I
“I DO not think that the Tabernacle was a grand building, after all,” observed Lucius, “though there is so much written about it in the Bible. Why, it was only about forty-five feet by fifteen—not so large as the chapel at the end of the town, and not for one moment to be compared to the grand cathedral which we all went to see last summer.”
“There is one thing which you perhaps overlook,” said his mother; “when the Tabernacle was raised, the Israelites werea nation of wanderers, and had no fixed habitation. Their Tabernacle was a large, magnificent tent, made to be carried about from place to place by the Levites. Every portion of it was so contrived as to be readily taken to pieces, and then put together again. This could not have been done with a building of very great size.”
“Nobody could carry about the great cathedral, or even the little chapel!” cried Elsie; “but they were never meant to be moved, they are fixed quite firm in the ground.”
“The size of the Tabernacle was indeed not great,” continued Mrs. Temple; “but, besides its being filled with a glory which is never beheld now in any building raised by man, the treasures lavished on it must have given to it a very splendid appearance.It has been calculated that the gold and silver used in making the Tabernacle must alone have amounted in value to the enormous sum of 185,000 pounds!”
Exclamations of surprise were uttered, and Dora remarked—“Why, that would be enough to pay for the building of forty large churches as handsome as the new one which we all admire so much.”
“And the new church holds ten times as many people as the Tabernacle could,” observed Agnes. “I cannot think how a large nation like the Israelites could find space to meet in such a small place, only about twice the size of this room!”
“The Tabernacle was never intended to be to the Israelites what a church is to us,” remarked Mrs. Temple. “In the warm climate of Arabia the people worshippedin the open air, under the blue canopy of the sky; no building to shelter them was required, such as is needful in England. The men of Israel brought their sacrifices to the court of the Tabernacle, where, as you already know, the Altar of burnt-offering and the Laver were placed.”
Candlestick with 7 canclesTHE GOLDEN CANDLESTICK.Children’s Tabernacle.p. 52.
THE GOLDEN CANDLESTICK.
Children’s Tabernacle.
p. 52.
“But, mamma, what was inside the Tabernacle itself—what was so very carefully kept under those four sets of curtains?” asked Dora.
“The Tabernacle was divided into two rooms by a most magnificent curtain of rich embroidery called the ‘Veil,’” replied Mrs. Temple. “The outer room, which was double the size of the inner, was named the ‘Holy,’ or ‘Sanctuary.’ In this outer room were kept the splendid golden Candlestick with its seven branches, each supporting a lamp which burned all through the night, and the Table of Showbread, on which twelve cakes of unleavened bread were constantly kept—the supply being changed on every Sabbath.”
“Ah! I remember, it was that show-bread which was given to David when he was hungry,” said Lucius, “though it was meant to be eaten only by priests.”
“What other things were in the outer part of the Tabernacle?” asked Agnes.
“There was the Altar of Incense, my love, upon which sweet perfume was daily burned, so that the room was filled with fragrance.”
“You have told us, mamma, what was in the first part of the beautiful Tabernacle; but what was in the very innermostpart, the little room beyond the Veil?” asked Amy.
“That little room, about fifteen feet square, was called the ‘Holy of Holies,’ and contained the most precious object of all—the special symbol of the presence of the Most High. That object was the Ark, with its cover of pure gold which was called the ‘Mercy-seat,’ and on which were figures of cherubim, wrought also in gold, with wings outstretched. Over this Mercy-seat, and between the golden cherubim rested the wondrous glory which showed that God was with his people. David, doubtless, referred to this when he wrote in the eighteenth Psalm, ‘Thou that dwellest between the cherubims, shine forth!’”
“And were not precious things laid up in the Ark?” inquired Agnes. “Werenot the tables of stone on which the Commandments were written put into it?”
“And the Pot of Manna, kept to remind the people how their fathers were fed in the desert?” said Dora.
“And the wonderful rod of Aaron, that budded, and blossomed, and bore fruit; was not that also in the Ark?” asked Lucius.
