arenarii, some of whom may have become Christians, must have been of great service. They knew every winding in the wide-spread subterranean dens, or the Catacombs; they had it in their power to find for the poor outlaws a city of refuge, whereto few could follow them. Just as it would be the case in this country, if a change for the worse were to pass over it, when to profess the Christian religion would be against the law of the land-when Christian ministers and people would be forced to look for safety "in the dens and caves of the earth"-English miners and colliers, if Christianly-minded, would then prove the best protectors of the persecuted ones for righteousness' sake. Such was the origin of the connection which subsisted between the earliest Christian Church at Rome with the Catacombs of that city. (To be continued.) THE OLD JEW. BY THE COUNTESS DE GASPARIN. In a small watering-place in Germany I often met a strange little man, who always went about alone, and never ventured to approach the spring till everyone else had left it. He was always wrapped up in a long brown coat reaching nearly to the ground, secured round the waist by a leather girdle. On his small head he wore an old high-crowned hat with black crape. He wore a long beard, had a pale complexion, a small mouth, rather piercing eyes, and noble features, and there was in him a curious mixture of penury and respectability, of dignity and anxiety. His figure was dignified, but his shuffling gait rather reminded one of the wriggles of a weasel trying to escape when caught; sometimes he might be discovered walking in a retired foot-path where he contrived so effectually to conceal himself under the shadow of the trees that he could with difficulty be distinguished. At our first meetings, if perchance his eye caught mine, he turned away uneasily; but as we met often, by degrees the little man grew less timid, though he always passed me hastily, with his arms tightly crossed within the ample folds of his wide hanging sleeves. After a while he took his hat off; and at this point of the acquaintance we should have remained but for a remarkable rencontre. On a Saturday in July-one of those lovely mornings in that season when nature seems to draw one with irresistible force into the open air I set out to walk, choosing a favourite path through the fields, and was led on imper ceptibly towards the hills, enjoying the friendly shade of apple trees or the darker shadow of a nut grove, till I reached an open country where corn fields were ripening into golden beauty. The town was out of sight, and all was quiet and still, except when the silence was broken occasionally by the lark's clear song as he ascended heavenwards, or the scene was enlivened by a child running across the fields. I followed the path till it brought me to a Jewish cemetery. The sight of these scattered gravestones always produces in me an indescribable sense of loneliness and exile. Suddenly I perceived there the figure of my unknown friend, and saw from the traces in the long grass that he had been visiting more than one grave. Though his back was towards me I could see that he was engaged in fervent prayer; his bent attitude, the eager movements of his body as he swayed to and fro with emotion shewed that he was, as it were, besieging heaven with supplications. He did not perceive me and I stole away with a beating heart, for had I not, though unintentionally, been acting the part of a spy on the secret of his mode of worship? I retreated noiselessly, and after a little delay went homewards by the way by which I had come. On the road I again met the litte Jew, for now I could have no doubt as to his nationality, and as he recognised me a quiet smile lighted up his pale face. As we walked together I asked, “Are you a stranger?" After a scrutinizing glance all round him the Jew answered with a low Jan. 1, 1867. voice and with a foreign accent, "I am a Pole." "Are you here on account of health?" "Health and business brought me here, and besides, I am an exile." We conversed as we walked on; his German was mixed with so many Sclavonian words, and he used so many obsequious expressions of politeness that it would have displeased me had I not remembered Eastern customs. He had not the dignity of a true Oriental; one perceived in him the servile cringing manner which is always the result of oppression. The poor man seemed at first surprised at meeting with such civility, and was inclined to be taciturn, but by degrees he thawed and became more communicative. The number of your "excellencys," your "highnesses," and "your ladyships," &c., somewhat diminished, he began to tell me about his business, and I understood thus much: that his goods had been confiscated and that in bad health he was now turned adrift in the world. As we drew near the town his old uneasy manner suddenly came over him again, he gazed anxiously about him, he lingered as he walked, and