday too! I _am_ surprised!\u201d\nexclaimed Elsie, who was in a fidget of impatience to present her\nsister with a marker which she had made.\n\n\u201cAnd Aunt has kept us twenty\u2014more than twenty minutes waiting for\nprayers!\u201d cried Amy; \u201cI am surprised, for she always is so punctual.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd Agnes has employed the time mending my gloves, the most surprising\nthing of all,\u201d laughed Lucius.\n\n\u201cWhy so surprising?\u201d asked Elsie.\n\n\u201cBecause a few months ago Agnes was much more given to picking holes\nthan to sewing them up,\u201d answered the boy. \u201cI liked to plague her and\nshe to tease me, and I thought that we should always live a kind of\ncat-and-dog life together. But now we\u2019re going to be grand allies,\u201d\nadded the merry boy, clapping Agnes upon the shoulder; \u201cby your example\nyou\u2019ll help to mend my manners as well as my gloves!\u201d\n\nLucius spoke in his saucy playful way, but \u201cthere\u2019s many a true word\nspoken in jest,\u201d and he was but expressing what all the family had\nobserved, that there was gradual but steady improvement in the outer\nconduct of the once peevish and selfish girl.\n\nBut the sharpest conflict of Agnes upon her twelfth birthday had been\nagainst a jealous spirit within. From a few words dropped by her aunt\non the previous evening, Agnes felt sure that her mother\u2019s likeness\nwould be given as a birthday present to one of the twins, and she had\nnot a doubt that the younger would be the one thus favored.\n\n\u201cIt was just the same last birthday,\u201d thought Agnes with bitterness:\n\u201cI am given some makeshift, Dora has what is really of value. It is\nrather hard that she should always be preferred before her elder\nsister because she is called after my aunt, whilst I am named after\nmy mother. But oh! how wicked is this feeling of jealousy, how sinful\nthese unkind and covetous thoughts! Lord! help me to overcome this\nsecret temptation, and to feel pleasure, real pleasure, when I see Dora\nwearing that which is so precious to us both!\u201d\n\nAs the thought, or rather the prayer, passed through the mind of Agnes,\nthe door opened and Miss Clare entered, followed by Dora. The lady held\nthe beautiful brooch in her hand, and going up to the elder twin whom\nshe had not met before on that morning, with a kiss and a whispered\nblessing, fastened the precious jewel on her breast.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThat twenty-fourth day of December was a day long remembered with\ndelight by many a poor child in Chester, for large was the number of\nscholars (it would be scarcely just to call them ragged) who enjoyed\nthe feast and the varied amusements provided for them in the large red\nhouse by their benefactress, Miss Clare.\n\nSpecially was the beautiful, the wonderful model which the young\ngentlefolk had made, the theme of many a conversation in the low\ncourts and lanes from which the guests had been gathered. Worn, weary\nmothers, at their sewing or washing, paused, needle in hand, or with\narms whitened with soap-suds, to hear of the golden pillars, and silver\nloops, and above all of the splendid embroidery that adorned the inner\npart of the model, that part which, as Miss Clare had told them, was\ncalled the Holy of holies.\n\n\u201cAnd the young ladies looked just as pleased and happy as we,\u201d a\nbare-footed little urchin observed at the end of a lively narration of\nall the wonders that he had seen; \u201call but one, and her eyes were red\nas if she\u2019d been a-crying,\u2014what could _she_ have had to make her cry?\nBut she smiled, too, when we clapped our hands and shouted for joy as\nwe saw the beautiful tent!\u201d\n\nWhat delighted their eyes, and pleased their fancy, was what naturally\nmade the greatest impression on the ragged scholars who had stared in\nwondering admiration on the model of the Tabernacle of Israel. But the\nconcluding words of a little address made by Miss Clare to the children\nwere what sank deepest into the memories and hearts of her twin nieces.\n\n\u201cI have described to you, my dear young pupils, the various parts of\nthis model,\u201d she said: \u201clet me now briefly point out a few lessons\nwhich we should all carry away. In Israel\u2019s Tabernacle we see a TYPE of\nevery Christian, in whose body, as St. Paul tells us, God\u2019s Holy Spirit\ndeigns to dwell (1 Cor. iii. 16). In that living Tabernacle, the lowly\nheart is the Holy of holies, because it is cleansed by the blood of\nsprinkling, in it the Commandments of God are treasured, and the light\nof His love shines within. But as the Tabernacle was not intended to\nlast forever, but to give place to a far more splendid building, so is\nit with these bodies of ours. As Solomon\u2019s magnificent temple, glorious\nand fair, and firm on its deep foundation, far surpassed the Tabernacle\nmade to be moved from place to place; so will the glorified bodies of\nsaints, when they are raised from their graves, surpass these weak,\nmortal bodies in which they served their Lord upon earth. For what\nsaith the Apostle St. Paul:\u2014\u2018WE KNOW THAT IF OUR EARTHLY HOUSE OF THIS\nTABERNACLE WERE DISSOLVED, WE HAVE A BUILDING OF GOD, A HOUSE NOT MADE\nWITH HANDS, ETERNAL IN THE HEAVENS.