“All these most precious and holy things were laid up in the Ark (or as some think in front of the Ark), beneath the golden cherubim,” replied Mrs. Temple.
“Oh, I should have liked above all things to have seen them!” exclaimed little Elsie. “I should have liked to have lifted up the splendid curtain-veil, and to have gone into the Holy of holies—ifthe light had not been too dazzling bright—and have looked upon all those precious things! Most of all, I’d have liked to see that wonderful Rod of Aaron, if it was the very very same rod that had once been turned into a serpent.”
Holy of HoliesTHE HOLY PLACE AND THE MOST HOLY PLACE.Children’s Tabernacle.p. 56.
THE HOLY PLACE AND THE MOST HOLY PLACE.
Children’s Tabernacle.
p. 56.
“Ah, my child, none of us would have dared to have lifted that Veil or to have placed a foot within the Holy of holies!” exclaimed Mrs. Temple. “No mortal was ever suffered to enter that place, most sacred of all, except the High Priest, and that but on one day of the year—the Day of Atonement. Aaron himself, the first High Priest, with trembling awe must have lifted the Veil, and approached the Mercy-seat over which the cherubims spread their wings of gold!”
Mrs. Temple spoke in so solemn a tonethat the children felt that the subject was very sacred, and none of them spoke for several moments. Then Lucius observed—“There is now no place on earth into which no one dare enter, like the Holy of holies in the Tabernacle of old.”
“No, my son, because the Veil has been rent in twain, and the Lord Christ, our great High Priest, has opened a free way for all believers, even into the Holy of holies where God dwells in glory for ever!” said Mrs. Temple, with even greater reverence in her manner, and clasping her hands as she spoke.
“Mamma, I cannot understand you!” cried Amy.
“These are the deep things of God, my love, and it is very difficult to explain their meaning to children. The Tabernacleand the things within it were types, or as we may call them, pictures of heavenly mysteries, revealed to us by the Gospel. But we will not enter now upon these difficult subjects. I think that you know a little about the appearance of the Tabernacle of which you are anxious to make a model, and also of what was contained within it. To understand the meaning of that holy place, and of its contents, will require much earnest thought and attention. We may perhaps converse a little about it to-morrow, which is Sunday. You will have abundance of time, as the fear of giving infection to others obliges me to keep you from going to church.”
I
“I WISH that to-morrow were any day but Sunday!” exclaimed Lucius. “Just when one is setting about a long work, eager to measure and to make, to cut and to clip, it is vexatious to have to stop in the middle of business, to shove away knife, ruler, pencil, pasteboard, and all, into a drawer for the next twenty-four hours!”
“Perhaps it would be better not to begin the work at all until Monday,” mildly suggested his mother.
“O no, we’ve all the Saturday afternoon, let’s set to making our model at once!” exclaimed Lucius.
“Please, please, don’t make us put off!” cried Dora and Elsie.
Mrs. Temple was a very indulgent mother, and was inclined to be all the more so as every one of her children was either suffering from whooping-cough or just recovering from its effects. Their mother felt sorry at the necessity for shutting out her family from many of their usual occupations and pleasures, and even from the privilege of going to church. The lady did not, therefore, in the least press the subject of delay, but offered, as soon as early dinner should be over, to go and search in her drawers and boxes for such materials as she might think suitable forthe model of the Tabernacle, which her children were so eager to make. The dinner-bell sounded while Mrs. Temple was speaking, and the family went together to the room in which they took all their meals, and gathered round the table which was spread with a plentiful, though plain repast.
While the young Temples are engaged with their dinner, let me introduce them a little more individually to my reader. There, at the bottom of the table, is Lucius, a sunburnt, pleasant-looking schoolboy, with a mass of brown, half-curly locks brushed back from his forehead. He has quick eyes and restless hands, which are seldom perfectly still, even if they have no better occupation than that of tying and untying a morsel of string; but theyare now busily plying a large knife and fork, for Lucius is a skilful carver, and the joint of mutton is placed before him, from which to help all the party.
