Thou art gone to the grave! we no longer behold thee,
Nor tread the rough paths of the world by thy side;
But the wide arms of mercy are spread to enfold thee,
And sinners may hope, for the Sinless hath died.

"Thou art gone to the grave! and, its mansion forsaking, What though thy weak spirit in fear lingered long; The sunshine of Paradise beamed on thy waking,

And the sound which thou heardst was the seraphim's song.

"Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee,
For God was thy ransom, thy guardian, and guide;
He gave thee, he took thee, and he will restore thee,
And death has no sting, for the Saviour hath died."

XVI.-THE FIELD OF BOAZ; OR, CONSECRATED AFFECTION.

"People of the living God,

I have sought the world around,
Paths of sin and sorrow trod,

Peace and comfort nowhere found.

"Now to you my spirit turns

Turns, a fugitive unblessed;

Brethren, where your altar burns,
Oh! receive me into rest."

NEAR Bethlehem is the field of Boaz. He was a mighty man of wealth, and was held in great honor among his people. In the time of harvest he came from his home in Bethlehem to look on his reapers in the field. He met them with the ancient saluta

tion, "The Lord be with you." To which the men replied, "The Lord bless you." Gleaning among the reapers was a maiden of foreign manners and foreign birth, unknown to Boaz. "Whose damsel is this?"

he said. And the servant that was set over the reapers answered and said, "It is the Moabitish damsel that came back with Naomi out of the country of Moab and she said, I pray you, let me glean and gather after the reapers among the sheaves: so she came, and hath continued even from the morning until now that she tarried a little in the house." This damsel was Ruth, a daughter of Moab. Her life had been an eventful one. Its fragrance pre

ceded her on her way to Bethlehem, the new home she had chosen among a strange people.

Into the land of Moab came a family from Bethlehem for bread. Famine, that scourge of the land, drove them from the fields they loved. Two daughters of Moab, Ruth and Orpah, formed the tenderest of ties with the Hebrew children, and one of them married Mahlon, and the other Chilion, the sons of Naomi. These formed her family, in which the true God was worshiped. Affliction came on that house. The father and two sons died. Rich in the love of her husband and in the affection of her sons, with a weary step Naomi came back to her people. "All the city was moved at her approach, and came out to meet her" on that bitter day. Touched by the great public sympathy, and stricken to earth by her great woe, she cried out, "Call me not Naomi, call me Mara; for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me."

On the burial of her husband and sons, Naomi's heart yearned for her home and kindred in Bethle hem. The three stricken widows met under one tent. Moab had now no charms for Naomi. She had not heart to take from kindred and altar the young women that loved her for the sake of the dead. Ever dear, and now doubly dear in their mutual bereavement, Naomi told Ruth and Orpah her resolution to seek her own people, and urged them to return to their homes. "Go, return each to her mother's house; the Lord deal kindly with you, as ye have dealt with the dead, and with me. The Lord grant you that ye may find rest, each of you in the

house of her husband. Then she kissed them; and they lifted up their voices and wept." Orpah went back with reluctance, and in tears. But Ruth refused all entreaty. Her resolution was firm. Her position taken. With unalterable affection and impassioned eloquence, she cried out: "Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee. For whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God; where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried." Beautiful exhibition of affection and unblenching faith, sanctioned by religious trial! A young girl leaves house and kindred, the religion of her youth, and the sepulchers of her people, going out on a long journey to a strange land and a new religion. It was not simply love for the dead. Orpah had this, and went back. It was not simply a love for the living. The humble piety of Naomi won on Ruth. It had won her to the altar of the Hebrews. "Thy God shall be my God." In her heart the true faith was ardent, constant, and a living principle. By it all sacrifice was easy. Cheerfully she could tread the rugged path, hold up the weary step of Naomi, and glean and toil for her on the way. Along the trodden way matron and maiden trod, footsore and weary, amid many a tender glance from the passer-by, through many a hospitable town, with many a "God bless you 'God bless you" from hearts touched by sympathy. At length the gates of Bethlehem were seen. Their coming and their story ran on before them. The great men of the city bid them welcome. As Ruth went out for food on their arrival, for they

were poor as well as hungry, "her hap was to light on part of the field belonging to Boaz." A right royal welcome the maiden received from the lord of the land. "Hearest thou not, my daughter? Go not to glean in another field, neither go from hence, but abide here fast by my maidens; let thine eyes be on the field that they do reap, and go thou after them. Have I not charged the young men that they shall not touch thee? And when thou art athirst, go unto the vessels, and drink of that which the young men have drawn." Well might Ruth fall on "her face, and bow herself to the ground," and say: "Why have I found grace in thine eyes, that thou shouldst take knowledge of me, seeing I am a stranger." Well did Boaz answer her: "It hath fully been showed me all that thou hast done unto thy mother-in-law since the death of thy husband; and how thou hast left thy father and thy mother, and the land of thy nativity, and art come unto a people which thou knewest not heretofore. The Lord recompense thy work, and a full reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings thou art come to trust."

In the humble walks of life, in the quiet home in Moab, trusting, true, confiding, sustaining, comforting, and guiding the weak and afflicted, gleaning in the hot sun for food for her mother-in-law, and doing all in the fear of God, asking no reward, save that found in love of the mother of her husband, whose memory cheered her on-how wide her fame, how fragrant! In that weary journey, she was doing work that should tell till time shall be no longer. Deeply she laid the corner-stone of her grandson's fame,