\u2019\u201d (2 Cor. v. 1.)\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nSHORT STORIES\n\nBY THE SAME AUTHOR.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE BEAR.\n\n\n\u201cHE is just like a bear!\u201d that is a very common expression when we\ntalk of some ill-tempered man or boy, who takes a pleasure in saying\nrude things, and who seems bent upon making every one near him as\nuncomfortable as he can.\n\nBut we may be unjust even to bears. Could you have gone to wintry\nGreenland, and seen Mrs. Bruin amidst her family of little white cubs,\neach scarcely bigger than a rabbit, you would have agreed that a bear\ncan be a kind and tender mother, and provide for her four-footed babies\na snug and comfortable home.\n\nYou would, indeed, have had some difficulty in finding Bear Hall, or\nBear Hole, as we rather should call it. Perhaps in wandering over the\ndreary snow-covered plains of Greenland, you might have come upon a\nlittle hole in the snow, edged with hoar-frost, without ever guessing\nthat the hole was formed by the warm breath of an Arctic bear, or that\nMrs. Bruin and her promising family were living in a burrow beneath\nyou.[C] How wonderfully does Instinct teach this rough, strange-looking\ncreature to provide for her cubs! The mother-bear scrapes and burrows\nunder the snow, till she has formed a small but snug home, where\nshe dwells with her baby-bears during the sharpest cold of an Arctic\nwinter. So wonderfully has Providence cared for the comfort even of\nwild beasts, that the mother needs no food for three months! She is\nso fat when she settles down in her under-snow home, that her own\nplumpness serves her instead of breakfast, dinner, and supper; so that\nwhen at last she comes out to break her long fast, she is not starved,\nbut has merely grown thin.\n\nI need hardly remind my reader that the Arctic bear is provided by\nNature with a thick, warm, close-fitting coat of white fur; and the\nsnow itself, strange as it seems to say so, serves as a blanket to keep\nthe piercing air from her narrow den.\n\nYes, Mrs. Bruin was a happy mother though her cell was small to hold\nher and her children, and the cold above was so terrible that water\nfroze in the dwellings of men even in a room with a fire. Mrs Bruin\nfound enough of amusement in licking her cubs, which was her fashion of\nwashing, combing, and dressing, and making them look like respectable\nbears. She let them know that she loved them dearly in that kind of\nlanguage which little ones, whether they be babies or bear-cubs, so\nsoon understand.\n\nBut when March came, Mrs. Bruin began to grow hungry, and think that it\nwas full time to scramble out of her under-snow den, and look out for\nsome fish, or a fat young seal, to eat for her breakfast. The weather\nwas still most fearfully cold, and the red sun seemed to have no power\nat all, save to light up an endless waste of snow, in which not a tree\nwas to be seen save here and there a stunted fir, half crusted over\nwith ice.\n\nSafe, however, and pretty warm in their shaggy furs, over the dreary\nwilds walked Mrs. Bruin, and the young bears trotted at her heels.\nThey went along for some time, when they came to a round swelling in\nthe snow; at least so a little hut appeared to the eyes of a bear.\nIndeed, had our own eyes looked on that snow-covered hillock, we should\nscarcely at first have guessed that it was a human dwelling.\n\nPerhaps some scent of food came up from the chimney-hole, which made\nMrs. Bruin think about breakfast, for she went close up to the hut,\nthen trotted around it\u2014her rough white nose in the air. She then\nuttered a low short growl, which made her cubs scramble up to her side.\n\nOh, with what terror the sound of that growl filled the heart of\npoor Aneekah, the Esquimaux woman, who was with her little children\ncrouching together for warmth in that hut!\n\n\u201cDid you hear that noise?\u201d exclaimed Aleekan, the eldest boy, stopping\nsuddenly in the midst of a tale which he had been telling.\n\n\u201cThere\u2019s a bear outside!\u201d cried all the younger children at once.\n\nAneekah rose, and hastily strengthened the fastenings of her rude door\nwith a thick piece of rope, while her children breathlessly listened to\ncatch again the sound which had filled them with fear.\n\n\u201cThe bear is climbing up outside!\u201d cried little Vraga, clinging in\nterror to her mother. \u201cI can hear the scraping of its claws!\u201d\n\nThere was an anxious pause for several minutes, all listening too\nintently to break the silence by even a word. Then, to the great\nalarm of the Esquimaux, the white head of an Arctic bear could be\nplainly seen, looking down upon them from above. The animal had, after\nclambering up to the top of the hut, enlarged the hole which had been\nleft in the roof to let out the smoke.\n\n\u201cWe\u2019re lost!\u201d exclaimed Aneekah.\n\n\u201cO mother let us pray! Will not God help us?\u201d cried one of the\nchildren.[D]\n\nThe prayer could have been but a very short one, but the presence of\nmind which the mother showed may have been given as the instant answer\nto it. Aneekah caught up a piece of moss, stuck it on a stick, set it\non fire, and held the blazing mass as close as she could to the nose of\nthe bear.