The pale girl seated on the right of Lucius, with eyes weak and reddened by the effect of her cough, is Agnes, the elder of the twins. Her brow is furrowed, perhaps from the same cause, perhaps because she is more irritable in temper than her brother and sisters. But Agnes is a conscientious girl, one who thinks much of duty: and we may hope that “prayer and pains,” which it has been well said can do anything, will give her the mastery over faults against which she is trying to struggle.
Opposite to Agnes sits Dora, who, though her twin, is not much like her,being a good deal taller, prettier, and more animated than she. Dora is a much greater favorite with Lucius and the younger girls than the elder twin, from being gay, obliging, and clever. Agnes is perfectly aware that such is the case, and has to pray and strive against the sin of jealousy, which is too ready to creep into her heart and poison all her enjoyments.
On either side of Mrs. Temple are her two younger daughters, Amy and Elsie. The former, with soft brown eyes and long flaxen hair tied with blue ribbons, is strikingly like her mother, who has, at least so think her children, the sweetest face in the world. Amy has never been known to quarrel or utter an angry word, and is always ready to give help to any one who needs it. It is no wonder thatso gentle a girl is beloved. But Amy knows herself to be by no means faultless, and is much, on her guard against the silly vanity which a mother’s watchful eye has found out to be lurking in the mind of her dear little girl.
Elsie is a merry blue-eyed child, full of life and intelligence, forward—rather too forward for her age. She has for six years held the place of baby in the home of her widowed mother, and her family are rather disposed to indulge her as if she were a baby still. She enters with animation into the amusements of the elder children, and is by no means disposed to be seen and not heard, as Lucius often laughingly tells her that such little people should be.
The conversation during dinner wasalmost entirely on the subject of the model, and flowed on pleasantly enough, except when interrupted by coughing; but all the children were glad when meal-time was over, and their mother, with Amy and Elsie skipping before her, went off to hunt over her little stores for such materials as might be found useful. Lucius employed the time of their absence in exploring the lumber-room for tops of old boxes or other bits of wood that might, when fastened together, do for the ground-frame of the model, into which the gilded pillars might be fixed. Dora, with pencil and paper, busied herself in trying to make an embroidery pattern, introducing the figures of cherubim. Agnes, who was too weak for much exertion, and who took less keen interest in the work than did hersisters, lay on the sofa reading a book, until the return of Amy and Elsie, each of whom carried some little treasure in her hands.
“Look, Agnes, look at these shining reels of gold and silver thread!” exclaimed the youngest child with eager delight.
“Gold thread—ah! that’s just what I want!” cried Dora, throwing down her pencil.
“And here is mamma’s book of gold leaf; there is a little gold sheet between every one of the pages,” continued Elsie. “But oh! it is so thin, so very thin, one dare not breathe near, or the gold would all fly away!”
“I thought that gold was a very heavy metal,” observed Agnes, looking up from her book.
“But it is beaten out into such extreme fineness that a bit of gold no larger than a pea would gild all these,” said Lucius, who had just entered the room with his arms full of pieces of wood.
“See, Agnes, what we have brought for you!” cried Amy. “Here is a beautiful piece of blue merino for the outer curtains (the badgers’-skin cover, you know), and blue silk with which to sew it; and here is another piece of mohair for the goats’-skin cover, so you are supplied directly with everything that you need; is not that nice?”
Agnes did not look so much delighted as her sister expected that she would; perhaps because she was scarcely well enough to take much pleasure in sewing; perhaps because she had still a lingeringfeeling of mortification at not having been trusted with the embroidery part of the work.
“I hope that you have brought me the fine linen for the beautiful inner curtains, and the veil for the Holy of holies,” cried Dora.
“No, mamma cannot find any linen fine enough, unless she were to tear up her handkerchiefs, and that would be a pity,” said Amy. “But mamma has promised to buy some linen both for your curtains and for mine that are, you know, to hang all round the open court of the Tabernacle.”
