( \ Ex Libris C. K. OGDEN SUNDAY THOUGHTS, MRS. GELDART. SUNDAY THOUGHTS; (Swat Crafts in Ikitt SECOND EDITION. MANCHESTER : W. BREMNER & CO., 11, MARKET STREET; LONDON : A. HALL & CO., AND F. PITMAN; NORWICH : JARROLD & SON. MRS. T. GELBART, Author of "Daily Thoughts for a Child," &c. &c. than to see how the heart, which is born with us is part of ourselves, in fact our very being can be re-made or created anew. Let us try and see this clearly, by looking at the circumstances of which Christ spoke to Nicodemus when he said, " As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up." The children of Israel, on their way to Canaan, had a wilderness to pass through. The travelling there was painful, and often trying to their faith ; and they were far from patient and trustful in God, or in Moses their leader. On one occasion, when they had come a long way round by the land of Edom, their rebellion and impatience were such that they complained of the food with which God provided them. They spoke against God and against Moses too, and asked angrily, " Why they were brought out of Egypt to die?" The con- sequence of their sin was a very fearful punishment. 10 SUNDAY THOUGHTS. God sent fiery serpents among the people, and the bite of these serpents was certain death. So frightful were their numbers, so dreadful the sufferings they caused, so incurable their bite, that terror and sorrow spread through the camp, and the people went to Moses and confessed their sins, begging him in their misery to pray to the Lord for them, that the serpents might be taken away : and Moses prayed for the people. God heard his prayer, but he did not cause the ser- pents to disappear as by a miracle. He did not make the sick and dying well by his word. He might have done this in a moment; but God's way of healing the Israelites had a deeper meaning. He wished to show them by this lesson how, one day, the world should be saved by Christ on the cross. And so he bade Moses make a fiery serpent of brass like the real serpent, and place it on a pole in some open spot, where all could see it, and tell them to look at that serpent. Try and picture the scene. The crowded camp the frightened, awe-struck Israelites the patient, gentle Moses, calling to the people to look at the pole, and at that which hung thereon the faint, dying, poisoned multitude the serpent still at work among them. And was this all they were to do ? Exactly so. They were to look that was all : there were not, as we read, any other means used. They had only to believe God's assurance, that when they looked they should live, and to prove that belief by looking. The look implied faith in God's promise, and in God's power to cure them. They could not tell how the look cured them, nor why ; but God had said so and that was sufficient. THE VIRTUE OF A LOOK. 11 They knew they were ill unto death; the bodies which lay pale and cold in many a tent told them this. They were dying j they felt sure of that, and they eagerly listened to the promise of relief. No matter how ill the sufferer, he was dragged from his bed that he might see the wonderous pole. Mothers bore young children in their arms to look on it. Children helped the weak and fainting parent. " Look, only look !" must have been the echo in the Israelitish camp that day : and those lived who looked. The dying body received new life ; the feeble, wailing tone of anguish was changed suddenly for one of joy and brightness ; the glazing eye was full of light ; pain, and fear, and danger, fled at the moment that the eye fixed itself on the brazen serpent. There was no process to go through, no long, slow way of recovery, but at once the change took place, as from death to life : and what a change is that ! It was to this scene which Jesus directed Mcodemus, and here was the answer to the question, "How can these things be ? How can a man be born again when he is old ?" Here, in that serpent of brass, was the likeness or type of Christ. See the resemblance in every point between the cure of the Israelites and the cure of the sinner. As -the diseases are alike, so are the remedies. The Israelites were bitten by the fiery serpents ; we are bitten by sin. They were sure to die of their bites ; and sin must destroy us, for God says, " The soul that sinneth it shall die." The brazen serpent was .made in the likeness of the fiery serpents, but without their poison ; so Christ was made in the likeness of sinful man, but without the 12 SUNDAY THOUGHTS. sting of sin. The serpent was lifted up on a pole ; Christ was lifted up on a cross. A look at the serpent of brass healed the bite of the fiery snakes ; a look, a trusting look, at Christ on the cross, heals the disease of sin, gives life instead of death to the soul. It is the only cure, and can never fail, for it is God's own appointed cure, and we must accept it because God offers it. This cure it is which gives the new heart, the new birth, the entrance of a new life. As you look at Christ the change takes place. Suppose the Israelites, instead of looking at the brazen serpent, had looked and mourned over their swollen limbs and poisoned bodies, they would have died. So you, if you only look at your sins and at your own hearts, may keep on praying sorrowfully all your lives through, but will never lose the disease itself. To pray, to watch, and strive against sin, is good and right indeed; but it is not by prayer that the new heart comes. It it were to be obtained by prayer, Christ would have said so in his lesson to Nicodemus. But he did