66 shittim wood, overlaid with pure gold, and is hence sometimes Its dimensions called "the golden altar," Numb. iv. 11. were eighteen inches square and three feet high. Around the top was an open-worked rim, or crown," of gold, with projecting pieces at each corner, in the form of "horns.” On each side were rings of gold, for the purpose of passing staves through, to carry it from place to place. Its use was the burning of incense on it every morning and evening, at the time of the daily sacrifices. This incense was compounded of the choicest substances and most fragrant gums, after a recipe given to Moses by God, and which may be found in Exodus xxx. 34-38. There was no grate nor other contrivance upon the altar itself for this incense. It was burned in a golden censer, which the officiating priest kindled every day at the time of using, from the fire on the altar of burnt offerings; and, entering the Holy Place, set it on the golden altar till the cloud of its perfume had filled the house, and the entire contents were consumed. This service was performed by the high priest on great occasions; but on ordinary days by the chief priest of An instance of the the course whose turn it was to officiate. latter may be referred to in Luke i., where Zacharias was burning incense at the time of the daily sacrifice. On the north side of the Holy Place, standing lengthwise from east to west, stood the "table of shewbread," Exod. xxv. 23-30. Like the altar of incense, it was of shittim-wood, overlaid with gold. It was eighteen inches wide, three feet long, and twenty-seven inches high. Its top was richly ornamented with a golden rim, called "a crown," and just under this was a border, about four inches deep, terminating in a like ornamented rim. This table was furnished with "dishes, spoons, covers, and bowls," Exod. xxv. 29, for different purposes. The "dishes" appear to have been two, and put there to hold the piles of shewbread, which were probably placed upon them as shown in the cut. The " spoons "would be more properly rendered “cups" or " censers," and were used for holding incense, Numb. vii. 14. It is commonly thought there were two, and that they held the frankincense which was set upon each pile of bread, Lev. xxiv. 7. The "bowls" were, probably, for containing wine; for although this is not mentioned in the Bible, yet, as libations were made to God by pouring out wine in the Holy Place, and the Jews have a tradition that a bowl of excellent wine was always kept upon the table, it seems very likely that these were the vessels for containing it. Indeed, Josephus says, that when Pompey went into the Holy Place of the Temple, he saw there cups for libation amongst the other sacred vessels. The shewbread, set upon this table, was made of the finest flour, and consisted of twelve cakes, set one upon another, according to the twelve tribes of the house of Israel, see Lev. xxiv. 5-9. The Jews have a tradition that, in order to insure the purity of this bread, the priests performed all the offices of sowing, reaping, grinding, baking, &c., in its preparation; but of this the Scriptures do not speak. It was changed every sabbath, with much ceremony and care, being so managed that the new bread was set on one end of the table before the old was taken from the other, that it might never be without its supply. The old bread belonged to the priests, and was always eaten by them in the Holy Place, with one famous exception, 1 Sam. xxi. 6—9, and to which Christ refers to reprove the Pharisees for blaming the conduct of his disciples in plucking the ears of corn upon the sabbath. The name "shewbread" might be rendered “bread of faces," or presence bread," a name very appropriate to this standing offering before the face or presence of God. 66 Opposite the table of shewbread, and on the south side of the Holy Place, stood the golden "candlestick," more properly called a candelabrum, or lamp-bearer. This piece of furniture was of pure gold, and weighed a talent, or about 125 lbs. It consisted of a base and stock, with seven branches, three on each side, and one in the middle. These branches were all parallel to one another, and were worked out in knobs, flowers, and bowls, alternately, Exod. xxv. 31-39. The Jews say the flowers were lilies, and the knobs formed like pomegranates. On the extremities of the branches were seven golden lamps, one on each branch. The light of the lamps was supplied from the purest olive oil. It has been disputed as to whether the lamps were kept continually burning, or only "trimmed" in the morning, and "lighted" at night, as spoken of in Exod. xxv. But as, in Lev. xxiv. 2, it is expressly said they were to be caused “to burn continually," we are disposed to think they were kept constantly in flame. These lamps were the only light admitted into the Holy Place, except when the curtain was passed, and so partially lifted by the priests; and hence they appear, independent of their symbolical reference, to have been necessary as much by day as night. It was the duty of the priests to attend to these lamps, as to all the other parts of the Tabernacle and its services. Every part of these pieces of furniture, and all the services connected with them, were of highly symbolical import, and might be made here the ground of many evangelical teachings; but we forbear at present doing more than giving descriptions, and reserving the symbolical character of the whole erection for a separate and future paper. THE ANCHOR. EVERY ship carries its anchor-not stowed away below, but ready for use-not as an ornament, to be admired for its beauty, but of great strength, to be trusted in times of danger. It may, for a time, lie still, unnoticed and unemployed: but let a storm arise, and a tempest rage; as the ship is driven along the anchor is at once thought of. Perhaps the land is near; it may be a rocky shore, or an open coast, level as the sands; in either case there is danger, and much will depend upon the anchor. Much of the danger may be unseen by reason of mists, or fogs, or the thick darkness of a cloudy night; then how anxiously is the break of day waited for, and what hopes rest upon the anchor, that it may remain fast and secure! If the anchor gives way or breaks, all will be lost. We read in Heb. vi. 19 of " an anchor of the soul," the Christian's anchor. Our bodies, like frail vessels, embarked upon the sea of