“It is very tiresome to have to stop at the beginning for want of fine linen!” exclaimed Dora. “I hope that mamma will go out and buy us plenty at once.”
“Ah! Dora, you know that mamma owned this morning that she felt very tired,” said Amy, a little reproachfully; “and the shops are a good way off; it is not as if we lived in the town.”
“Besides, it is raining,” observed Elsie, who was looking out of the window.
“It is merely a little drizzle, that would not hurt a fly!” exclaimed Dora. “Mamma never minds a few tiny drops when she puts on her waterproof cloak.”
“Mamma never minds anything that has only to do with her own comfort,” observed Amy.
“So there is more need that we should mind for her,” said Agnes.
“I’m sure that I wish that I could go to the shops myself without troubling, any one!” exclaimed the impatient Dora. “Ifit were not for this stupid, tiresome infection, I’d get Lucius to go with me this minute, and would we not return laden with linen, pasteboard, and all sorts of things! But mamma’s fear of setting other people coughing and whooping makes her keep us shut up here in prison.”
“Mamma is quite right!” exclaimed Lucius. “I say so, though I hate more than you do being boxed up here in the house.”
“Mamma is quite right,” re-echoed poor Agnes, as soon as she recovered voice after another violent fit of coughing, which almost choked her. “I should not like to give any one else such a dreadful complaint as this.”
Mrs. Temple now entered the room, with several things in her hand. “I havefound a nice bit of red Turkey cloth,” said she, “so my little Elsie will be able to set to work on her curtains at once.”
The child clapped her hands with pleasure, and then scampered off for her little Tunbridge-ware work-box.
“I hope that you have found the linen too, mamma,” cried Dora; “I am in a hurry for it, avery greathurry,” she added, regardless of an indignant look from Agnes, and a pleading one from Amy.
“I am sorry that I have no suitable linen,” replied the lady, “but I intend to go out and buy some.”
“Not to-day, not now, it is raining; you are tired,” cried several voices; that of Dora was, however, not heard amongst them.
“I have here some pasteboard, though not sufficient for our model, and a bottle of strong gum which will be most useful,” said the lady, placing on the table what she had brought; “but gilt paper will be needed as well as gold leaf, and of it I have none; I must procure that, and some more pasteboard for my dear boy.”
“And plenty of wire, cut into five-inch lengths for the pillars,” added Lucius.
“And linen for Amy and me,” joined in Dora.
“But please buy nothing till Monday,” said Agnes; “the work can wait quite well for a couple of days.”
“Yes, yes, do wait till Monday,” cried the other children; Dora again being the only exception.
Dora’s selfishness was marring her offering,as Agnes’s pride had blemished hers. How difficult it is even in the most innocent pleasure, even in the most holy occupation, to keep away every stain of sin! Ever since the sad time when evil entered the beautiful garden of Eden, and Adam and Eve ate of the fruit which God had forbidden them to taste, pride, selfishness, and unholiness have been natural to the human heart. Even when we most earnestly try to do what we think good works, how much we need to be on our guard lest sin creep in to spoil all!
Dora, though silent, showed so plainly by her looks her extreme impatience to be supplied at once with the materials for which she could have so easily waited that her gentle mother made up her mind to gratify the wish of her daughter. Mrs.Temple put on her waterproof cloak, and, tired as she was, went forth on a shopping expedition. It vexed the children to see that the clouds grew darker and the shower fell more heavily not long after their mother had quitted the house.
“If mamma catches cold or has pain in her face it is all Dora’s fault!” exclaimed Lucius.
“It was so selfish—so silly not to wait,” observed Agnes; “just see how the rain is pouring!”
“I love mamma as much as any of you do!” cried Dora, her heart swelling with vexation, so that she could hardly refrain from tears.
“You love yourself better, that’s all,” remarked Lucius; and his words were more true than polite.