not. He said, "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up : that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." In Jesus Christ and him crucified is your safety, your cure, your life. As you look at him bleeding and dying for you, such love, such joy and hope will spring into your hearts that you will feel like the Israelites, made as new men. THE VIRTUE OF A LOOK. 13 There will be no need to tell you then that you ought to love Jesus, or to entreat you to love him. As soon might we tell a shipwrecked mariner, that he ought to love those brave men who came through the surge in the life-boat to save him from drowning, and risked their lives for him, as need to tell the sinner saved from everlasting death by Jesus, that he ought to love his deliverer. They but risked their lives : Christ gave his. And now you can answer the question, "How can these things be?" The answer is found in looking to Jesus Christ the crucified One, as putting away sin by the sacrifice of himself. The change of heart, the new birth, the new feelings, the new love, the new life, will take place as soon as you see in Jesus, as he hangs upon the cross, your Saviour from sin. " And they journeyed from mount Hor by the way of the Eed Sea, to compass the land of Edom : and the soul of the people was much discouraged because of the way. "And the people spake against God, and against Moses, Wherefore have ye brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness ? for there is no bread, neither is there any water ; and our soul loatheth this light bread. " And the Lord sent fiery serpents among the people, and they bit the people ; and much people of the children of Israel died. Therefore the people came to Moses, and said, We have sinned, for we have spoken" against 14 SUNDAY THOUGHTS. the Lord and against thee; pray unto the Lord, that lie take away the setrpeats from us. And Moses prayed for the people. " And the Lord said unto Moses, Make thee a fiery serpent, and set it upon a pole, and it shall come to pus?, that every one that is hjtteti, when he looketh upon it, shall live. "And Moses made a serpent of brass, and put it upon a pole, and it ca.me to pass, that if a serpent had bitten any man, when he beheld the serpent of brass, he lived." Numbers, xxi. 4 9. The worst of all diseases, Is light compar'd with sin ; On every part it seizes, But rages most within. From men great skill professing, I sought a cure to gain ; But this prov'd more distressing, And added to my pain. At length this great Physician, How matchless is his grace, Accepted my petition, And undertook my case. A dying risen Jesus, Seen by the eye of faith, At once from anguish frees us, And saves the soul from death. Come, then, to this Physician, His help he'll freely give ; He makes no hard condition, 'Tis only look and live. NEWTON. CHAEITY WHAT IT IS NOT. "Though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor * * * and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing."! Cor. xiii. 3. %-fcfi RICH man is sitting by his blazing fire on \j\h Christmas eve. He has a beautiful house, stand- 2^^ ing in its own fine sloping park, among trees e)<$f(3 beneath whose shade his ancestors had for many hundred years walked. Gilded cornices and fine pictures adorn the walls ; curtains of crimson damask, full and flowing, shut out the wintry blast. The Turkey car- pets are like the soft moss to the foot, and the table is spread with an abundant evening meal. In his purse is many a glittering coia. In the bank are stores of wealth. Yet he is not a miser, he gives plenteously, and is called a charitable man. He is looking over a long list, just brought to him by lys steward a list of Christmas gifts to the poor on the estate coals, blankets, warm clothing, and good nourishing food. There were gifts of money too. Every servant had his and her Christmas present ; and the very kitchen girl rejoiced in the two half-crowns added to her wages. The children, belonging to schools the rich man had built, were counting on their dinner on the morrow ; and the twelve old folks in the alms' houses talked much of the 16 SUNDAY THOUGHTS. roast beef and plum-pudding which they were to receive. Indeed, there was scarcely such a village known for gifts ; for the gentleman had no family, and could well uiford to be liberal. A stranger came into the place that night, and whilst waiting at the inn for a horse and carriage, to convey him to the hall, he heard some labouring men talking freely Of the squire. " Oh, a real charitable gentleman he is," said one old man ; "a very good gentleman is Mr. Harcourt. He speaks rough, but he does a lot of kind things." " Huniph," said another man, " he has got no heart, has the Squire. For my part, I'd rather be without his beef and his coals this Christmas, I would." "What do you mean?" asked a younger man, taking his pipe from his mouth, and looking puzzled. "I mean," replied the other, "that he gives hard words, and that I don't like to take gifts from them as speak unkindly. I don't call that charity, / don't." " Hard words ! how 1 " " Why, when he sees a fellow working at his fences, he never misses fault-finding. Says he, sometimes, 'Bill, there's a fence clipged ; do you call that work?' and then he runs on and says, I'm an idle and good-for- nothing chap; and he never gives one a kind 'good moining,' when you touch your cap to. him, but only a bit of a growL" "Well, there's truth in that," said another. "He conies past our cottage sometimes ; and last Saturday as was-a-week, he came and found fault about our rent running back, as it did, I know, owing to the child's CHARITY WHAT IT IS NOT. 17 death ; and what my missis felt more, when she set a- crying, he said, ' Oh, ah, you ought to be very thankful ; your child is better off; there's one less of you.' But, as my Mary said, ' He don't know what an empty place my baby has left in my heart.' And then seeing her cry more, he threw down half-a-crown ; and what do you think my missis said to me? 