\n\nNow fire was a new thing to Mrs. Bruin, and so was smoke; and if the\nbear had frightened the Esquimaux, the Esquimaux now frightened the\nbear. With a snort and a shake of her shaggy fur, the animal drew back\nher head, and, to the surprise and delight of the trembling family,\nthey soon heard their unwelcome visitor scrambling down faster than\nshe had clambered up. Mrs. Bruin trotted off to seek her breakfast\nelsewhere; let us hope that she and her cubs found a fine supply of\nfish frozen in a cleft in some iceberg floating away in the sea. At any\nrate they never again were seen near the Esquimaux home.\n\nDo you wonder how the poor Esquimaux child had learned the value of\nprayer? Would any one go to the dreary wilds of Greenland to carry the\nblessed gospel to the natives of that desolate shore?\n\nYes, even to \u201cGreenland\u2019s icy mountains\u201d have missionaries gone from\nbrighter, happier lands. There are pastors now laboring amongst the\npoor Esquimaux, for they know that the soul of each savage is precious.\nThe light of the gospel is shining now in Esquimaux homes, and, amidst\nall their hardships, sufferings, and dangers, Esquimaux have learned to\nshow pious trust when in peril, and thankfulness after deliverance. It\nis from the pen of a missionary that we have learned the story which I\nhave just related of the Esquimaux woman and the white bear.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[C] See \u201cHomes without Hands.\u201d\n\n[D] This incident of the intrusion of the bear, and the exclamation of\nthe child, has been given as a fact.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE TIGER-CUB.\n\n\n\u201cREALLY, Captain Guise, you need trouble yourself no more in the\nmatter; I am quite able to take care of myself!\u201d cried young Cornet\nStanley, with a little impatience in his tone.\n\nThe speaker was a blue-eyed lad, whose fresh complexion showed that he\nhad not been long in the burning climate of India. Cornet Stanley had\nindeed but lately left an English home, for he was little more than\nsixteen years of age. With very anxious feelings, and many tears,\nhad Mrs. Stanley parted with her rosy-cheeked Norman. \u201cHe is so very\nyoung,\u201d as she said, \u201cto meet all the trials and temptations of an\nofficer\u2019s life in India!\u201d\n\nMrs. Stanley\u2019s great comfort was that her Norman would have a tried\nand steady friend in her cousin, Captain Guise, who would, she felt\nsure, act a father\u2019s part to her light-hearted boy. Young Stanley was\nappointed to the same regiment as that of the captain; and almost as\nsoon as the cornet had landed in India, he proceeded up country to join\nit. The season of the year was that which is in India called the cold\nweather, when many Europeans live in tents, moving from place to place,\nthat they may amuse themselves with hunting and shooting. Norman\nStanley, who had never before chased anything larger than a rabbit,\nwas delighted to make one of a party with two of his brother officers,\nand enjoy with them for a while a wild, free life in the jungle. There\nwould have been no harm at all in this, had Norman\u2019s new companions\nbeen sober and steady young men; but Dugsley and Danes were noted as\nthe two wildest officers in the regiment.\n\nCaptain Guise was also out in camp, and his tent was pitched not very\nfar from that of his young friend Norman. The captain took a warm\ninterest in young Stanley, not only for the sake of his parents, but\nalso for his own; for the bright rosy face and frank manner of the\nlad inclined all who met him to feel kindly towards him. It was with\nno small regret that Captain Guise, on the very first evening when\nthe officers all dined together, saw that young face flushed not with\nhealth, but with wine, and that frank manner become more boisterous\nthan it had been earlier in the day. Not that Norman Stanley could\nhave been called drunk, but he had taken a little more wine than was\ngood for him to take; and his friend knew but too well in what such a\nbeginning of life in India was likely to end.\n\nThe captain was a good and sensible man, and he could not see his young\nrelative led into folly and sin without warning him of the danger into\nwhich he was heedlessly running. Captain Guise, on the following day,\ntherefore, visited Norman in his tent, and tried to put him on his\nguard against too close a friendship with Dugsley and Danes, and to\nshow him the peril of being drawn by little and little into intemperate\nhabits.\n\nNorman Stanley, who thought himself quite a man because he could wear a\nuniform and give commands to gray-bearded soldiers, was a little hurt\nat any one\u2019s thinking of troubling him with advice. Captain Guise had,\nhowever, spoken so kindly that the lad could not take real offence at\nhis words, but only tried to show his friend that his warning was not\nat all needed.\n\n\u201cI shall never disgrace myself by becoming a drunkard, you may be\ncertain of that,\u201d said the youth; \u201cno one despises a sot more than I\ndo, and I shall never be one. As for taking an extra glass of champagne\nafter a long day\u2019s shooting, that is quite a different thing, and\nnobody can object to it.