Mrs. Temple returned home very much tired and rather wet, notwithstanding her umbrella and waterproof cloak. And Dora was, after all, disappointed of her wish to have the linen and begin her embroidery work directly. Mrs. Temple had found it difficult to carry home parcels when she had an umbrella to hold up on a windy day, and had also feared that goods might get damp if taken through driving rain. The wire, pasteboard, gold-paper, and linen were to be sent home in the evening, and the longed-for parcel did not appear until it was time for the twins to follow their younger sisters to bed.
“This is the day when Christ arose,So early from the dead;And shall I still my eyelids closeAnd waste my hours in bed!“This is the day when Jesus brokeThe chains of death and hell;And shall I still wear Satan’s yokeAnd love my sins so well!”
“This is the day when Christ arose,So early from the dead;And shall I still my eyelids closeAnd waste my hours in bed!“This is the day when Jesus brokeThe chains of death and hell;And shall I still wear Satan’s yokeAnd love my sins so well!”
“This is the day when Christ arose,So early from the dead;And shall I still my eyelids closeAnd waste my hours in bed!
“This is the day when Christ arose,
So early from the dead;
And shall I still my eyelids close
And waste my hours in bed!
“This is the day when Jesus brokeThe chains of death and hell;And shall I still wear Satan’s yokeAnd love my sins so well!”
“This is the day when Jesus broke
The chains of death and hell;
And shall I still wear Satan’s yoke
And love my sins so well!”
T
THIS well-known hymn was on Amy’s mind when she awoke on the following day, and it rose from her heart like the sweet incense burnt every morning in the Tabernacle of Israel. But Dora’s thoughts on waking, and for some time afterwards, might besummed up in the words—“Oh, I wish that this day were not Sunday! How tiresome it is, when my beautiful pattern is all ready, not to be able to try it!”
tall altar with poles for carryingTHE ALTAR OF INCENSE.Children’s Tabernacle.chap. 6.
THE ALTAR OF INCENSE.
Children’s Tabernacle.
chap. 6.
Mrs. Temple did not appear to be much the worse for her shopping in the rain. Her children knew nothing of the aching in her limbs and the pain in her face which she felt, as she bore both quietly and went about her duties as usual. Dora did not trouble herself even to ask if her mother were well. It was not that Dora did not love her kind parent, but at that time the mind of the little girl was completely taken up by her embroidery in scarlet, purple, and blue.
As the children might not go to church, Mrs. Temple read and prayed with them at home, suffering none but Lucius to helpher, and letting him read but little, for fear of bringing back his cough.
All through the time of prayers, though Dora knelt like the rest of the children, and was as quiet and looked almost as attentive as any, her needlework was running in her mind. If she thought of the happy cherubim, it was not of their crying “Holy, holy, holy!” in heaven, but of the forms of their faces and wings, and how she could best imitate such with her needle.
I will not say that the other children thought about the Tabernacle only as a holy thing described in the Bible, from which religious lessons could be learnt,—little plans for sewing, measuring, or making the model would sometimes intrude, even at prayer-time; but Lucius had resolutely locked up his knife, and heand three of his sisters at least tried to give full attention to what their mother was speaking when she read and explained the Word of God.
Mrs. Temple purposely chose the ninth chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews, a very difficult chapter to the young, but one likely specially to interest her family at a time when the subject of the Tabernacle in the wilderness was uppermost in the minds of all. It will be noticed that Dora did not join at all in the conversation which followed the reading.
“Mamma, that chapter comes nearly at the end of the Bible, and is about our Lord and his death,” observed Lucius; “and yet it tells us about the Tabernacle, and its ark, and the high priest going into the Holy of holies. Now, what could theTabernacle in the desert have do with our Lord and His dying,—that Tabernacle which was made nearly fifteen hundred years before the birth of Christ, and which was no longer of any use after Solomon’s temple was built?”
“The Tabernacle, the ark, the high priest, the sacrifices were allTYPESor figures of greater things to come,” replied Mrs. Temple. “There was a secret meaning in them all, referring to our Lord, His work, and His death, and the glorious heaven which He was to open to all believers.”
“I don’t know what a type is,” said Elsie.
“It is not clear to me either,” observed Amy.