became quite silent; so with a friendly goodbye I left him. Whether he was afraid of the Russian visitors or of the Jews living in the town, or whether it was merely the force of habit I cannot tell. Some days passed, and the impression caused by this timid courtesy, this almost servile respect, was more painful to me than a scene of actual distress. I longed to raise the poor man in his own esteem. No one in the town could tell me anything of him except that he was poor and learned, and that he had settled himself with his wife in a wretched little house two years before. That a man should be so sunken, whose whole crime was, perhaps, some petty smuggling, touched not only my heart but my conscience. Woe to the strong who oppress the weak, be it a nation or an individual. Some trifling service so changed my Jewish friend that one day he even ventured to greet me publicly, and at that moment he seemed to me changed into another man, but it was only momentary. The day of my departure was at hand, but I could not leave the town without seeing the little Jew once more and acknowledging our equality by a visit, so I set out to discover his dwelling one Friday evening. Were you ever in a synagogue? if so have you ever understood the solemn simplicity of that sanctuary? Did you comprehend the utter separation there is between it and all other places of worship you ever knew? Did you not breathe there a perfume from the east, and were you not touched with deep emotion? No, I can at once boldly venture to pronounce in the name of each, for as yet I have found no one who feels as I do on this point. You merely saw there a curious collection of Roman noses, sharp eyes, and countenances eager for gain; you only heard an insupportable nasal chant, sat through a formal ceremony, and went away either displeased or deeply saddened, whilst I, whether right or wrong, experience quite the reverse when I visit a synagogue. When I enter that unadorned room, see the roll opened on the mean altar, survey heads half covered with the talith, and hear the prayers uttered in foreign accents, a feeling of childlike respect and reverential love overcomes me. Before my eyes are the children of the Patriarchs, the now cast out but ever chosen race, the very figures and forms of Abraham, Isaac, and Moses rise before me, and then I see visions of palm-trees and of the desert-of the long pilgrimage-of Oases-the shores of Jordan and-the tents of Jacob. I could call these men my brethren if they would permit it. Such were the feelings which filled my mind as I approached the door I sought. I knocked-and as they opened to me, the last feeble rays of the setting sun lighted up a low dark room. The Jew rose, and on recognising me, heartily welcomed me; this time with no indecision in his tone. The A white cloth was spread on the table and a folded napkin concealed a loaf and a small dish of potatoes. An old leather lamp with seven branches of curious ornamental workmanship lighted this singular room. Jew was seated in a large arm chair, some fine china stood on a shelf and on the whitewashed wall were engraved some Hebrew characters which irresistibly recalled to my memory the Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin (Dan. 5, 25) written on the walls of the Babylonish palace. Behind the little Jew stood his wife, tall and gaunt in figure, with a dull expression of face; her hair was covered by a yellow fringed handkerchief, her dress was reddish yellow, striped with blue; she wore large silver earrings, and her hands, which, in her astonishment at the unexpected visit, she had I did not answer, but my eyes must have expressed my dissent. He looked at me enquiringly, and said, "Do you not think so?" "I think your race is the blessed one." race." "It is now in darkness but you will soon come out into the light. When the Messiah, the Saviour, the King of Glory comes, then will Jerusalem rejoice, and princes shall serve him." The Jew had ceased listening to me. "Jeruschalaim, Jeruschalaim," he murmured with deep sorrow. "Jerusalem-I have seen Jerusalem," I involuntarily exclaimed. His eyes brightened and even his wife's face expressed joy. "You-you saw Jerusalem, " his voice trembled. "Is that true," he exclaimed, catching hold of my hand, whilst his wife felt my dress as if she were touching a relic. And then with loving eagerness he began to question me, not like a stranger enquiring about foreign lands, but like a child enquiring about home where every detail is familiar. He asked me about the city of David and the brook of Cedron, and when I told him that the water was quite dried up, he sighed deeply. He asked about the boundaries, the fortresses, whether the ancient walls in the valley of Jehosaphat were yet standing, about the Dead Sea and Hebron, whether Rachael's grave yet existed on the road to Bethlehem; he talked of the colouring of the vegetation, of the state of the rains, of the