'John,' she said, 'I'd . rather have had him say, ' poor thing, poor thing,' in a kind way like, than take a guinea of him. There lays the half-crown, John, and I feel as if the bread I might buy with it would choke me." The traveller listened. He was a grey-haired old man ; a friend of the squire's childhood. He had not seen him for many years, but was now cpme to spend his Christmas with his former pupil, and was grieved to hear his good name evil spoken of. He was soon beside the rich man's fireside, and was yet more grieved to hear the complaining tone in which, in the midst of luxury, he indulged. As the two friends drew close to the fire after tea, the younger man said " Here I am, you see, living a dull sort of life, and often a miserable one. I think the world has grown ungrateful Would you believe it 1 ? here's a list of my Christmas gifts, and I don't believe that out of all these there will be half-a-dozen thankful. It makes one tired of charity." There was .a pause. At length the old friend said, " Perhaps there is some mistake in your views of charity. Have you ever, since you were a child, thought of that chapter in the Bible that describes charity as something more than alms -giving?" 18 SUXDAY THOUGHTS. The gentleman turned uneasily in his chaii, and said, "No." " Shall we read that chapter? It seems a good close to Christmas Eve." The squire consented, and his old tutor began. They came to the third verse : "And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing." " Ah ! " he said, " that is just the point. What does the text mean ? I'm sure I thought I was charitable ; but, perhaps, I am wrong." His old friend looked up very kindly, but sadly: " Doing good to others will be no act of charity unless it be done from love to God and good- will to men. If we give away all we have to feed the poor, without such love to God, it is of no worth.- Charity is not alms-giving. A few kind words in loving sympathy from a Christian heart, are of more value than money." Mr. Harcourt coloured; he remembered at that moment the scene in the poor man's cottage ; and, perhaps, his friend remembered it too, for he said, "What think you would a woman in sorrow for a dead child say to a mere gift of money ? Would that comfort her ? Would she thank you for that money as she would for a little true sympathy a Little Christian kindness ? Do you think i/hat servants who live with you, and have all their real wants supplied, value such gifts as much as they would kind consideration and gentle judgment of their faults ?'' "You are right and I am wrong," cried the pool- rich man ingenuously. " My charity profits me no- thing. I am a miserable, unloved man. My wife is CHARITY WHAT IT IS NOT. 19 dead, and I made her life miserable. I loaded her with gifts, but she died broken-hearted, because I was always so cold and heartless. Alas ! I find I have not any charity after all." It was a sad sight to see that proud man weep be- side that Christmas fire ; and long after the sound of the midnight bell had died away in the frosty air did his faithful friend tell him some great truth which, if he had heard before, he had quite forgotten ; and, meek -as a little child, he listened to an explanation of what true Christian love or charity is. The last words of which he thought that Christmas Eve were these " Kow abideth faith, hope, charity, these three ; but the greatest of these is charity." Many young voices awoke him early with their Christmas carol, and the words they sang were these. They were not common for such an occasion, and who prompted the little singers I cannot say, but the verses made a deep impression on the rich man's heart : " Speak gently, it is better far To rule by love than fear ; Speak gently, let not harsh words mar The good thou wouldst do here. " Speak gently, love doth whisper low The vows that true hearts bind ; And gently friendship's accents flow ; Affection's voice is kind. " Speak gently to the little child, Its love be sure to gain ; Teach it in accents soft and mild ; It may not long remain. 20 SUNDAY THOUGHTS. " Speak gently to the young, for they Will have enough to bear ; Pass thro' this world as best they may, 'Tis full of anxious care. " Speak gently to the aged one, Grieve not the careworn heart ; The sands of life are nearly run, Let such in peace depart. " Speak gently kindly to the poor Let no harsh tone be heard ; They have enough they must endure, Without an unkind word. " Speak gently to the erring know They may have toil'd in vain ; Perchance unkindness made them so Oh, win them back again !" Poor Mr. Harcourt's conscience told him that he had never won any heart by kind, gentle words. His harsh ones had marred all his deeds of charity. The lads and village girls shrunk away as he passed along. The old man scarce dared to offer him a greet- ing, the poor trembled as he passed their threshold. The servants of his household how many had he dis- missed, censured, and judged unjustly, when kindness might have won them back ; and, worst of all, he had no love in his sorrowful