“Unless we quite understand what atype means, we shall lose much of the lesson conveyed by the wanderings of the children of Israel, and the long account of the Tabernacle, what was in it, and what was done there, which we find in the books of Moses,” remarked Mrs. Temple.
“It always seemed to me as if that Tabernacle were quite a thing of the past,” said Agnes, “and that it belonged only to the Israelites of old. I never could make out why Christian people in England, thousands of years after the Tabernacle had quite disappeared, should care to know anything about it, the ark, or the altar.”
“But you say that all these things were types,” observed Amy. “Now, what is a type, dear mamma?”
“A kind of shadow or picture of somethingusually greater than itself,” replied Mrs. Temple.
“I don’t understand,” said Elsie, raising her blue eyes gravely to the face of her mother.
“You know, my love, that before you came to live in this house, when none of the family but myself had seen it, you still had some little knowledge of what it was like.”
“Yes, mamma, for you brought us little pictures of the house, both of the back and the front,” said Agnes.
“We knew that it was a pretty white house, and had a little tower on one side, and that trees were growing in front, and creepers all up it!” cried Elsie.
“Now, I might have described the place to you in writing, but you would not haveknown its appearance as well as you did from the pictures,” observed Mrs. Temple.
“No, from a mere description I should not have been able to find out the house directly as I did when I walked alone from the station,” cried Lucius. “There are several white houses near this, but the remembrance of the pictures made me know in a moment which was the right one.”
“Now, my children, just what a picture is to the object which it represents, so is a type to its antitype; that word means the real thing of which it is a likeness,” observed Mrs. Temple.
“I am afraid that I am very stupid in not making out what you mean at once, dear mamma,” said Amy; “but if you would explain just one type in the Bible, I think that I might understand better.”
“Let us take, then, the innermost part of the Tabernacle, the Holy of holies,” replied Mrs. Temple. “It was a very beautiful place, full of the glory of God, into which no objects were allowed to be but such as were precious and pure; there was the mercy-seat like a throne, and there were the bright cherubim spreading their golden wings. Now, my children, if we compare small things to great things, cannot you of yourselves find out of what this Holy of holies was a picture or a type?”
“A type of heaven!” exclaimed several voices at once; but Amy looked distressed, and murmured softly, “I hopenota type of heaven.”
“And why not?” asked Lucius, quickly.
“Because no one was ever allowed togo into the Holy of holies save one man, and he only once in the year,” replied Amy, sadly.
“And thatnot without blood,” said Lucius, pointing to the seventh verse of the chapter which his mother had just been reading.
“Go on reading, Lucius,” said his parent, and Lucius, as desired, went on. “Not without blood, which he offered for himself and for the errors of the people, the Holy Ghost thus signifying that the way into the holiest of all was not yet made manifest.”
“Or, in simpler words,” said Mrs. Temple, “that the way into heaven was not yet made plain. When Christ, our great High Priest, had gone into heaven,neither by the blood, of goats and calves, but by His own blood He entered once into the holyplace, having obtained eternal redemption for us.”
“Then, mother, the high priest must have been aTYPEof the Lord Jesus Christ!” exclaimed Lucius.
“No,” interrupted Agnes, “the sacrifice was the type, the sacrifice whose blood had been shed.”
“Both high priest and sacrifice were types of our blessed Saviour,” replied Mrs. Temple. “The Lord was the victim offered, and He was also the high priest who made the offering, for He laid down His life of Himself, since no man had power to take it from the Almighty Son of the Most High.”
“Was there any particular meaning in the veil of the Temple being rent in twain from the top to the bottom, as soon asour Lord died on the cross?” inquired Agnes, who had been listening with serious attention.
“We cannot doubt it,” answered her mother. “The Temple was the far larger, more substantial building which took the place[A]of the Tabernacle of the wandering children of Israel; it, too, had its veil of rich work to shut out from mortal view the Holy of holies. But as soon as the One great Sacrifice had been offered on the cross, when the dying Lord could cry out ‘It is finished,’ then followed the rending asunder of the hiding veil, as a sign and type that all the Lord’s people, through His precious blood, might freelyenter heaven, the real Holy of holies, and appear without dread of meeting His wrath in the presence of God the Father.”