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut the extra glass, Norman, is often like the thin point of the\nwedge,\u201d said the captain; \u201cit is followed by another and another, till\na ruinous habit may be formed.\u201d\n\n\u201cI tell you that I shall never get into habits of drinking,\u201d\ninterrupted young Stanley. Then, as he took up his gun to go out\nshooting, the cornet uttered the words with which this little story\ncommences.\n\nCaptain Guise did not feel satisfied. He saw that his young friend\nwas relying on the strength of his own resolutions, and in so doing\nwas leaning on a reed. He could not, however, say anything more just\nthen, and Norman Stanley started a new subject to give a turn to the\nconversation.\n\n\u201cBy-the-by, Captain Guise, I\u2019ve not shown you the prize which I\ncaptured yesterday. As Dugsley and I were beating about in the jungle,\nwhat should we light upon but a tiger-cub\u2014a real little beauty, pretty\nand playful as a young kitten.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat did you make of it?\u201d asked the captain.\n\n\u201cOh, I\u2019ve tethered it to the tree yonder,\u201d said Norman, pointing to\none not a hundred yards distant. \u201cBy good luck I had a dog\u2019s chain and\ncollar which fitted the little creature exactly. I mean to try if I\ncan\u2019t rear it, and keep a tiger-cub as a pet.\u201d\n\n\u201cA tiger-cub is rather a dangerous pet, I should say,\u201d observed\nCaptain Guise, with a smile.\n\n\u201cOh, not a bit of it!\u201d cried Norman, lightly; \u201cthe little brute has no\nfangs to bite with, and if it had, the chain is quite strong enough to\u201d\u2014\n\nThe sentence was never finished, for while the last word was yet on the\nsmiling lips of the youth, the sudden sound of a savage roar from a\nneighboring thicket made him start, turn pale, and grasp his gun more\nfirmly. Forth from the shade of the bushes sprang a large tigress. In\na minute, with a few bounds, she had cleared the space between herself\nand her cub! Snap went the chain, as the strong wild beast caught up\nher little one in her mouth; and before either Norman or the captain\n(who had snatched up a second gun) had time to take aim, the tigress\nwas off again, bearing away her rescued cub to the jungle!\n\n\u201cThat was a sight worth seeing!\u201d exclaimed Captain Guise; \u201cI never\nbeheld a more splendid creature in all my life!\u201d\n\nNorman, who was very young, and quite unaccustomed to having a tiger\nso near him with no iron cage between them, looked as though he had\nnot enjoyed the sight at all. \u201cI should not care to meet that splendid\ncreature alone in the jungle,\u201d he observed. \u201cDid you not notice how the\niron chain snapped like a thread at the jerk which she gave it?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Captain Guise, as he turned back into the tent; \u201cwhat\nwill hold in the cub, is as a spider\u2019s web to the full-grown wild\nbeast. You had, as I told you, a dangerous pet, Norman Stanley. You\nmight play for a while with the young creature, but claws will lengthen\nand fangs will grow. And,\u201d the captain added more gravely, \u201cthis is\nlike some other things which are at first but a source of amusement,\nbut which are too likely to become at last a source of destruction.\u201d\n\nNorman Stanley\u2019s cheek reddened, for he felt that it was not merely of\na tiger\u2019s cub that his friend was speaking. Evil habits, which at first\nseem so weak that we believe that we can hold them in by a mere effort\nof will, grow fearfully strong by indulgence. Many a wretched drunkard\nhas begun by what he called merely a little harmless mirth, but has\nfound at last that he had been fostering something more dangerous still\nthen a tiger\u2019s cub. His good resolutions have snapped; he has been\ncarried away by a terrible force with which he has not had the strength\nto grapple; and so has proved the truth of the captain\u2019s words, that\nwhat is at first but a source of amusement may be at last a source of\ndestruction.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNOT ONE TOO MANY.\n\n\n\u201cNO, neighbor, you\u2019ve not one too many,\u201d observed Bridget Macbride,\nas she stood in the doorway of the cottage of Janet Maclean, knitting\ncoarse gray socks as fast as her fingers could go.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s easy enough for you to say so,\u201d replied Janet, who was engaged\nin ironing out a shirt, and who seemed to be too busy even to look up\nas she spoke\u2014\u201cit\u2019s easy enough for you to say so, Bridget Macbride.\nYou\u2019ve never had but three bairns [children] in your life, and your\nhusband he gets good wages. You\u2019d sing to a different tune, I take it,\nif you\u2019d nine bairns, as I ha\u2019e, the oldest not twelve years old\u2014nine\nto feed, to clothe, and to house, and to toil and moil for, and your\ngoodman getting but seven shillings a-week, though he\u2019s after the sheep\nfrom morning till night!\u201d Mrs. Maclean had been getting quite red in\nthe face as she spoke, but that might have been from stooping over her\nironing work.