this kind, the converted natives were collected to- | which it appears to me that the text may be gether in one place, and could thus be more readily viewed. instructed; while they enjoyed the additional advantage of being separated from the evil example and influence of their heathen neighbours. THE OFFERING OF ISAAC: A DISCOURSE. BY THE REV. Alexander CHRISTISON, "And Isaac said, Behold the fire and the wood; but The incident, which goes by the name of the offering of Isaac, possesses, in almost all its parts, a typical character. Abraham, as presented in it to our notice, is a type at once of God, when "he spared not his own Son, but delivered him for us all;" and of the man, to whom the call of duty is never addressed, but it meets with the response, “Behold, here I am;" and who is ready, should it be the Divine pleasure, to make the greatest and most unlooked-for sacrifice. In like manner, Isaac, as he appears in this transaction, is symbolical of our Saviour. For, as Isaac makes no resistance to the decree, which appoints that he shall be offered in sacrifice; so, when it is proposed in the counsels of heaven that Jesus shall, in our nature and stead, die for sin, in the same moment he says, "Lo, I come; in the volume of the book it is written of me; I delight to do thy will, O my God." Isaac climbs the hill, upon which he is to suffer, bearing the wood, amid the conflagration of which he is to be consumed Jesus toils towards Calvary under the weight of the cross. Isaac is laid bound on the altar: the hands and feet of Jesus are nailed to the tree. But, checking the inclination to trace the symbolical nature, which pervades nearly every thing connected with the offering of Isaac, I would limit myself to the typical sense, in I. For when Isaac inquires, under the circumstances noticed at the outset of this Discourse, "Where is the lamb for a burnt-offering?" may it not be considered as a representation of the perplexity of man, when, with the light of nature alone, he has sought a sacrifice of efficacy for the remission of sin? Whether we peruse the history of ages, which are long since gone bye; or we profit by the spirit of enterprise, by which modern days have been distinguished, and which has left no habitable part of the earth unvisited; every where, and in every time, we meet with vicarious sacrifices-that is, with the infliction of death as an act of worship, in the hope that the punishment, which is due to the sinner in his own person, may be transferred to his victim. Go to the valley of Hinnom in the reign of Manasseh; listen to the momentary screams of the infants, whom their parents have just flung into the flames, as an offering to Moloch; and, while you turn away from the hateful scene, reflect that it affords an example of the impression among the ancient heathen, that "without the shedding of blood"—of the blood most dear to us-" is no remission." But it may be said, that the worshippers of Moloch were in a state of the utmost barbarism and corruption. Be it so. Go, then, to Rome, in the day in which she has reached her height of glory and refinement: see a hundred victims falling, as one sacrifice, under the knife of her priests; and, while the ground beneath you is noisome with gore, know that among the most civilized, as well as the rudest of heathen antiquity, the conviction was mooted, that "without the shedding of blood, is no remission." But, alas! similar testimonies are to be met with in our own time; for the blessed day is yet distant, when the high places of heathenism shall be every where overthrown, and "the word of the Lord have a free course, and be glorified" with a circuit ample as that of the material sun. The inhabitant of one dark corner of the earth, where patriarchal simplicity still reigns, approaches his God with the blood of the firstling of his flock; 'while the citizen of a different and a more civilized, but as to spiritual matters equally benighted, clime, prostrates himself on the highway, in order that he may be crushed with the wheel of the gigantic car in which his idol is borne along in periodic and glorious procession; thus showing that, in modern as in ancient times, it is the impression of the natural man, that "without shedding of blood, is no remission." But whether, in times of old, the apostate Israelite caused his children to pass through the fire in the valley of the son of Hinnom, or the Roman presented his hecatomb, for a vicarious sacrifice; whether the heathen of the present day propitiates his deity with the firstling of his flock, or with the same view is, by his own act, crushed by the wheel of the chariot in which his idol is enthroned; was not, and is not, the inquiry of the natural man, "where is the lamb for a peace-offering," as much at a stand as ever? What reason was there to conceive it possible that "the blood of bulls and of goats should take away sin?" Where was the relation between the victim and the sinner whom it represented? and what proportion in value was there between its death and the