Word and of prayer. Two are better than one. | is preached, the Sabbath sanctified, the Word of The warmth of social affection may give fervency God held in reverence, the ordinances of religion and life to devotions that otherwise might become observed; and the guilt you contract will be more languid,—and where two or three meet together, than can be computed, if you neglect to exhibit the Saviour has promised that he will be in the midst. the influence of those advantages in your lives It will be of unspeakable importance that the and conversation, and if you do not strive to perduties of family religion be duly observed by you; petuate, so far as your example and influence let your household be duly assembled for the extend, these inestimable privileges in your morning and the evening sacrifice,-let no earthly adopted country. pursuit interfere with the duty you owe to your heavenly Father. However unfavourable may be your circumstances, and however urgent your worldly avocations, take care to reserve a portion of your time for God. When you can meet around the social board, let all you partake of be sanctified by the Word of God and by prayer; and in the dark forest, or in the lonely heath, when the members of the family, widely scattered throughout the day in the discharge of their necessary duties, meet together for the night, for safety and repose, let the rude cabin be made glad by the voice of prayer and praise. The circumstances in which you go forth from among us are widely different. Your community forms indeed a world, combining in itself every diversity. The infant of days and the man of grey hairs are among you, and the rich and the poor meet together. There are some of you in all the buoyancy of youth, your breasts animated with hope, panting with desire,-full of confidence in the success of schemes that may redound to your worldly advantage and renown. And it is impossible not to feel an interest in the energy that awakens to manly enterprise. But while we sympathize in the generous purposes that fill your bosoms, while we heartily wish for abundant success to the efforts of honest industry, and while our earnest prayer is that you may return in pride and in honour to the district from which you now go forth, or become the founders of an honoured race in the land whither you go, we still would have you to remember that the time is short, that all that is earthly is uncertain. Let your moderation then be known unto all men, and let your main ambition be for the treasures in heaven. There are others who go forth in the bitterness of disappointment,-cast out by your native land, in which you would gladly have continued, and able to look forward in the land to which you are going, for nothing better than a quiet grave. But, brethren, we would not have you to mourn as those that have no hope. You know not what good things the Lord may have for you yet in store; and if you put your trust in God. He will be with you, and will keep you in the way that you go, and will give you bread to eat and raiment to put on, and will bless you in your latter end. Let us earnestly urge it upon you all, that whatever may be the diversities of your condition, you all carry along with you, whithersoever you go, the responsibility of having breathed the air of Scotland, and carrying with you the name of Scotchmen. You will be looked upon as coming from a land where, amidst many sins, the Gospel Your destination in the world may be widely different. But wherever you are and wherever you may go,-whether you are tossed upon the stormy deep, or rest in the quiet haven,-whether your lot is cast in the west or in the east,— whether on the bleak coasts of Cape Breton, amidst the forests of Canada, or in the far distant regions of Australia,-whether in the wild upland, or in the rich savannah,-whether in the lonely wilderness, among the scattered villages, or in the crowded city,-you cannot go where God is not. The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof, and he made the sea also. Is the Lord a God at hand, and not a God afar off? The blood that was shed on Calvary is of efficacy, from the rising of the sun to where he goeth down, and stretches from pole to pole. Though you go forth to a distant, it is not to a strange country. The God of your fathers will go before you; and wherever you may be, "if you seek him you will find him, when you search for him with all your heart." Though far removed from your earthly friends, you will find in him a friend that sticketh closer than a brother. If you place your hope in him, you will never be put to shame. The country to which he conducts you will be gladdened by his presence, and the Lord's song may now be sung in every land. And now, brethren, it only remains to bid you heartily farewell. May the God of our fathers be your God and guide,may he accompany you, and support you, and direct you, and cheer you, in every step of your pilgrimage,-may he preserve you unharmed amid the perils by waters, and the perils in a strange country,-may goodness and mercy follow you all the days of your life, and may everlasting blessings crown your heads. The prayers of the faithful, in the beloved country you leave behind you, will ascend continually, a memorial before God in your behalf; and in the land to which you go, let us beseech you to pray for the peace of your father-land. May the God of that land be the God of the land that becomes yours,-may His blessing come down, and may it rest upon you and upon your children, and upon your children's children. NARRATIVE OF THE CONVERSION OF THE following interesting narrative we have received Henry L, a young man of about twenty-five years of age, by trade a cabinet-maker, was admitted into the MG. Hospital on 22d July 1836, in a miserable state both of mind and body, the latter being much emaciated with pain and disease, and the former apparently full of doubts, and awful enmity to his God. Many efforts for his religious welfare were made by different clergymen and gentlemen who, from compassion to the precious souls of poor sinners, frequently visited this institution. The matron, also, tenderly alive both to the spiritual and temporal wants of her charge, used for many weeks continual endeavours, but without any apparent effect, for, alas! Unitarian principles had been shedding their baneful influence on his heart, already too willing, from the indulgence of sensual gratifications, to adopt such a soothing scheme of religion as would not hold forth undying torments to the obstinate sinner. Henry, naturally of a complying disposition, was easily led astray, and being endowed with a fine voice, and having a taste for music, he was tempted, as he confessed to a Christian friend, who often read and prayed with him in his last illness, to enter into much wickedness and dissipation. Feeling the stings of remorse, and having some slight acquaintance with the truths of the Bible, he could not help seeing his danger of eternal misery, and, in common with many other wicked men, striving to find a refuge in unbelief, he wished much to prove to his own soul that many parts of Holy Writ were untrue; in these dreadful doubts he was strengthened from a quarter whither he should have naturally looked for their refutation, viz., from an elder brother, who, pretending himself to disbelieve, sought also to confirm his weaker-minded relation in his doubts. Henry afterwards acknowledged that all his