palms, and the waving of their branches towards Jerusalem. He enquired whether the roads had still the same turnings and the streams the same bends. He spoke of the seven wells about which Abimelech's servants disputed with Abraham's shepherds. But when I spoke of the Temple and the western wall, by which, on such an evening as this (they do so every Friday evening), the Israelites lean, and strike on their breasts in sorrow; when I spoke of the Mount of Olives, as seen from the white marble court where an ancient cypress still stands here and there; when I mentioned Turks walking in their Holy places and Mohammedans praying to their prophet there, the Jew rose, pale and furious, and with outstretched arms and loud voice he cried out, "If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning." It was a pleasant evening. The poor despised wretch had been transformed into a man-a patriarch; the Jewish love of gain into spiritual love, hopeless, yet true. Surrounded by German fog, and poverty of the most prosaic sort, I saw a poor timid little man changed into a son of light suddenly. Had he not a home of light in the east? there was his family, the greatest on earth; there was his country, the mother of all nations; and the very nations now treading his people under foot shall yet come, bearing their treasures to offer to victorious Jerusalem (Is. lx). Without the slightest difficulty I could now “I have been all round Hezekiah's pool, I speak of my Christian faith. that I loved him; he listened attentively as I spoke of the events that had occurred at Nazareth, Sichem, and Tiberias. I spoke at length, and fully, of the Lord Jesus, who had been like him—an outcast. He neither replied nor disputed, his eyes were fixed on the ground, and he rolled a chain of amber between his fingers. When I went away he accompanied me over the threshold, and touching the rod fixed on the right side of the door (the Mezuzah, or writing on the post, Hebrew words fastened in a case, kept by every pious Jew at his doorpost), he held my hand, according to the Arabic fashion, long in his, and then his voice betraying inward emotionhe dismissed me with a blessing. Jan. 1, 1867. From the day I arrived at these Baths I had been longing for the time to leave them, but now that day really had come I felt a strange reluctance to leave. I felt a strong desire once more to visit the walks, the meadows, the spots which formerly had seemed so tiresome. I was soon amongst the crowd. At a distance I saw amongst the visitors the same little Jew, the same I say intentionally, not him of the previous evening, no, but the one oppression had produced: the weak timid creature, the watchful, suspicious, ill-used, broken-down, Polish Jew. He saw me and disappeared, but what then? I knew what he was in his abasement, knew that under that humble exterior beat a free and noble heart. THE SANCTUARY OF JEHOVAH. A VOICE FROM MOUNT SINAI. NO. III. THE ARK OF THE COVENANT. AN Ark of indestructible wood, "Shittim" (a species of Acacia), was the first vessel ordered; it was about 4ft. 6in. in length, by 2ft. 6in. in breadth, and the same in height, overlaid within and without "with pure gold." A projecting raised "crown of gold," or rim, was fastened all round the upper edge to prevent the displacement of the Mercy-seat during the journeys. As the Ark was to be borne on the shoulders of the Levites, two staves were provided of the same wood, covered with gold, which passed through four golden cast rings let into the four corners. These staves were never to be removed, for the vessel was to be kept as if in constant readiness to accompany the Children of Israel in all their wanderings. Within the Ark were to be deposited the two tables of the testimony which Moses should receive; hence the vessel received the name of "The Ark of the Covenant," or "Ark of the Testimony."* A covering was commanded to be placed over the Ark, called "The Mercy-seat," fitting exactly within the golden rim; it was of "pure gold," at each end of which was a cherub of gold; these cherubim were not cast, but were, with the Mercy-seat, of one piece of gold Exod. xl. 20, 21; Deut. xxxi. 26. "beaten" into form, their faces turned toward each other, bending downwards, and their wings stretched forth on high, arching over the Mercy-seat. The Ark and its Mercy-seat must always be looked at as one vessel; and inseparable from the history of Israel as the nation and people of Jehovah; to whom it was and is* the unvarying symbol of the faithfulness and mercy of their covenant God, whose presence in their midst it proclaimed as a sure source, under all circumstances, of guidance, strength, final deliverance, and future glory. It was, moreover, the vessel to which all the others of the Sanctuary had reference. The Ark has two aspects: one, as the throne of the Grace of God during the Aaronic priesthood of the Lord Jesus Christ, of which He is the Mercy-seat, or propitiation, and is in connection with the work of atonement. The other aspect represents the throne of "the Lord of the whole earth," the seat of the great King, a throne of righteous judgment.