life, carry with them a mighty treasure-the soul. Some venture upon the perilous voyage without this anchor, or with a substitute for it, which will avail them nothing in a storm. Would a pasteboard anchor, or one of glass, be of service to the mariner? It might be ornamental and much admired in a calm, but worthless as a toy in a tempest. So the mere name or form of religion will be no security for the soul. The Christian's anchor is HOPE, grounded on a believing union to Jesus Christ; and that is sure, and certainly to be trusted. Have you this anchor? The time to try it is when trouble and distress come, when friends fail, when comforts fade away, when other fond hopes snap asunder-then is the time to hold fast by this anchor, even to the rock of salvation, the Lord Jesus Christ. Did ever any cling to him and perish? Did ever any have a prosperous voyage, even to the end, without this anchor of the soul? You may have met with much calm weather hitherto, and have passed your months and years pleasantly. Are you prepared for the storms which are approaching? If you were able to pass all your days free from care, do you not know that " death's cold stream," with its mighty swelling current, will meet you? and what will you then do? All will be well if you have this safety anchor, but no other sort will do. It is the royal, patent, safety anchor of the soul. It is warranted. It cannot fail. Its cost was great; yet you may have it as a gift. Precious giftprecious salvation-precious Saviour, let it be mine now, and mine for evermore! JOHN THE BEGGAR. FROM THE FRENCH. MANY years since, when I was a young man about twenty years of age, I used very frequently to spend Sunday with my mother, who resided at Versailles, this being the only day of the week on which I could leave Paris. I generally walked as far as the Barrier, and thence I took a seat in one of the public carriages, to my mother's house. When I happened to be too early for the diligence, I used to stop and converse with a beggar, whose name was Anthony, and who regularly took his station at the Barrier de Passy, where, in a loud voice, he solicited alms from every one who passed, with a degree of perseverance that was really astonishing. I generally gave him a trifle, without inquiring whether he deserved it or not, partly because I had got into the habit of doing so, and partly to get rid of his importunities. One day in summer, as I waited for the diligence, I found Anthony at his usual post, exerting his accustomed form of petition-" For the love of heaven, bestow your alms on a poor man-Messieurs, Mes dames, the smallest trifle will be gratefully received." While Anthony was in this manner pouring his exclamation into the ears of every one who came within the reach of his voice, a middle-aged man, of respectable appearance, joined us. He had a pleasant expression of countenance, was very well dressed, and it might be seen at a glance that he was a man in good circumstances. Here was a fit subject for a beggar, who quickly made his advances, proclaiming, in a loud voice, his poverty, and soliciting relief. "You need not be a beggar unless you please," replied the gentleman, "when you may have an income of ten thousand crowns.' "You are pleased to jest, sir," said Anthony. "By no means," said the gentleman, "I never was more serious in my life. Listen to me, my friend. You perceive that I am well dressed and I tell you, that I have every thing a reasonable man need desire." man." "Ah, sir, you are a fortunate merchant. And here, he continued, is a crown, to set you up in your new trade; it is more than I had: and, in addition, please take notice, that if I find you here another Sunday, I "Well, my friend, I would not have been so if I had sat and begged, as you are doing." "I have no other means of obtain- shall report you to the police." ing my living." "Are you lame?" "No, sir." On saying this, the gentleman walked off, leaving Anthony and myself in a state of great surprise. Indeed, the beggar had been so much interested in the history he had heard, that he stood with open mouth and eyes, in mute astonishment, nor had he even power to solicit alms from two well dressed ladies who passed at that moment, I could not help being struck with the story, but I had no time to comment upon it, as the diligence had arrived, in which I seated myself, and pursued my way. From that period I lost sight of the beggar; whether the fear of the police, or the hopes of gaining ten thousand crowns a year, had wrought the change, I was not aware; it is sufficient to say, that from that day forward he was never seen at the Barrier. "You are not blind, nor deaf, and you certainly are not dumb, as every passer-by can testify. Listen: I shall tell you my history in a few words. Some fifteen or twenty years ago I was a beggar, like yourself; at length I began to see that it was very disgraceful to live on the bounty of others, and I resolved to abandon this shameful way of life as soon as I possibly could. I quitted Paris, and went into the provinces-begged for old rags. The people were very kind to me, and in a short time I returned to Paris with a tolerable large bundle of rags of every description. I carried them to a paper maker, who bought them at a fair price. I went on collecting, until, to my great joy, my finances enabled me to purchase rags, so that I was no longer forced to beg for them. At length, by diligence and industry, I became rich enough to buy an ass, with two panniers, and they saved me both time and labour. My business increased; the paper makers found that I dealt honestly with them; I never palmed off bad rags for good ones; I prospered, and see the result. In place of being a poor, despised beggar, II thought I had seen the face of the have ten thousand crowns a year, bookseller before, but where, I could and two houses in one of the best not for a moment tell, until he spoke, streets in Paris. If, then, my friend, and then I discovered him to be my you can do no better, begin as a rag old friend Anthony. The recognition Many years afterwards, it happened that business called me to Tours. In strolling through the city, I stepped into a bookseller's shop to purchase a new work that had made some noise. I found there four young men, all busily employed, while a stout, good-looking man was giving them orders, as he walked up and down, with an air of importance. |