heart to God God who had given him all things which he enjoyed. He knelt down by his bedside that Christmas morning, and with an humble spirit cried, " God be merciful to me a shiner!" CHARITY WHAT IT IS 'Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity vannteth not Itself, &c. M 1 Cor. xiii. 4. ^Vk*^ FEW weeks after that sorrowful Christmas Eve, firwl an d that memorable Christmas morning, the rich Sf$W man, by no means happy yet for he had only ems seen his sin, but not the remedy for sin was walking in his park, when he saw a little delicate boy, heavily laden with sticks, making his way to a cottage in the village street. It was Saturday afternoon, and most of the village children were playing on the green, rejoicing in the bright February sun. He overtook the child, and asked kindly for he had never forgotten the "speak kindly" carol what he was so busy about. " I am trying to get Mrs. Aldred some wood for a fire," he said, "she is very old and ill, and can't get out herself." "That cross old woman!" answered the gentleman. Why she has but a bad name in the parish for her temper. What makes you so kind to her? Did she ever do you a good turnl" "I don't know that ever she did," answered the boy, "Well, but what?" 22 SUNDAY THOUGHTS. "That doesn't make any difference. " "Will she be thankful and speak kind to you when, you carry in the wood?" "Perhaps she may, and perhaps she mayn't, but that wont matter." "What do you do it for, you must have some reason to be sure." "No; qply the reason that she wants help, and it makes no difference whether she is good or bad, if she wants a kindness done." The boy looked up at the bright February sky as he spoke, in which was a full promise of a coming spring, and smiled. "What makes you smile, boy?" "I was only thinking, sir, God made the sun to shine on the evil and the good, and so we ought to do good to all, hoping for nothing again." "To be sure," said the rich man to himself, "this is charity." He followed the lad to that miserable cottage, and standing behind the door, saw him kneel down before the low hearth, pile up the wood, and light the fire, and then place the kettle on, and prepare the widow's tea. "Surely she will say 'thank you,' at least," said he to himself as he watched the boy at lii.s labour of love. The squire forgot how many services were rendered to him, daily, by his household, for which he gave no thanks ; and how thankless he was to Him who did far more for him than the boy for the widow. "Oh, deary, deary!" said the poor woman, fretfully. " What a sight of dirt you have brought in, you tire- CHARITY WHAT IT IS. 23 some boy ! See there, and you've spilt the chips about, and what a smoke and pother* you are making!" "I'm very sorry," said he; "it was very careless, pray excuse me. Good bye, I will come and see after your fire again soon," and he went pleasantly away. "Well, is that all you get for your pains ?" asljed the gentleman. "Not always, sir; but I know, for all she is a bit cross, she is glad of a fire to make her kettle boil, and that wont boil the worse because she is put out. I did it for that reason, not for her thanks." "Ah," thought the gentleman, "I must look at that chapter on charity again." "Good bye, my boy." And he went away sorrowful, for he felt that what- ever else he had, he had not charity. He pondered on the words as he went along, "Charity suffereth long, and is kind." The village child was an illustration of the very virtue on which he once prided himself ; but he, what did he really know of it ? Nothing. He could not forget the boy, and next day he went to his parents' house to talk with his*mother, a simple country woman, but a good Christian mother. A little pale girl was lying on a rude couch by the fireside, and he saw at once that she was ill. . A visit from the squire was so rare a favour that a flush came to her face, and the mother looked rather flurried. "That's a fine boy of yours," began the visitor. "1 mean that little fellow who goes and makes the old woman's fire every day.'" 24 SUNDAY THOUGHTS. "Ah, sir, you may say so," she replied, "and lie is a good son and a good brother, too, isn't he Polly?" Polly's eyes filled as she said, " Yes, indeed." " Does he go to school 1 ?" asked the gentleman. " Yes, sir, at least he did, till poor Polly fell ill, and we began to see where we could pinch, and he offered to give up his schooling for a quarter, and learn himself at home. He loved his school, but he is a good lad and does not envy those who can go; it is better to give up, he thinks, what one really likes, and he is glad God gave him the opportunity." Again that charity which envieth not, thought Mr. Harcourt. "And does he never boast of it, as though he thought he had done some good thing, given up some great thing I mean?" "What, Jem ! Oh no, no, sir, not a bit of it. He is humble, I hope, is Jem. He always says, you know, sir, that the best things we can do are of no merit, and that the more we think of what God has done for us, the less pleased we shall be with what we do for one another." " Charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up," thought Mr. Harcourt, and became less satisfied with his own sort of charity. Here had he. been, priding himself on things which had cost him no self-denial, no effort, and had even flattered himself that God would be pleased with him. Oh, he was wrong, all wrong. He had felt it some- what on Christmas morning ; he had tried, afterwards, to be more kind and gentle to his servants and the poor