‡ During Israel's history in connection both with the Tabernacle and Temple, the Ark was the place where, in consequence of its "Mercy*Rev. xi. 19. Josh. iii. 11. Ps. xcvi. 13; xcvii. 2; xcviii. 9. Nation seat," Jehovah could, in the person of the High Priest, meet with His people and govern them. His glorious presence being indicated by the Shechinah between the cherubim where He dwelt. A consideration of the form of this vesse 1 and of the materials of which it was composed, will lead us to the perception of its character and purpose, as an emblem of the future throne in Millenial Jerusalem, where Jesus, Son of Man, in His personal glory of Priest and King, will reign in righteousness. Shittim wood and gold were the only materials used. The former is translated "imperishable" in the Septuagint Version, and is therefore aptly taken (and I believe this is almost universally admitted by careful typical expositors) to represent the nature of the Messiah Jesus as Son of Man; that humanity of which the paschal lamb was an emblem, "without blemish and without spot," absolutely and intrinsically undefiled, and like the tree from which the wood of the Ark was cut, though growing on the earth, incorruptible, or incapable of taint from surrounding evil, and the power of both Satan and man. Gold is the most precious metal, and the fact that it is described here as "pure gold," tells of its perfect freedom from all alloy; it thus represents Divine excellence; so that whilst in the wood there is the expression of a heavenly standard of perfection in humanity; by the gold, both within and without, is signified a heavenly glory, consistent, or in harmony, with that holy humanity; the combination being beautifully significant of Jesus the King of Glory, and of the constitution of His throne. It was of Jesus, who was "born King of the Jews," that the angel Gabriel said to Mary, His virgin mother, "That HOLY THING that shall be born of thee, shall be called the Son of God." Here are both the Shittim wood and the pure gold. It should be distinctly understood that the gold signifies the glory with which the HUMANITY of the Lord Jesus was clothed in resurrection; to which He alluded when, speaking to His Father, anticipatory of His risen condition, He said, "The glory which Thou gavest Me," the glory which shone forth from His human body on the Mount of Transfiguration. This is the gold of the Sanctuary, and is distinct from the glory which, as the Eternal Son, He had with the Father * Luke i. 35. "before the world was;" the former he could confer on believers as in union with Himself, and is immeasurably beyond all human attainment. Compare the expressions in John xvii., verse 5, signifying the glory of the Eternal Son-one with the Father-with verse 22, which refers to the glory of His risen humanity, communicable to all believers, as the compliment of eternal life. The cherubim, wherever they are found in Scripture, signify the attributes of sovereignty and power in God, exercised in various ways, according to the object with which these celestial beings are seen in connection. They may be called the holy heraldic supporters of the govermental glory of God. Looking at the cherubim placed "at the east of the garden of Eden," by the light of those commanded for the mercy-seat of the Ark, it would apper that there were two, with a revolving sword-like flame between them; symbolizing the consuming power of God towards man as a sinner, should he seek access to the tree of eternal life by any other means than through death and resurrection.* In the book of Ezekiel, the cherubim are seen with their mysterious wheels employed in removing the Throne of Jehovah with its glory from the earth, on account of the wickedness of Israel, and their rejection, both of its authority and mercy.† In the vision of the Seer of Patmos, are displayed the cherubim (the "four living creatures" of Ezekiel i.) round about the throne of the God of the earth, ready with divine discernment to execute His threatened judgments. The Cherubim of the Temple are alluded to by David—where he describes "the secret places of the Most High," as the Almighty power that covered His own obedient and well-pleasing Son from all harm and danger during the period of His sojourn on earth.§ In the present instance we see them connected with the Throne of Grace, on the Mercy-seat; covering over the tables of the ministration of death; thus signifying the power of God in mercy rejoicing against judgment, through the atonement of the Messiahı Jesus, the divine supporter of the throne of God in righteousness. The above-mentioned aspect of the throne tells of the future purpose of God the Father concerning His Son. It has been the *Gen. iii. 24; Rev. xxii. 2. |