\n\n\u201cStill children are blessings,\u2014at least, I always thought mine so,\u201d\nobserved Bridget Macbride.\n\n\u201cBlessings; yes, to be sure!\u201d cried Janet; \u201cI thought so too till there\nwere so many of them that we had to pack in the cottage like herrings\nin a barrel.\u201d Janet was now ironing out a sleeve, and required to go\nrather more gently on with her work. \u201cI\u2019m sure nae folk welcomed little\nones more than Tam and I did the four first wee bairns, though many a\nbroken night\u2019s rest we had wi\u2019 poor Jeanie,\u2014and I shall never forget\nthe time when the measles was in our cottage, and every ane o\u2019 the four\nhad it! Yes,\u201d the mother went on, \u201cfour we could manage pretty well,\nwith a wee bit o\u2019 pinching and scraping; but then came _twins_; and\nthen little Davie; and afore he could toddle alane, twins again!\u201d and\nJanet banged down her iron on its stand, as if two sets of twins were\ntoo much for the patience of any parent to endure.\n\n\u201cYou must have a struggle to keep them all,\u201d observed Bridget Macbride.\n\n\u201cStruggle! I should say so!\u201d cried Janet, looking more flushed and\nangry than ever. \u201cWe never could have got on at all, had I not taken in\nwashing and ironing; and it\u2019s no such easy matter, I can tell you, to\nwash and iron fine things for the gentry with twin-babies a-wanting you\nto look after them every hour in the twenty-four!\u201d It seemed as if the\nbabies had heard themselves mentioned, for from the rude cradle by the\nfire came a squall, first from one child, and then from both, and poor\nJanet was several minutes before she could get either of them quiet\nagain.\n\n\u201cYou\u2019ve a busy life of it indeed,\u201d observed Bridget, as soon as the\nweary mother was able once more to take up her iron.\n\n\u201c\u2019Deed you may say so,\u201d replied Janet sharply, plying her iron faster,\nas if to make up for lost time. \u201cAnd for all my working, and Tam\u2019s, we\ncan scarce get enough of bread or porridge to fill nine hungry mouths;\nand as for meat, we don\u2019t see it for weeks and weeks\u2014not so much as a\nslice of bacon! Then there\u2019s the schooling of the twa eldest bairns to\nbe paid for, as Tam and I won\u2019t ha\u2019e them grow up like heathen savages;\nand we\u2019ll hae them gae decent too, not in rags and barefooted, like\nbeggars. And I should like to know\u201d\u2014Janet was ironing fast, but talking\nfaster\u2014\u201cI should like to know how shoon [shoes] and sarks [shirts],\nand a plaidie for this ane, and a bonnet for anither, and breakfasts\no\u2019 bannocks, and porridge for supper, are a\u2019 to come out of that\nwash-tub?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd yet,\u201d observed Bridget Macbride, \u201chard as you have to work for\nyour children, I don\u2019t believe that you would willingly part with one\nof them, neighbor.\u201d\n\nEven as she spoke, there was a distressful cry of \u201cMither! mither!\u201d as\nJanet\u2019s two eldest children burst suddenly into the cottage, looking\nunhappy and frightened.\n\n\u201cWhat ails the bairns?\u201d asked Janet anxiously, turning round at the cry.\n\n\u201cO mither, we\u2019ve lost wee Davie; we can\u2019t find him nowhere in the wood,\nand we be afeard as he may have fallen over the cliff.\u201d\n\n\u201cDavie! my bairn! my darling!\u201d exclaimed poor Janet, forgetting in a\nmoment all her toils and troubles in one terrible fear. Down went the\niron on the table, and without waiting to put on bonnet or shawl, the\nfond mother rushed out of the cottage, to go and search for her child.\nBridget had spoken the truth; Janet might complain of the trouble\nbrought by a large family, but she could not bear to part with one\nout of her flock. If Davie had been the only child of a rich mother,\ninstead of the seventh child of a poor one, he could not have been\nsought with more eager anxiety, more tender, self-forgetting love.\n\nFollowed by several of her children, but outstripping them all in her\nhaste, Janet was soon at the edge of the wood. \u201cDavie! Davie! my bairn!\nmy bairn!\u201d resounded through the forest. The mother\u2019s cry was answered\nby a distant whoop and halloo;\u2014Janet knew the voice of her husband, and\nher heart took courage from the sound. But her hope was changed into\ndelight, when she caught a glimpse between the trees of the shepherd\ncoming towards her, with her little yellow-haired laddie Davie perched\non his broad shoulders, grasping with one hand his father\u2019s rough\nlocks, and with the other a bannock, which he was nibbling at as he\nrode.\n\n\u201cThe Lord be praised!\u201d cried poor Janet, and rushing forward she caught\nthe child from her husband, pressed Davie closely to her heart, and\nburst into a flood of grateful tears.\n\n\u201cYou must look a bit better after your stray lamb, Janet,\u201d said Tam\nwith a good-humored smile. \u201cI was just crossing the wood when Trusty\nset up a barking which made me go out o\u2019 my way just to see if he had\nfound a rabbit, or started a blackcock. There was our wean [child]\nsitting much at his ease, munching a bannock, as contented and happy as\nif he\u2019d been a duke eating venison out of a golden dish. But you mustna\nlet the wee bairn wander about by himsel\u2019, for if he\u2019d gaen over the\ncliff, we\u2019d never hae heard the voice o\u2019 our lammie again.