neighbours; but he felt still more now there was some- CHARITY WHAT IT IS. 25 thing wrong at "bottom. The boy, perhaps, could tell him. Several days passed away and he did not see the little lad. Company came to the hall, and various matters put it out of his head. At length, one day, when taking a lonely walk< he saw the boy again at his old employment. " I should like to have that boy on my premises," he thought. "I will ask him if he Tjrould like to be under the gardener." " Jem, come here." Jem came, and the gentleman asked him the question; and not a little surprised and disappointed he was to hear a refusal, perfectly civil and polite, but very decided. "I know my mother could not spare me, sir," he said. " I hope 'tis not proud to say so, for 'tis but little I can do, but Polly looks to me to drag her out, and mother says I'm handier with the little ones than the other boys, and so, sir, I'd rather not ; but if you would try my next brother, he's a good boy, and I think he would suit you very well, and he'd like it 1 know." " But would you not like it ?" " Yes, sir, that I should, but that is not the matter John would like it too. Pray try him, sir." " Seeketh not her own," thought the rich man. "Here is charity indeed." "Jem, did you ever read the 13th chapter of Corinthians?" " Oh yes, sir, it's a favourite one of mine." " Well, you have read it to some purpose, I think. You have got hold of the true sort of charity." The boy shook his head. " Ah sir, 'tis one thing 26 SUNDAY THOUGHTS. to know, another thing to do. I wish I could have more of that charity." ' " You seem to me to have a fair share, my boy, at any rate." " Oh, sir, please don't talk so to me ; it makes me feel worse rather than better than others." "How is it," said Mr. Harcourt, "that you are so patient, so kind as I hear and see you are 1 Where could you learn this charity ?" " Out of the Bible, sir ; at least I am learning it." " Learning it !" " Yes, I must learn it of Christ. He always seems to say, whenever I look at him on the cross, ' If I have so loved you, you ought also to love one another.' Why, sir, no one can love or do too much for him who has loved us so as to die for us." " Yes, but this charity of yours to your fellow- crea- tures is what I cannot make out to that cross old woman for instance." " Ah, sir, but that's the very thing. It seems to me, when she is cross and thankless, that this is just how we treated God so long, and just how we treated Jesus. I lived a long while in the world without thanking God for his great gift. I think, sir, if we do really love Christ, it comes all easy to love one another. If we don't, it is hard to do so." The gentleman did not answer, but when he went home he thought still more of the simple teaching of the village youth, and saw how it was that he had no charity. The fact was, he had no love to Christ. With all his knowledge, all his impressions, he had CHAKITY WHAT IT IS. 27 nover yet felt the need of a Saviour from sin. He had yet to learn the meaning of the words of Christ, "They that are whole need not a Physician, but they that are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance." He found it hard to love his fellow creatures, because he did not love Jesus. But a time was coming wh^h that love was to melt his heart, and true Christian love was to spring from that neAV fountain. Years passed away; many a white hair streaked the rich man's head, and the visitor to his Christmas hearth would have seen a great change in the owner. He was looking over his list of Christmas gifts with his old steward. There was something a little sad in his tone, but the cause was different. "What a great deal of sorrow and sin there is in the world," he said, "and how little one can do to remove it. Just think what a little spot of the world this is, and yet, here, there seems plenty to do." "You have done your part, sir," was the old steward's reply. " You may feel tolerably happy about that, I think, on this Christmas eve at all events." The squire shook his head. "It is so little, so very little," and then running his eye over the list, he said, "How is it poor Meadows' name is not down, nor Brown's either 1 The winter is very severe. I should like Brown to have blankets like the rest, and the money too ; and Meadows, he must have his cottage well looked to, and made comfortable. 1 shall expect 'to see that done next time I call Poor fellows !" "But sir," answered the steward, "think what a b?d 28 . SUNDAY THOUGHTS. tenant he is, how ill he has treated you, how he has injured your property, and tried to hurt your good name among the other tenants; and as to Brown, he was a bad, faithless servant. Surely you don't mean to give him anything." " Indeed, I do," was the reply, "God has had pity on me, forgave me my great debt, sent his Son to die for me, who have been a worse servant to him than have either of these men. Shall I not then mercy upon them as he had on me 1 Put down their names, and take my best wishes with the little gifts, and may God add his blessing." " My master has the right sort of charity at any rate," said the old steward to himself. "He is a good man, and has got a Christian's love." "What a blessing," thought the squire, as he sate by the fire that evening, alone, " to have money to give, and to have anything in one's power to relieve distress. It is all God's loan, and such an honour to give it back to him in helping his poor." "Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small ; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life ! my all ! " THE MIDNIGHT FEAST. ' And it shall come to pass, when your children shall say unto yon, What mean ye by this service ? that ye shall say, It is the sacrifice of the Lord's Passover." Exodus xii. 26, 27. was silence in the dwellings of the |A Egyptians, for night was drawing on. The tejjg old man rested from his labour; the baby slept &S in the cradle. The plagues with which God had visited Pharaoh, because of his hardness of heart, had caused sorrow and terror; but, for the present, they were passed away, and with the plague the repentance or remorse had departed. It was silent on the river's banks that wonderful river which had so lately seen the judgments of God. Again it flowed, but no longer with blood, and the pestilence and the darkness which had been sent to tho land were withdrawn; but still there was no relent- ing in the king's heart towards the poor Israelites. Pharaoh slept in his palace that night; he had bid Moses depart, threatening him that if ever he came into his presence again, he should die ; and Moses had left hun with the words, "I will see thy face no more." The plague, the last plague, had been threatened in the proud king's ears, but it had made no change in his purpose; and now, as he lay in liis royal palace, 30 SUNDAY THOUGHTS. with the recollection still fresh of God's truth in per- forming his word, he -would not, even to save his child, or the children of his people, yield to God's command. Mid- night was drawing on, but the plague was not yet come. Had you visited the houses of the Israelites that night, you would have seen business and expectation on^ every face. They had heard God's message to them through Moses, and already the flocks had been sought for the best and finest of their lambs, which was to have no blemish, no spot, no defect of any kind, for the lamb was for a great and solern^ purpose. For some days this young lamb had been kept in the house, each house of any size being provided with one. It had been killed thai evening, and the lamb's blood had been preserved. Had a stranger passed through the quarter where the Israelites lived, before night-fall, he would have seen sprinkled on the two side-posts, and on. the upper door-lintel, drops of that blood. It was a sign which the angel would know when he should come at midnight, a sign that the house was to be saved, to be passed over by him. The lamb was to be eaten that night ; nothing was to remain till the morn- ing; or, if any remained, it was to be burned with fire. Think what a scene it must have been, in each Jewish family father and children all prepared for the journey which was to free them from their bondage, and be the first step on their way to the promised land. How must their hearts have swelled with hope, and gratitude, and awe, as they thought how nearly the hour was come when the angel, God's messenger, should visit the houses of the Egyptians, and should smite not the THE MIDNIGHT FEAST. 31 eldest child of the king alone, but the first-born of the captive in the dungeon, of the servant at the mill, and of all the cattle. Prepared and reverent they stood, the staff in their hands, the loose dresses, such as are worn in Eastern countries, and which you may have seen on Turks and Persians, fastened up or girt, so that there might be no hindrance to their walking quickly, shod as for a journey, too, and at last eating the feast in haste, as the Lord had told them. Hark! What a cry was that which fell on the travellers' ears ! The Egyptians, they knew, often made loud cries when death visited them, but such a cry as this, surely, never rang through the land before a bitter, terrified, wailing cry. The angel of the Lord had come, indeed ! The new-born baby, who had but -'ust drawn the breath of life, was stretched lifeless on its mother's arms. The child, whose merry prattle had begun to cheer the Egyptian home, was dead too. The palace was not spared, for the dying agony of Pharaoh's first-born awoke the monarch from his sleep, and soon his cry was joined to that of his people, for the king had a father's heart, and his child, his first-born child, was dead. But there was no death, no sorrow in those houses where the blood was sprinkled. And why] There had been a lamb killed there that night, and where the lamb was killed, and its blood sprinkled, there was no death nor suffering. And at morning dawn the freed and happy Israelites went forth with their leader from the land of slavery and sorrow, to the number of six hundred thousand, and proved, indeed, that the Gfod of Israel was a true and faithful God. 32 SUNDAY THOUGHTS. Now, we have, in this midnight scene, a very great and beautiful truth. This passover feast is a type of Christ. Do you ask the meaning of the word type 1 ? It means, literally, a figure. We have many types of Jesus in the Old Testament, but none more important in its signification than that of the passover. Well might Moses tell the people to remember that feast, and well may we call on you, dear children, to remember the passover. See how, all through the history, Christ is figured. The lamb was to be without blemish and without spot. Jesus was sinless, the perfect, holy and undefiled one. The blood of that lamb was to be sprinkled on the door-posts and on the lintel, and those on whose dwel- lings the sign was seen, were saved, or passed over, when God's messenger came. So the blood of Jesus, sprinkled on your hearts, trusted to, believed in, will save you. The whole of that lamb was to be