FOOTNOTE:[A]The Temple standing at the time of our Lord’s death was not Solomon’s, which had been burnt more than six hundred years before.
[A]The Temple standing at the time of our Lord’s death was not Solomon’s, which had been burnt more than six hundred years before.
[A]The Temple standing at the time of our Lord’s death was not Solomon’s, which had been burnt more than six hundred years before.
T
THE subject of the preceding conversation had been so exceedingly solemn that even little Elsie had a grave look of awe on her round rosy face, though she could understand but little of the great mysteries of which her mother had been speaking. Elsie could only gather that a type was like a picture of something much greater and more wondrous than itself, and said in her simple, childish way, “Is not a type like your very tiny photo, mamma, so little that we could not make out thatthere was any picture at all till we held it up to the light, and then we could see the Queen’s great palace quite plain?”
“Elsie has given us a type of a type!” cried Lucius, clapping his little sister on the shoulder.
“What do you mean by that?” asked Agnes.
Lucius was puzzled to explain his own meaning, which was perhaps not very clear to himself, so his mother came to his help.
“Elsie’s very minute photograph is not a bad illustration of what Bible types are,” remarked Mrs. Temple. “They look small, and might almost escape notice, until the eye of faith sees them in the clear light of God’s Word, and then what seemed little more than a speck,may be found to be a likeness of something grander far than a royal palace.”
“It would be interesting to find out some other Bible types,” observed Agnes.
“I was just going to propose that while I attend afternoon service, you should all occupy the time of my absence in each finding a type, which we can talk over in the evening,” said Mrs. Temple.
“I should like that!” cried Lucius; “I am glad of anything to make the afternoon less dull; for I know that as it is damp to-day we shall all have to keep within bounds,” he added, Agnes having just begun a fit of coughing.
“I should like to find a Bible type if I could, but I’m afraid that I am too stupid,” said Amy.
“You and me, we’ll try together,” cried Elsie, laying her plump dimpled hand on that of her sister.
“Ah! you think that union is strength, Pussie!” cried Lucius; “and that you two youngest of the party will together be a match for any one of the rest.”
Little Elsie’s brain had now been quite long enough on the stretch, and after jumping upon her mother’s knee to give her “a good tight kiss,” the child ran off to play with her Noah’s Ark. The family then dispersed to various parts of the house, soon to reassemble at the cheerful sound of the dinner-bell.
After Mrs. Temple had started for church, Lucius, Agnes and Amy took up their Bibles to search in them for types, while little Elsie amused herself with a book of Scripture pictures. Dora went tothe room called the study, in which the children usually learned their lessons in the morning, and amused themselves in the evening, and in which they kept their workboxes and desks, and most of their books. Dora found no one in the study, and sauntered up to the side table, covered with green cloth, on which stood her neat little workbox.
“Of course I am not going to do one stitch of my embroidery to-day, because this is Sunday,” said Dora to herself. “But there can be no harm in just looking at my pretty pattern, and seeing whether it is likely to do for the inner curtains and veil.”
Dora opened the box, and took out the pattern which lay on the neatly-folded piece of linen which her mother had givento her just before the twins had gone up-stairs to bed. Dora admired her own pattern, which was realty drawn out with some skill, but she saw that it was not quite perfect. Her pencil lay close at hand; Dora could not, or did not, resist the temptation to put in a few touches to this and that part of the drawing.
“I wonder how I should arrange the colors,” thought Dora; “I wish that I had more scarlet in my reel, and I think that my blue skein is too dark; Agnes has some sky-blue sewing silk, I know. Perhaps that would be better, or both shades might have a pretty effect, mixed with the scarlet and purple.”