object to be accomplished? Though Lebanon had been stript of her "goodly cedars," and "the cattle upon a thousand hills" had been rendered mute, in order that they might furnish the wood and the victim of one mighty sacrifice, could even this have been of sufficient value towards the expiation of sin? Could it have been accepted in heaven, and yet the moral government of God upheld, and his hatred against iniquity duly declared? But it is superfluous to reason upon the inadequacy of every sacrifice which the heathen could, and can, devise for the expiation of their guilt. What firm and permanent satisfaction could they feel, while they ever left the altar, like Cain, unblest with any token from above that respect had been had to their offering? St Paul informs us, that our Lord "was raised again for our justification;" under which, besides other things, is implied, that by his resurrection, the efficacy of his death, the satisfaction of Divine justice was declared to the world. If, therefore, notwithstanding the many and most remarkable proofs which were given down to the moment when Jesus expired upon the cross, that "God was in Christ reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them," if it was still necessary that he should visibly ascend from the tomb, in order that our faith in the success of our sacrifice might be complete; what confidence would the heathen have in his offering for sin-an offering, at best, of no natural virtue for the production of such an effect -an offering of his own device-an offering to the acceptance of which no testimony was borne from heaven? In short, the sacrifices of the pagan would have been ever attended by the same result, as those of the prophets, who contended with Elijah, and who called on the name of their idol "from morning even until noon, saying, O Baal, hear us! but there was no voice, nor any that answered:" and the man, unenlightened by the Gospel, has ever retired from the performances of sacrifice, without having made any advance in the inquiry, "where is a lamb for a sin-offering?" Thus have I been led by the words of the text, "where is a lamb for a burnt-offering," to speak of the perplexity of all (and the term all includes the whole heathen world), who, under the direction of their unassisted reason, have sought a sacrifice of efficacy for the remission of sins. But there were some in every period of the Mosaic dispensation, who nobly rose above this perplexity, and confided in the interposition of God for the redemption of the world. II. May not their expectation be suggested to us by the words of Abraham, "My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt-offering." How "mercy and truth were to meet together," in other words, how God was to be at once just and gracious in his ways towards a sinful world, is a difficulty, of which we have always had the solution, and which, therefore, we may be apt to regard as of no very formidable nature; but which in truth is such, that, unless God had been pleased "to speak of it, at sundry times, and in divers manners, unto the fathers," they must have been uncheered by the faintest prospect of the mode in which propitiation was to be made for iniquity. But the light which was so much wanted, was also freely imparted. No sooner had man fallen, than he received the promise of restoration; and for ages afterwards, through the inspiration of God, prophets announced, and poets sung of the Messiah's advent with such distinctness, that we are prone to fall into the dream that they describe a past, instead of a far-off, occurrence. And, in order that the prospect of redemption might be kept alive, and rendered more definite among the chosen people, God was pleased to appoint a number of sacrifices, which should be typical of the death of our Lord; and of which the most solemn and significant was the offering for sin, presented in the name of the whole Jewish nation, on the great day of the annual expiation. This typical character of the legal sacrifices, and especially of the sin-offering, is traced at length in the Epistle to the Hebrews. "The first covenant had ordinances of divine services, and a worldly sanctuary. There was a tabernacle made; the first wherein was the candlestick, and the table, and the show-bread; which is called the sanctuary. And after the second veil, the tabernacle which is called the holiest of all; which had the ark of the covenant, and over it the cherubims of glory shadowing the mercy-seat. Now, the priest went always into the first tabernacle; but into the second went the high-priest alone once every year, not without blood, which he offered for himself, and for the errors of the people: The Holy Ghost thus signifying," (the apostle is now to explain the import of these institutions) "that the way into the holiest of all was not yet made manifest, while as the first tabernacle was yet standing: which was a figure for the time then present. But Christ being come a High-Priest of good things to come, by his own blood entered in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us. Not into the holy place made with hands, which are the figures of the true, but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us: Nor yet that he should offer himself often, as the high-priest entereth into the holy place every year with the blood of others; but now once hath he appeared, to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself. Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many. The bodies of those beasts whose blood is brought into the sanctuary by the high-priest for sin, are burnt without the camp. Wherefore Jesus, that he might sanctify the people with his own blood, "suffered without the gate." It is true that the institutions by which the Messiah was prefigured, as well as the predictions in which he was directly announced, were grossly misunderstood by the Jews in general; who, therefore, were as much in the dark as the Gentiles, with respect to the mode in which sin was to be expiated. Yet there were some at every stage of the ancient economy, to whom the law and the prophets did not in vain speak of the Saviour's coming. Thus, we are informed by the writer to the Hebrews, that "by faith," that is, through the belief and the correct interpretation of the promise that the seed of the woman should bruise the head of the serpent," Abel offered unto God a more acceptable sacrifice than Cain ;" and that he, and many after him, "died in faith, not having received the promise," or blessings promised, "but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them." In like manner, Jesus declared unto his disciples, "Verily I say unto you, that many prophets and righteous men have desired to see those things which ye see, and have not seen them; and to hear those things which ye hear, and have not heard them;" and of Abraham, in particular, he remarks, that the patriarch "rejoiced to see the day" in which the Messiah was to be manifested; and he saw it, and was glad." Neither would I omit the notice of an incident which occurred at the presentation in the Temple: "Anna, the prophetess, coming in that instant, gave thanks unto the Lord, and spake of him to all them that looked for redemption in Jerusalem." We can form no adequate idea of the feelings with which the holy and enlightened under the old dispensation looked forward to the advent of the Saviour. If there are worldly occurrences, and the contemplated approach of which we lose the faculty of sleep, and the sun seems to stand still in the midst of heaven, what must have been the feelings of Abraham, while his prescient spirit dwelt on the greatest event which was to happen in the flight of time the redemption of the world through the cross of Jesus? The mother who knows that the crisis is at hand which is to determine whether the sickness of her child is to be unto death or life; the voyager, whose vessel has been cast at midnight upon an unknown coast, and by whom his own sufferings are unfelt, and the roar of the waters, and the wailing of his companions in misery are unheard, amidst the intentness with which he watches for the morning;-these, it seems to me, are faint emblems of the longing with which the rise of the Sun of Righteousness would be anticipated. St Paul has a most remarkable image to express the effects which the hope of redemption produced; he speaks of men, through it, "groaning and travailing together." But perhaps we shall arrive at the best conception of the feelings of such as lived before the manifestation of Jesus, but had some knowledge and expectation of that event, if we advert to the ecstasy of those whose faith on this subject was turned into vision. Listen to the strains in which Zacharias expresses his gratitude," Blessed be the Lord God of Israel; for he hath visited and redeemed his people, and hath raised up a horn of salvation for us in the house of his servant David; as he spake by the mouth of his holy prophets, which have been since the world began." Listen, again, to the beautiful and predictive ejaculation of Simeon, made on the first presentation of our Saviour, and while he folded the infant in his arms," Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word; for mine eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou hast prepared before the face of all people; a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel." From the study of the law and the prophets, from attention to the signs of the times, and from supernatural intimations, Simeon had concluded that the advent was to happen in his day; and, under this expectation, he had cheerfully borne the evils of protracted life. Having seen the Saviour, and the world having no longer any attraction for him, he welcomes the peaceful approach of death; but then, in the genuine, expansive spirit of the Gospel, he is not so wrapt up in his own happiness, but that he celebrates the blessed fruits with which, alike to Jew and Gentile, the coming of Jesus was to be attended. It is time that, from attending to the spiritual condition of others, we