eaten. So you must believe in Christ wholly, accept him as an entire Saviour, believe that he is perfect God and perfect man, and able to save you entirely. Some people think it sufficient to believe in him as a man, holy, good, and sinless, indeed, but only a man; but who would trust their salvation to a human being liable to weakness and to sin 1 Could you have trusted Moses ? Surely not. Moses sometimes failed in wisdom and in obedience himself; Moses was not sinless. Moses might be a leader, but he was no Saviour. Could you have trusted an apostle 1 Ah no, not even John, who was called the beloved disciple; THE P2JSONEE AT THE BAR "There is, therefore, now no condemnation to them that are Christ Jesus." Ilom. viil 1. ONDEMNATION ! Children, can you understand the meaning of this word ? The scene which J will try and draw for you, will, I hope, make it clear. First of all, you must go wi |h me to an old city, and as you enter that city you will hear the sound of bells ringing, and the peal of a trumpet sounding. Heads are peeping out of many a street window, and there is a procession coming across a wide plain, called the Castle Meadows. First come the trumpeters, playing a solemn air ; then come the carriages, containing the Sheriff and the Judge, and at last they draw up before u great stone building, called the Shire Hall. Just above that hall, at the top of a high hill or mound, there rises a larger building still. The walls are strong and thick, and they contain within them other strong, grey, thick walls, which were built many years ago, and as they began to moulder they were encased by those we now see. This is the keep of an ancient castle, and is now used for a prison. Within those castla Avails are manv anxious hearts 36 SUNDAY THOUGHTS. on this day. Prisoners are there, and that trumpet-sound said to them, plainly as sound could speak, " Come to judgment." Yes, they are awaiting their condemnation. They are not condemned yet, they are only committed to jail on suspicion of crime ; but before they are con- demned they have to be tried, and to be judged. This is the reason that the judge is come. At last the judge takes his seat in the court, there is a sudden hush, for the man that is first to be tried, is to be tried for his life. If found guilty, he will be condemned to death. There are many persons in the court to hear the trial, and around the judge are ranged counsellors and lawyers, and the twelve juiymen appointed to give the verdict, or decision, after they have heard the case. There are witnesses there also, some who are witnesses for the prisoner, some against him; and one by one these witnesses appear in the box, as the space is called where they stand to give their evidence, and to be questioned by the judges. At the bar stands the prisoner. His face is pale with anxiety, and several weeks of imprisonment have done so much to change it, that his oldest friends in the court would scarcely have known him again. The solemn question is put "Do you plead guilty, or not guilty 1 ?" The solemn answer, clearly heard in that crowded court, is, "Not guilty," and then the trial begins. How serious a trial, the end of which is to acquit or to condemn ! The story comes out, the accusation is made; how that, on one wintry night, when sleep was closing the eyes of some people in a quiet village, and the stars alone seemed to keep watch, a lonely widow, thought THE MIDNIGHT FEAST. 33 nor any one of those seventy whom Jesus sent forth. They were all sinners, needing a Saviour themselves, and how we should tremble to trust our souls to them! No, Christ must be received whole, into our hearts God and perfect man ; God manifest in the flesh. The lamb was eaten with bitter herbs. So we must receive Christ with deep, bitter sorrow for our sins. But for our sins Christ need not to have died. He was the sin-offering. Without shedding of blood, under the Jewish law, there is no remission; and so without the shedding of the blood of Jesus, God, who declared that the soul that sinneth should die, could not have saved our souls. But it is not enough to believe this with respect to others. You must believe that Christ died for you that the Lamb was slain for you. Do you think that it would have availed for one of the Israelites to have said, "Oh, it will do just as well if my neighbour sprinkles the blood on his door-post, we live so very near to one another; besides, we are all together, far away from the Egyptians' dwellings. The angel will 110 doubt pass over my house." I think you will see at once how dangerous and how foolish such a course would have been how certain to have ended in sorrow and in death. And so with you. A good father may pray for you, a good mother may lead you to pray, good friends and teachers may use all their efforts to bring you to Jesus, but that is all They cannot believe for you. No one can believe for you, however good, however holy. The blood of Christ must be sprinkled on your hearts, ov 4 34 SUNDAY THOUGHTS. for you Christ's death will avail nothing. Go, then, with your hearts in all their sinfulness, to the Lamb of God. Behold in him your Saviour. Receive his atone- ment; and when the messenger of God comes to you, and sees the blood of Jesus sprinkled on your heart, you will have no cause to fear. The body, indeed* must die, but the soul which that blood has washed will live for ever in heaven, if you can say, "Christ my Passover was sacrificed for me." " Then Moses called for all the elders of Israel, and said unto them, draw out and