Dora took out her reels and skeins, and placed them beside her pattern, and tried to imagine the effect of the different combinationof color. Would it be well for the cherubim to be worked in purple or blue, or entirely in thread of gold, like their wings? Dora was inclined to think the last plan best, only gold thread is so stiff, and difficult to manage.
“I shall never go to rest till I have made up my mind about this,” muttered Dora to herself, “and how can I decide what will be best till I try? And why should I not try?” Dora, with her colored silks before her, was, like Eve, looking at the forbidden fruit, and listening to the voice of the Tempter, who would persuade her that evil was good.
“There are some things which even mamma says are quite lawful to be done on Sundays, such as charitable works. Mamma herself dressed the cook’s scaldedarm upon a Sunday, and put in a stitch or two to keep the bandages firm.Thatwas surely sewing on a Sunday, but then that was a work of charity. Well, but mine is a work of charity, too.” Thus Dora went on, while the dangerous current of inclination was gradually drifting her on towards breaking in act the Fourth Commandment, which she had all day long been breaking in thought. “Our Tabernacle is to be the model of a holy—a very holy thing, just the kind of a thing which it is right to think about on Sunday. Then it is to be made for a very charitable purpose. I am sure that bandaging the cook’s arm is no better work than helping a ragged school; I don’t think that it is really as good, for aunt’s poor little pupils are taught to love God and read theBible. No, it surely cannot be wrong to assist such an excellent work on any day in the seven.”
Dora unrolled a length of blue silk, took out a needle and threaded it. She had almost succeeded in silencing conscience, at least for a time; she had almost persuaded herself that in amusing herself she was helping a holy cause; and that God would not be displeased at her breaking His commandment, because she was going to work for the poor. There is, perhaps, no more dangerous error than to think that the end justifies the means—that it is lawful to a Christian to do evil that good may come. Oh, dear young reader! if you ever find yourself trying to quiet conscience by the thought that to do a great good you may do a little harm, start backas if you caught sight of the tail of a snake in your path! Yes, for the serpent who deceived Eve is trying to deceive you also. If Dora had been honest and candid with herself, she would have seen, as her fingers busily plied the needle, that she was really working for her own pleasure; that her embroidering a piece of linen was an utterly different thing from her mother’s bandaging a badly-scalded arm, and relieving a sufferer’s pain. To cases of necessity such as that, the Saviour’s words truly applied—“It is lawful to do good on the Sabbath-day;” but there was nothing to justify Dora in following her own inclination, and working on the day appointed for holy worship and rest.
If there was really no harm in what she was doing, why was it that Dora startedso when she heard her mother’s voice at the door of the study, and why did she so hurriedly thrust linen, pattern, and silks back into the workbox as her gentle parent entered the room?
Dora’s back was turned towards the door, so that, from her being between it and the table, Mrs. Temple could not see the cause of the little bustling movement which she noticed on coming into the study.
“What are you doing, my love?” asked the lady.
“Nothing,” answered Dora quickly, as she succeeded in shutting down the lid of her workbox. The word was uttered in haste, without reflection; but the instant after it had passed her lips a pang shot through the young girl’s heart, for she was awarethat, perhaps for the first time in her life, she had uttered a downright falsehood. Conscience could be silenced no longer; the second sin into which Dora had been drawn by her fear showed her in a strong light the nature of the first, into which she had been drawn by her love of amusement. If she had not been doing what was wrong, she would not have been afraid lest her occupation should be found out by her tender, indulgent mother.
Mrs. Temple never doubted the word of one of her children, but she could not help thinking that the manner of Dora was strange, and she would probably have inquired further into its cause, had she not just then been followed into the study by Lucius. The boy had his Bible in his hand, and a thoughtful, perplexed look onhis face, which at once fixed the attention of Mrs. Temple. Dora was glad that her mother’s attention should be drawn by anything from herself, for otherwise she could not have hidden her confusion. She seated herself on a stool by the window, with her face turned away from her parent, and there remained a silent listener to the following conversation between Mrs. Temple and her son. Whether that conversation was likely to make Dora’s conscience easier or not, I leave the reader to judge.