\u201d\n\nVery joyful and very thankful was Janet Maclean, as, with her boy in\nher arms, she returned to her cottage. Bridget had remained there\nto take care of the twins during the absence of their mother. Mrs.\nMacbride received her neighbor with a smile, and the words, \u201cDidna I\nsay, Janet, that ye\u2019d not one too many, nor would willingly part wi\u2019 a\nsingle bairn out o\u2019 your nine?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Lord forgie my thankless heart!\u201d said poor Janet, and she fondly\nkissed her boy. \u201cWe ne\u2019er are grateful enough for our blessings until\nwe are like to lose them.\u201d Then putting the little child down on the\nbrick floor, with fresh courage and industry the mother returned to her\nironing again.\n\nMay we not hope that all Janet\u2019s toil and hard work for her children\nhad one day a rich reward? May we not hope that not one out of the\nnine, when old enough and strong enough to labor for her who had\nlabored so hard for them, but did his best to repay her care and her\nlove? How large is a parent\u2019s heart, that opens wide and wider to take\nin all the children of her family, however numerous those children may\nbe! Though each new babe adds to poor parents\u2019 toils, and takes from\ntheir comforts, still the kind father and the fond mother, as they\nlook round their home circle of rosy faces, can not only say but feel,\n\u201cThere is not one too many.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE IRON RING.\n\n\nCHANG WANG was a Chinaman, and was reputed to be one of the shrewdest\ndealers in the Flowery Land. If making money fast be the test of\ncleverness, there was not a merchant in the province of Kwang Tung who\nhad earned a better right to be called clever. Who owned so many fields\nof the tea-plant, who shipped so many bales of its leaves to the little\nisland in the west, as did Chang Wang? It was whispered, indeed, that\nmany of the bales contained green tea made by chopping up spoilt black\ntea-leaves, and coloring them with copper\u2014a process likely to turn\nthem into a mild kind of poison; but if the unwholesome trash found\npurchasers, Chang Wang never troubled himself with the thought whether\nany one might suffer in health from drinking his tea. So long as the\ndealer made money, he was content; and plenty of money he made.\n\nBut knowing how to make money is quite a different thing from knowing\nhow to enjoy it. With all his ill-gotten gains, Chang Wang was a\nmiserable man, for he had no heart to spend his silver pieces, even\non his own comfort. The rich dealer lived in a hut which one of his\nown laborers might have despised; he dressed as a poor Tartar shepherd\nmight have dressed when driving his flock. Chang Wang grudged himself\neven a hat to keep off the rays of the sun. Men laughed, and said that\nhe would have cut off his own pigtail of plaited hair, if he could have\nsold it for the price of a dinner! Chang Wang was, in fact, a miser,\nand was rather proud than ashamed of the hateful vice of avarice.\n\nChang Wang had to make a journey to Macao, down the great river\nYang-se-kiang, for purposes of trade. The question with the Chinaman\nnow was in what way he should travel.\n\n\u201cShall I hire a palanquin?\u201d thought Chang Wang, stroking his thin\nmoustaches; \u201cno, a palanquin would cost too much money. Shall I take my\npassage in a trading vessel?\u201d The rich trader shook his head, and the\npigtail behind it,\u2014such a passage would have to be paid for.\n\n\u201cI know what I\u2019ll do,\u201d said the miser to himself; \u201cI\u2019ll ask my uncle\nFing Fang to take me in his fishing-boat down the great river. It is\ntrue that it will make my journey a long one, but then I shall make it\nfor nothing. I\u2019ll go to the fisherman Fing Fang, and settle the matter\nat once.\u201d\n\nThe business was soon arranged, for Fing Fang would not refuse his rich\nnephew a seat in his boat. But he, like every one else, was disgusted\nat Chang Wang\u2019s meanness; and as soon as the dealer had left his hovel,\nthus spoke Fing Fang to his sons, Ko and Jung:\n\n\u201cHere\u2019s a fellow who has scraped up money enough to build a second\nporcelain tower, and he comes here to beg a free passage in a\nfishing-boat from an uncle whom he has never so much as asked to share\na dish of his birds\u2019-nests soup.\u201d[E]\n\n\u201cBirds\u2019-nests soup, indeed!\u201d exclaimed Ko; \u201cwhy, Chang Wang never\nindulges in luxuries such as that. If dogs\u2019 flesh[E] were not so cheap,\nhe\u2019d grudge himself the paw of a roasted puppy.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what will Chang Wang make of all his money at last?\u201d said Fing\nFang more gravely; \u201che cannot carry it away with him when he dies.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, he\u2019s gathering it up for some one who will know how to spend\nit,\u201d laughed Jung. \u201cChang Wang is merely fishing for others; what he\ngathers, they will enjoy.