now pass to the consideration of our own. We live in the times neither of ignorance nor of expectation with respect to the propitiation to be made for sin. We, indeed, are laden with iniquity; but the language of perplexity, "Where is the lamb for an offering?" and the language of devout trust, "God will provide himself a lamb for an offering," are alike inapplicable to us. In this respect we are all "the children of light,"—and how great is that light! The Lamb on which we rely for a ransom was no arbitrary selection of man, but the provision of God. Jesus was not, like other vicarious sacrifices, an involuntary victim; but, with his own most cordial concurrence," was bruised for our iniquities." As he was the incarnate Son of God, there was in his blood a propitiatory virtue of infinite value; representing mercy and truth, righteousness and peace," in harmonious union; and embracing in efficacy men of every period, and of every clime. And finally, our faith leans on a risen Redeemer; that is, on a sacrifice the acceptance of which has been testified, by the reappearance of Him who made it from the tomb. "Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world!" "No man taketh my life from me, but I lay it down of myself; I have power to lay it down and I have power to take it again." "God sent his only begotten Son into the world, to be the propitiation for our sins. Such an High Priest became us, who is holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners, and made higher than the heavens; who needeth not daily, as the high priests of the Law, to offer up sacrifice, first for his own sins, and then for the people's; for this he did once, when he offered up himself. Him hath God raised up, having loosed the pains of death; because it was not possible that he should be holden of it." Such is the Christian expiation. In conclusion, let us advert to the instruction to be received from the consideration of times and nations which, in a religious view, have been far less favourably situated than the and country age in which our lot has been cast. Let it, then, be a correction of, and a counterpoise to, the apathy which is so apt to steal on us, with respect to advantages of which we have never known the want. From the oppressive sacrifices of the Jew and Gentile, let us learn our obligations to that "one offering which Jesus has made for sin, and by which he has for ever perfected them which are sanctified." When, on the one hand, we see the heathen inextricably bewildered in his search after an expiation for sin, let us be assured, that in similar circumstances we, too, must have walked on in darkness; let us rejoice that a happier lot has fallen to us, and that we are "children of the day;" and let us hail the period when all men shall come to the knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ. When, on the other hand, we see the devout Israelite waiting for redemption, and rejoicing that he saw it afar off, let us bless God that, on this most vital point, we have never burned with the fever of suspense; and let us be very careful indeed, lest we, to whom salvation is come, feel less delight than they who were gladdened by its dim and distant vision. Amen. EARLY PIETY. LORD, teach a little child to pray, A helpless creature I was born, But Christ can all my sins forgive, His bosom then shall be their home- For all who early seek his face Shall surely taste his love; Jesus shall guide them by his grace, To dwell with Him above. RYLAND. A TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE REV. PETER THOMSON, MINISTER OF ST MARY'S CHURCH, DUMFRIES. [Extracted from a Dumfries Newspaper.] clergyman. All scenes of mortality are appalling enough; but when death seems to discharge his arrows at a venture, and carry suddenly to the dark mansions of the grave those who were endeared to us by the most interesting associations, and whose well-remembered faces seem still to rise before us, the impression is solemn indeed. Well, then, may we conceive the deep-seated grief with which the trustees and congregation of St Mary's are mourning the loss of their faithful and affectionate pastor, whose victim to a malignant fever in the ninth month of his sun has truly gone down at noon-who has fallen a ministry, while just entering on a promising career of ministerial usefulness. From the peculiarly interesting duties of the clerical profession, and the nameless little offices of kindness which a clergyman is daily called upon to perform, bis death, if he has been a good man, is apt, in any circumstances, to be felt as a bereave ment. If he is advanced in years, even though we have been long looking forward to the eventful change, we cannot but drop a tear to the memory of the good old man who sprinkled on our brow the water of baptism, and gave us the first token of admission to the sacrament of the Supper. But the death of the young solation we calculated would, for many a long year, clergyman, whose persuasive advice and soothing conconstitute him the family friend, is