take you a lamb accord- ing to your families, and kill the passover. And ye shall take a bunch of hyssop, and dip it into the blood that is in the bason, and strike the lintel and the two side-posts with the blood that is in the bason and none of you shall go out of his house until the morning. For the Lord will pass through to smite the Egyptians; and when he seeth the blood upon the lintel, and on the two side-posts, the Lord will pass over the door; and will not suffer the destroyer to come into your houses to smite you. e And the children of Israel went away, and did as the Lord had commanded Moses and Aaron, so did they. And it came to pass, that at midnight, the Lord smote all the first-born in the land of Egypt, from the first-born of Pharaoh that sat on his throne, unto the first-born of the captive that was in the dungeon ; and all the first-born of cattle. And Pharaoh rose up in the night, he, and all his servants, and all the Egyptians ; and there was a great cry in Egypt, for there was not a house where there was not one dead." Exodus ziL 21. 30. THE PRISONER AT THE BAR. 39 Think, if you can, what a moment that will be. The judge is sitting on his throne, and the witnesses are there too. The witnesses our conscience; God's broken law, and Satan, the great accuser. But who is the Judge 1 No angel, no created being, nor saint, nor prophet, nor apostle, however holy; but Jesus, the Son of God, he who was once the Saviour of the world. And there are two groups in that enormous multitude ; one on the right, the other on the left of the throne. Those in the left-hand group are downcast and fearful; they know full well that their condemnation is sure. They see only the judge there, for they do not see in him their Saviour. They well remember that when he would have won them to love him, and to trust in him on earth, and to be his own children, they tnrned away, and chose the service of the world and of Satan. They well remember that, when feeling their sins heavy, and their consciences afraid, although the Redeemer had said, Look unto me and be saved, they would not look, but sought other ways of salva- tion than simple faith in him. Some tried to make their righteousness and goodness save them; but that goodness will not save them now. Some had gone to other mediators; but, alas, where are those me- diators now? As they look at that great throne they wish, oh, how vainly ! that they had accepted the offer of the Judge, while yet there was time, to mediate between them and God. There is condemnation in store for them, they see it written on the judge's face. And those in the other band are they, too, under condemnation? No, oh, no ! Fearful as is the scene, 40 SUNDAY THOUGHTS. awful, solemn, beyond what we can imagine, yet a soft, calm thought, the same which made their death-beds happy, stills every fear. There is no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, and looking at that Judge in his majesty, they see the face of their Saviour, their kind, their loving, gentle, faithful friend. They hear no condemnation from his voice, who bought them with his blood, who died for them, and who gave him- self for their salvation. They broke his Father's law. Yes, they were guilty of that; but what then? Christ kept it for them; they gave liim their sins, and he gave them his righteousness. They are in Christ Jesus, his own bought, ransomed, saved children and throughout eternity they will rejoice that to them there is no condemnation. That you may stand at the right hand of Christ, your Judge, then, what must you do now? I will tell you. Believe on him, trust him, and you shall never hear that solemn word, "Depart," but the happy wel- come, " Come, come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. " For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous." " For he hath made him to be sin for us, Avho knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him." THE rKISCJTER AT THE BAR. 37 to be very rich, had gone to rest with no one in the country cottage with her but her young servant maid, and how next morning this widow was found dead in her bed, and the treasure gone. The servant is examined, and swears that the man at the bar was that murderer, and other witnesses come forward and say that this man, who lived at a town, four miles off, was not there at the hour when the murder was supposed to have taken place. And so one thing after another comes out to prove it, until the very lawyer, who is going to plead for him, seems to lose heart; and the man hears in all this evidence against him the condemnation threatened. Then the judge sums the evidence all up, and the jury go out to decide, and return after a tune, when you might hear a pin fall on the floor for the silence, and might almost count the beatings of that prisoner's poor, anxious, fluttering heart. Then the judge speaks, and his voice rings loud and clear in that vast hall, as he asks the twelve men if they find the prisoner at the bar guilty or not guilty. And they answer oh, how solemnly "Guilty." There is now but one thing more, and the scene in the hall is over. The judge has to speak the word of condemnation. He tells the criminal then, in awful tones, that the sin is proved against him, and that according to his country's laws he must die. Death is a solemn visitant, even on a bed made by loving hands, soothed by gentle care, and brightened by a Saviour's presence. But death, such as awaits the prisoner, a death in public, and by violence, in shame and disgrace, ^-itli t.Ko