\u201d\n\nIt was a bright, pleasant day when Chang Wang stepped into the boat of\nhis uncle, to drop slowly down the great Yang-se-kiang. Many a civil\nword he said to Fing Fang and his sons, for civil words cost nothing.\nChang Wang sat in the boat twisting the ends of his long moustaches,\nand thinking how much money each row of plants in his tea-fields\nmight bring him. Presently, having finished his calculations, the\nmiser turned to watch his relations, who were pursuing their fishing\noccupation in the way peculiar to China. Instead of rods, lines, or\nnets, the Fing Fang family was provided with trained cormorants, which\nare a kind of bird with a long neck, large appetite, and a particular\nfancy for fish.\n\nIt was curious to watch a bird diving down in the sunny water, and\nthen suddenly come up again with a struggling fish in his bill. The\nfish was, however, always taken away from the cormorant, and thrown by\none of the Fing Fangs into a well at the bottom of the boat.\n\n\u201cCousin Ko,\u201d said the miser, leaning forward to speak, \u201chow is it that\nyour clever cormorants never devour the fish they catch?\u201d\n\n\u201cCousin Chang Wang,\u201d replied the young man, \u201cdost thou not see that\neach bird has an iron ring round his neck, so that he cannot swallow?\nHe only fishes for others.\u201d\n\n\u201cMethinks the cormorant has a hard life of it,\u201d observed the miser,\nsmiling.\n\n\u201cHe must wish his iron ring at the bottom of the Yang-se-kiang.\u201d\n\nFing Fang, who had just let loose two young cormorants from the boat,\nturned round, and from his narrow slits of Chinese eyes looked keenly\nupon his nephew.\n\n\u201cDidst thou ever hear of a creature,\u201d said he, \u201cthat puts an iron ring\naround his own neck?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is no such creature in all the land that the Great Wall\nborders,\u201d replied Chang Wang.\n\nFing Fang solemnly shook the pigtail which hung down his back. Like\nmany of the Chinese, he had read a great deal, and was a kind of\nphilosopher in his way.\n\n\u201cNephew Chang Wang,\u201d he observed, \u201c_I_ know of a creature (and he is\nnot far off at this moment) who is always fishing for gain\u2014constantly\ncatching, but never enjoying. Avarice\u2014the love of hoarding\u2014is the iron\nring round his neck; and so long as it stays there he is much like one\nof our trained cormorants\u2014he may be clever, active, successful, but he\nis only fishing for others.\u201d\n\nI leave my readers to guess whether the sharp dealer understood his\nuncle\u2019s meaning, or whether Chang Wang resolved in future not only\nto catch, but to enjoy. Fing Fang\u2019s moral might be good enough for a\nChinese heathen, but it does not go nearly far enough for an English\nChristian. If a miser is like a cormorant with an iron ring round\nhis neck, the man or the child who lives for his own pleasure only,\nwhat is he but a greedy cormorant without the iron ring? Who would\nwish to resemble a cormorant at all? The bird knows the enjoyment\nof _getting_; let us prize the richer enjoyment of _giving_. Let\nme close with an English proverb, which I prefer to the Chinaman\u2019s\nparable,\u2014\u201cCharity is the truest epicure; for she eats with many mouths.\u201d\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[E] Noted Chinese dishes.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE ILL WIND.\n\n\n\u201cIT\u2019S an ill wind that blaws naebody good, Master Harry\u2014we maun say\nthat,\u201d observed old Ailsie, Mrs. Delmar\u2019s Scotch nurse, as she went to\nclose the window, through which rushed in the furious blast; \u201cbut I hae\na dear laddie at sea, and when I hear the wind howl like that, I think\u201d\u2014\n\n\u201cOh, shut the window, nurse! Quick, quick! or we\u2019ll have the casement\nblown in!\u201d cried Nina. \u201cDid you ever hear such a gust!\u201d\n\nAilsie shut the window, but not in time to prevent some pictures,\nwhich the little lady had been sorting, from being scattered in every\ndirection over the room.\n\n\u201cOur fine larch has been blown down on the lawn,\u201d cried Harry, who had\nsauntered up to the window.\n\n\u201cOh, what a pity!\u201d exclaimed his sister, as she went down on her knees\nto pick up the pictures. \u201cOur beauty larch, that was planted only this\nspring, and that looked so lovely with its tassels of green! To think\nof the dreadful wind rooting up that! I\u2019m sure that this at least is an\nill wind, that blows nobody good.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou should see the mischief it has done in the wood,\u201d observed Harry;\n\u201csnapping off great branches as if they were twigs. The whole path\nthrough the wood is strewn with the boughs and the leaves.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t bear the fierce wind,\u201d exclaimed Nina. \u201cWhen I was out half an\nhour ago I thought it would have blown me away. I really could scarcely\nkeep my feet.\u201d\n\n\u201cI could not keep my cap,\u201d laughed Harry. \u201cOff it scudded, whirling\nround and round right into the river, where I could watch it floating\nfor ever so long. I shall never get it again.