to rebel; and in time so serene and peaceful becomes the spirit's even flow, that few may guess the original nature it bore, and God alone may witness its conflicts, while all around benefit by its triumphs. He only can help through the conflicts; and he will not fail to reward and bless the 66 more than conqueror." THE resemblance borne by many of the rites and ceremonies of paganism to those of the Jewish ritual has often been remarked, and generally attributed to the faint and distant echo of revelation, finding its way through the traditions of ages, but often distorted into something cruel, abominable, or absurd. Thus the institution of sacrifice was given by God to fallen man, to teach him, not only that" without shedding of blood is no remission" of sin, but that he might with hope and joy look forward to that gracious Saviour who afterwards "appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself;" "* but the rite has, over the heathen world, been perverted into the horrors of infanticide, and other human sacrifices. There is, however, one instance in which a trace has been preserved of that mercy and love towards ruined sinners so beautifully shadowed forth in the Levitical law. This solitary instance is recorded by the missionaries to the Sandwich Islands, where they found sacred enclosures, called by the natives puhonuas, which bore a striking resemblance to the Israelite's cities of refuge. One in the island of Hawaii, where our great navigator, Captain Cook, was killed, has been particularly described. It was 715 feet in length, and 404 feet wide, enclosed by walls which were 12 feet high and 15 thick. It is curious that in these walls were to be seen several pieces of rock, and also of lava, which must have weighed more than two tons each, and were raised at least six feet from the ground. As the natives possessed no machinery, the erection of these walls must have been a most laborious task. Judg ing by their appearance, they must have been of ancient date. This puhonua is capable of containing a multitude of people; and in time of war the women, children, and old *Heb. ix. 22-26. men of the neighbouring districts were left within it, where they were safe, whatever might be the result of the conflict. It was also a place of refuge to the vanquished of either party, a white flag being unfurled on the top of a tall spear, at each end of the enclosure, where it waved the symbol of hope, and beyond which the pursuer must not advance, on pain of forfeiting his life, as the priest would immediately put to death any one who molested those within the sacred pale. Hither also not only the manslayer but the murderer might resort for safety; so might the thief, or he who had broken the requirements of their idolatrous system. In fact, all who could reach the gates of the enclosure, which were always left open, were perfectly safe; and, after remaining for a certain time in houses there fitted up for the accommodation of the refugees, might return unmolested to their homes and families, none venturing to injure those who were once received and protected by the gods. Concerning the origin of this, as well as of other heathen institutions which resemble those of the Israelites, there has been a variety of opinions. Whether these sacred enclosures were traditionally derived, and by what means, from the Israelitish cities of refuge which they so much resemble, is a curious and interesting question that can probably be settled only by learned research. Meanwhile, in reading or hearing of this and other pagan ordinances, or even of the Jewish ritual derived from God himself, but still only "a shadow of things to come,' our hearts should not be insensible to the privilege we enjoy of walking in the light of gospel truth, and should glow with gratitude in knowing that though Could give the guilty conscience peace, Or wash away the stain: Yet Christ, the heavenly Lamb A sacrifice of nobler name, And richer blood than they." And if the poor heathen gladly availed himself of the refuge provided for his preservation from bodily evils-if with anxious heart and hurrying step he pursued his course to that place of safety where the white flag waved * Col. ii. 17. a direction and a welcome, shall not we, always pressing forward "toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus,"* strive to be found among those "who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us?" The Saviour invites us, with all our sins and sorrows, to come unto him for rest and safety; he is ready to save to the uttermost those who do so; and truly may we say, "His banner over them is love." Love provided the refuge; love directs us towards it, for we are "led by the Spirit" to seek it; and there love receives us, and rejoices over us "§ for ever. "Jesus, lover of my soul, Let me to thy bosom fly, Hangs my helpless soul on thee; Still support and comfort me.' THE LONELY COTTAGE. Ir was a fine afternoon, as little Margaret and her mother set out on their walk along a beautiful lane in South Devon. Rising in the distance was the rugged rocky point of the hill called by the Devonshire people "the Tor or Beacon," which Margaret said was like a great giant looking out over the trees. 