apt to be felt by his congregation as an event altogether overpowering. Most sincerely, therefore, do we sympathize with the congregation of St Mary's in the loss they have recently sustained in the death of Mr Thomson; more especially, as, from all we have seen and heard of him, we had character, both as a man and a minister of the Gospel. We had, indeed, no acquaintance with him till settled in Dumfries as minister of St Mary's, and are, therefore, not entitled to speak of his earlier history from personal knowledge; but, from what his college acquaintances had informed us of his gentle and unaffected manners, piety, conscientiousness, and moral worth, diligent application to his theological studies, and the success attending his labours as assistant at Riccarton,* and missionary in Dundee, we were quite prepared to think well of him, and we are perfectly sure every member of St Mary's congregation will concur with us that he was willing to spend and be spent in his Master's service. Though we had not the pleasure of being one of his most intimate acquaintances, we soon saw enough to convince us that he was a truly estimable young man, and worthy of high esteem for his work's sake. He had about him no forward self-sufficiency, no assumed gravity, no affected self-righteous superiority. Sincerely pious, pure in morals, plain in manners, kind in heart, you saw at once what he was, and treated him as worthy of your confidence and love. He was most solicitous to bring his congregation and his parish under a good system of religious discipline; and, by the institution of Sabbath-schools and preaching-stations, was apparently in the fair way of accomplishing much good. He seemed, indeed, never weary of well-doing, but was constantly going about, day after day, discharging the ministry he had received, and taking account of his flock. In the work of visiting from house to house he seemed to excel, and so gained upon the affections of the people, that we are not sure but he was as great a favourite with them in the closet as in the pulpit. But, indeed, as an illustrious divine has said, the clergyman been led to form the most favourable estimate of his • We regret exceedingly that, through some misapprehension, an erroneous statement occurs in the Sketch of Mr Thomson's life, which forms the concluding part of Mr Crawford's Sermon, inserted some weeks ago in our pages. We are requested to state, on WE recollect few events that have of late produced authority, that Mr Thomson did not return any money which he a stronger impression of the uncertain tenure of human life, or elicited a more general and sincere feeling of regret, than the sudden death of this respected young received while at Riccarton, or for ministering there, to the family of the late minister, whose circumstances rendered such kindness altogether unnecessary.-Ep. of the S. C..H, who goes to a poor man's house goes to his heart. We bave understood, however, that, nothwithstanding his growing popularity, the deep feeling of ministerial responsibility was taking such a firm hold of Mr Thomson's mind, as to occasion great anxiety and materially to affect his bodily health. Too many devoted young men, we fear, thus fall victims in the cause over which their Master has appointed them. Mr Thomson was, in all respects, giving general satisfaction to his people; and though they were not requiring of him exertions which his physical frame was unable to undergo; it is much to be regretted that, to benefit them, his own health should have been to any extent the sacrifice. He has at last found rest in the grave. We trust that those for whom he laboured with so great fidelity will often repair to that grave, and there ponder on his kindly ministrations among them. He is dead, but his exhortations and advices will, we trust, continue to speak to them for many a long year. Of Mr Thomson's appearances in the pulpit we had also a highly favourable opinion. Neither his manner nor voice certainly were good, and with strangers were at first felt to be disagreeable; but with his regular hearers this feeling soon passed away, and the peculiar cadence in his voice, perhaps from its association with single-hearted sincerity, became to them positively pleasing. We always thought highly of his prayers, as at once simple, comprehensive, and devout. His lectures and discourses, without having about them any pretensions to original thought, were at once edifying and instructive. He seemed to be most felicitous in the choice of his subjects, and in his illustrations equally so. He was, obviously, a most respectable scholar, had studied theology as a science, was intimately acquainted with the works of several of the old divines-with quotations from whom, and the fathers, he occasionally, to the delight and gratification of his hearers, garnished his own discourses. Indeed, he was fast rising into popularity with all classes of his congregation-a most difficult attainment certainly to a mixed audience, but one for which be seemed peculiarly