\u201d\n\n\u201cMischievous, horrid wind!\u201d cried Nina, who had just picked up the last\nof her pictures.\n\n\u201cOh, missie, ye maunna speak against the wind\u2014for ye ken who sends it,\u201d\nobserved the old nurse. \u201cIt has its work to do as we hae ours. Depend\non\u2019t, the proverb is true, \u2018It\u2019s an ill wind that blaws naebody good.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cThere\u2019s no sense in that proverb,\u201d said Harry, bluntly. \u201c_This_ wind\ndoes nothing but harm. It has snapped off the head of mamma\u2019s beautiful\nfavorite flower\u201d\u2014\n\n\u201cAnd smashed panes in her greenhouse,\u201d added Nina.\n\nIt was indeed a furious wind that was blowing that evening, and as\nthe night came on it seemed to increase. It rattled the shutters, it\nshrieked in the chimneys, it tore off some of the slates, and kept the\nchildren awake with its howling. The storm lulled, however, before the\nmorning broke; and when the sun had risen, all was bright, calm, and\nserene.\n\n\u201cWhat a lovely morning after such a stormy night!\u201d cried Nina, as\nwith her brother Harry she rambled in the green wood, while old Ailsie\nfollowed behind them. \u201cI never felt the air more sweet and fresh, and\nit seemed so heavy yesterday morning.\u201d\n\n\u201cAy, ay, the wind cleared the air,\u201d observed Ailsie. \u201cIt\u2019s an ill wind\nthat blaws naebody good.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut think of your poor son at sea,\u201d observed Harry.\n\n\u201cI was just thinking o\u2019 him when I spake, Master Harry. I was thinking\nthat maybe that verra wind was filling the sails o\u2019 his ship, and\nblawing him hame all the faster, to cheer the eyes o\u2019 his mither. It is\nsure to be in the right quarter for _some one_, let it blaw from north,\nsouth, east, or west.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, there\u2019s little Ruth Laurie just before us,\u201d cried Harry, as he\nturned a bend in the woodland path. \u201cWhat a great bundle of fagots she\nis bravely carrying!\u201d\n\n\u201cLet\u2019s ask after her sick mother,\u201d said Nina, running up to the orphan\nchild, who was well known to the Delmars. Ruth dwelt with her mother in\na very small cottage near the wood; and the children were allowed to\nvisit the widow in her poor but respectful home.\n\n\u201cBlessings on the wee barefooted lassie!\u201d exclaimed Ailsie; \u201cI\u2019ll be\nbound she\u2019s been up with the lark, to gather up the broken branches\nwhich the wind has stripped from the trees.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s a heavy bundle for you to carry, Ruth!\u201d said Harry; \u201cit is\nalmost as big as yourself.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shouldn\u2019t mind carrying it were it twice as heavy and big,\u201d cried\nthe peasant child, looking up with a bright, happy smile. \u201cCoals be\nterrible dear, and we\u2019ve not a stick of wood left in the shed; and\nmother, she gets so chilly of an evening. There\u2019s nothing she likes so\nwell as a hot cup of tea and a good warm fire; your dear mamma gives us\nthe tea, and you see I\u2019ve the wood for boiling the water. Won\u2019t mother\nbe glad when she sees my big fagots; and wasn\u2019t I pleased when I heard\nthe wind blowing last night, for I knew I should find branches strewn\nabout in the morning!\u201d\n\n\u201cAh,\u201d cried Harry, \u201cthat reminds me of the proverb, \u2018\u2019Tis an ill wind\nthat blows nobody good.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cHarry,\u201d whispered Nina to her brother, \u201cdon\u2019t you think that you and\nI might help Ruth to fill her poor mother\u2019s little wood-shed?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! pick up sticks, and carry them in fagots on our backs? How funny\nthat would look!\u201d exclaimed Harry.\n\n\u201cWe should be doing some good,\u201d replied Nina. \u201cDon\u2019t you remember that\nnurse said that the wind has its work to do, as we have ours? If it\u2019s\nan ill wind that does nobody good, it must be an _ill child_ that does\ngood to no one.\u201d\n\nMerrily and heartily Harry and Nina set about their labor of kindness.\nAnd cheerfully, as the children tripped along with their burdens to the\npoor woman\u2019s cottage, Nina repeated her old nurse\u2019s proverb, \u201c\u2019Tis an\nill wind that blows nobody good.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTranscriber\u2019s Notes:\n\nObvious punctuation errors repaired.\n\nPage 199, \u201cgrow\u201d changed to \u201cgrew\u201d (Dora grew uneasy)\n\nPage 227, originally, footnote, right side of text missing, original\nread:\n\n  [B] A. L. O. E. remembers attending, many y\n  ago, exactly snch an exhibition at the house\n  friend, of a model of the Tabernacle made by a\n  and her children for some charitable purpose.\n\nThis has been changed to:\n\n  [B] A. L. O. E. remembers attending, many years ago, exactly such an\n  exhibition at the house of a friend, a model of the Tabernacle made\n  by a lady and her children for some charitable purpose.","title":"The Children's Tabernacle; Or, Hand-Work and Heart-Work","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":38591}