66 Mamma," asked the child, after some time, much further to go?" "have we "No, dear; only to the little cottage you may now see all alone on the moor." 66 Yes, mamma, there it is: I see it now. How lonely it must be to live there always, and not even to be able to run out on the moor and gather the pretty heather. Is Janet very unhappy, mamma ?" "We will ask her, dear," said Mrs. Grey: "here we are." The cottage was very small, with a thatched roof, which had evidently been often repaired to keep out the wind and rain. Only one little window looked out on the wild moorland; and on its ledge, in a little pot, was a bright scarlet geranium in full blossom, while the porch was *Phil. iii. 14. † Heb. vi. 18. Matt. xi. 28. § Isa. lxii. 5. Such covered with the graceful hops that twined up it. was the home of widow Brown and her little crippled daughter Janet; and there sat Janet, 'just inside the door, in her little chair, with a book on her knee: very lovely she looked, with the bright sunlight resting on her fair hair, and making it look like gold. "Does she look unhappy, Margaret?" whispered Mrs. Grey. "Good evening, Janet," she said, in a louder voice. "Oh! Mrs. Grey," said Janet, her whole face lighting up; "how kind of you to come! Please take a chair, ma'am; and the young lady." "This is my little girl, Janet, that I have brought to see you. She thinks you must lead a very sad life, so many hours of the day all alone, while your mother is out at work." 66 At first it did seem Oh, no, miss, I do not mind now. very hard when the doctor said I should never walk again; and though the pain is very bad at times, yet, now I have found my Saviour, I can never feel alone. Oh! ma'am, before that it used, indeed, to be a very sad life. I can never thank God enough for that day which brought that sweet lady to this door to tell me of a Saviour's love." "Will you tell me about it, please?" said Margaret. Gladly, miss, if you will care to listen. It is ten years that I have not got further than this cottage door; for since I was six years old I have not been able to walk, in consequence of a fall, which injured my back. Well, it is just two years last month that a young lady called Miss Mcame to stay for her health in the village; for the doctors thought that the clear fresh air from the moor might be of use to her. One fine afternoon she went for a walk towards the Beacon, when, just as she got near here, rain began to fall. She came to the door and asked if she might stand inside. I said, 'yes,' and asked her to take a seat. I was very glad of the company, as mother was out, and I was very lonely, with no one to speak to all day; and she looked so gentle and delicate that I was not at all afraid of her. Then she questioned me about myself; and I told her, and said, I only wished I had been killed, instead of being left to live a miserable cripple all these years. She looked almost, I thought, like some bright being from another world, as she laid her hand on me, and said, 'Poor child, did you ever think of what it is to die? What hope have you in your death?' "I was startled, though I did not quite know what she meant. Then she told me I was a sinner; that if God took me at my word, and deprived me of life, then I must spend eternity in misery, with the devil and his angels; 'but,' she continued, 'God does not wish any one should perish. Listen to what he says in his blessed book;' and she took from her pocket a little Testament, and read to me from John iii. 16: how ' God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.' Then she told me the story of the cross, and how that for my sins Jesus wore the crown of thorns and the purple robe, and had his hands pierced with the nails, and was mocked, and buffeted, and spit upon, and crucified, and rose again, and ascended to heaven; and before she went she knelt down and prayed that God would give me his Holy Spirit, that I might indeed believe that I was a great sinner, and Jesus was a great Saviour. 66 Well, miss, she went away; and for days and days I was, oh, so miserable! Mother used to wonder what was the matter with me; but I could not tell her, though the thought that I was a sinner, and if I died I should perish for ever, made me so wretched. "About a week after, Miss M- came again, and brought me this Bible," continued Janet, holding up the book she had on her knee when they came in ; "and 'twas in it I found peace, 'peace that passeth all understanding.' While Miss M- remained she used often to walk up and sit and talk with me. I remember, one day, a heavy shower came on while she was here. She told me to look out at the rain and the dark clouds as they rolled along the sky: it looked so gloomy, you might almost have doubted if the sun ever could shine. She asked me why it rained? I said, "To make things grow.' Just so, Janet,' she replied; God has so caused it, that the sun's heat draws up vapour from the ocean and rivers: this forms into clouds, which the wind causes to float about until they become too heavy, and they then again fall on the earth in rain, giving freshness and beauty to the parched ground; and so He deals with his people, and sends on them the dark clouds of sorrow; and perhaps he allows you to-day to be a little cripple, that you may grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord.' Believe, dear child, he does not afflict willingly." |