fitted; and of all the candidates, he was soon felt to be best fitted for the charge. Alas! his career of usefulness in the Christian vineyard has been early brought to a close. Mental anxiety, combined with physical exhaustion, had, we apprehend, predisposed him to the attack of the malignant fever that brought him to a premature grave. He has left a widowed mother and an affectionate sister to bewail his decease. May the mother be soothed with the hope that her son is not "lost, but gone before!" May the sister put her trust in the Almighty Being, who sticketh closer than a brother! May the bereaved congregation that, even in the delirium of fever, was ever uppermost in his thoughts, and the burden of his prayers, ere long be blessed by the great Head of the Church with a faithful, devoted, and worthy successor, to carry on the good work he had so auspiciously begun! CHRISTIAN TREASURY God is to be loved supremely.—If God is for ever, how ill do we calculate in preferring to his love and protection, the span of happiness which his visible creation can offer; the fashion of this world, which is so soon to pass away into silence! Yea, rather, forasmuch as the things around us, which are all one day to be dissolved, are so goodly and glorious during their stage of momentary existence; "if God so clothe the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven;" if this *On the morning of the day on which this excellent minister died, during a calm interval of the fever, when he was aware of his state, he raised himself up in his bed, and with the earnestness and solemnity of one who felt that he was on the very brink of eternity, committed himself, his relatives, and his flock to the compassionate and gracious keeping of the Good Shepherd, earth, which, ere long, must melt with fervent heat, is now so richly adorned with fruits and flowers by the lavish munificence of its Creator; if this firmament, which is one day to wither like a parched scroll, is now set thick with suns, and all nature, even in this its ruined state, is teeming with whatever can supply the wants, whatever can delight the senses of us poor exiles from paradise, what may we not anticipate from the power and mercy of the Most High, in that new heaven and new earth, whose foundations shall be laid from everlasting, and where they whom he loves, and who have lovingly served him, shall be gathered as wheat into his garner.-BISHOP Heber. NOTES ON EGYPT. BY THE REV. ALEXANDER DUFF, D.D., One of the Church of Scotland's Missionaries to India. PART IV. THE PYRAMIDS. WHO has not at times been so overcome by accounts of the "Eternal Pyramids," as to desire to be left alone to lose himself in a reverie of contemplation and wonder? We have read of travellers, who, when they | first beheld these enormous piles indenting their forms on the clear blue sky, declared that for some time they "remained motionless "-that, on recovering from the primary sensation, their "enthusiasm amounted almost to madness, and they shouted applause to the magnificent spectacle!" We were therefore prepared, and really expected to be astonished. Soon after the dawn of a glorious morn, while passing the point where the Delta commences, a few miles below Cairo, by the separation of the stream into its two main branches, we first beheld, at a considerable distance to the right, the peaks of the two great Pyramids of Ghizeh shooting up, Parnassus-like, from an apparently common body. As we approached more nearly opposite, the gap or opening between them began to widen and descend, till at last they presented themselves from base to summit as two distinct and independent fabrics. There being nothing in two sharp peaks, shining like fiery wedges in the full radiance of the rising sun, to excite unwonted surprise, we still waited in earnest expectation of the uprising of a sensation of deepest wonder. At length the naked base of the Libyan rock appeared; upon it the great Pyramids stood out fully disclosed to view-and yet no emotion whatever of the anticipated astonishment! On the contrary, we felt an almost resistless propensity to give way to that opposite emotion of derision and contempt which is ever apt to spring up, when it is discovered or imagined that one has been made the unconscious dupe of trick and delusive artifice. We neither experienced, nor could experience any feeling or sentiment of wonder whatsoever. Disappointed at our own disappointment, we could only be astonished to think what others, standing where we were, and placed as strangers in precisely similar circumstances, could possibly have found to be astonished at. What could be the cause of so unexpected a result? It seemed to be this. From the vast breadth of the base, compared with the altitude of the rapidly tapering summit, and from the entire absence of adjacent objects of known dimensions, whereby to measure them, the elevation appeared to the eye, at the distance of a few miles, exceedingly diminutive. Many glass-works in Great Britain, at about the same distance, have |