objections to the divinity of our Saviour, had been fully answered by the curate of the Episcopal Church, and that he had even felt impressed for a few hours, although, alas, this feeling appeared transitory and light as the morning dew. Doubtless, however, according to the merciful promise, the bread cast upon the waters was found after many days. pray with another patient, he providentially made a mistake, and came to the bed of poor Henry, who did not appear at all pleased at the recognition, and seemed most unwilling to be troubled; he was evidently in much pain, and fancied himself most hardly dealt by, saying, that "It was easy for one in health and strengta to preach resignation, and say it proceeded from the chastening hand of a Father." By degrees, however, in spite of his disinclination to listen, he appeared somewhat impressed by the offers of free mercy, through Christ, to the repentant sinner, and he seemed touched especially with that wonderful promise from Isaiah i. 10, "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." He was evidently aware of his dreadfully sinful and, consequently, dangerous state, but not willing to submit to the divine decrees, and his state at that time held out little encouragement. However, happy is it for us that "God seeth not as we see." The arrow of conviction was at work in his soul, and he, although most unwillingly and ungraciously listening, and striving to steel his heart in unbelief, found that he could no longer resist. He, however, said very little, but when left to his own reflections, he could not help feeling sorry on account of the unthankful and ungracious manner in which he had rejected the instruction and exhortation offered him. After this visit he was heard by the nurse and patients to pray repeatedly, pleading with God, for Christ's sake, to pardon his sins. On the second morning following this period, the matron, on visiting the ward, asked Henry, according to her usual custom, how his health was, and was agreeably surprised with the answer, that "he was no better in body, but far happier in mind," and by his exclaiming, "What a good night I have had, God blessed me in a wonderful manner, I cannot describe it, but a wonderful change seems to have taken place." The matron then said, she hoped that he was enabled to believe and embrace the Saviour; he answered, Yes, I do," upon which, after dropping a few words of exhortation, on the necessity of watchfulness and perseverance, and administering some consolatory advice, she left him. Shortly after this, the writer was asked by the Rev. Mr A if he had seen Henry L lately, for on his last visit to the hospital, he had been most agreeably surprised at the alteration which had taken place, and at his wish to be read to and prayed with. Accord 66 Weeks and months passed away, and found poor Henry somewhat improved in health, but still as much or more at enmity with his Maker; he appeared to have determined to run upon the bosses of God's shield," and madly to rush, with blinded eyes, over the dreadful precipice before him. About the middle of October, the doctors thinking that change of air would perhaps afford him relief, he was discharged in a convalescent state; and the writer happening to come into his ward, as he was preparing to quit the hospital, had some serious conver-ingly, the writer immediately went to him, and the sation with him, and gave him some tracts, for which, for the first time, he showed some degree of thankfulness, and expressed a wish that he might receive benefit from what had been said to him. The writer, also, afterwards met him several times in the street, and he appeared pleased at being recognised, but it became afterwards evident that his mind increased in enmity against religion as his body gained strength; and the account of the matron and nurses of the hospital of his state when re-admitted into the institution on the 7th December, evinced his dreadful alienation from God, and to all human appearance, he was forsaken and an outcast indeed! His cries and oaths were harrowing, and his ill-nature was vented on all, in so much, that the nurse attending on him, although of a kind temper, said she could not endure it, and had she not been soon about to leave the hospital, would have nothing to do with him. He could not bear to hear the Gospel read, or to be troubled with tracts or prayers, and particularly requested that the matron would send no clergymen or others to him any more, and often would he pretend to sleep to avoid hearing, what were to him, unwelcome truths. After Henry's return, the writer was not for some time aware of the circumstance, but having been requested one day, by the visiting clergyman, to read and change of manner and feeling was indeed most evident; he appeared to have something on his mind, and upon being questioned, he expressed his regret at having placed his infant daughter of two years old, whose mother he had lost in the last cholera season, in a Roman Catholic family, where, although she was brought up with the tenderest care, she would be educated in the Romish faith, which, now, he could not bear to think on, although formerly he had not troubled his head on the subject. He appeared much comforted upon being told, that the writer would write to a Christian friend at Quebec to endeavour to obtain the child from the family, and to place her in the Protestant Orphan Asylum. The great work now evidently was making rapid progress. He had been but very partially instructed in divine truth; but now all his energies being turned to the consideration of that which he had hitherto despised, he, through Divine Grace, profited much. The writer daily visited him; and he appeared ever most anxious for instruction, and was never tired of hearing the New Testament read, and commented on. He felt much concerned, if any unforeseen event prevented these visits, and would anxiously listen for the voce, or footstep of his “ best friend," as he called the writer. The matron, fearing that he might be placing too much of bringing you, you mean, Henry." "Yes, that is what I mean. How often do I lament the way in which I used to avoid his instructions! How kind is it for him to come and sit to read to me, pray with me, and treat me like a brother! How kind to come so near to such a poor wretched sinner, and to bear with the offensive smell from my sores!" Another day he said, "My brother in Christ has been with me. Oh! I have had such comfort!" Indeed, he was never tired of expressing to the matron, his feelings of gratitude to the writer, the clergymen, and others, who visited him. He was very eager that all who read to him should also pray. He one day said to the writer, "Mr visited me, and spoke to me to-day, but he did not pray. Do you not think that every minister should pray with the sick?" He was wonderfully anxious for the souls of others, almost immediately after he came to the truth; and he appeared to feel for their pains, and shed tears on account of their sufferings, even when he was himself enduring great pain. A poor German had been placed in the next bed to him, and he could not be easy when he found that he had some concern for his soul, until a clergyman had been sent for; and he was very earnest that the writer should instruct him. How wonderful are the workings of the Holy Spirit! and how strongly was His teaching here shown forth! That which poor Henry so lately despised, he now prized as the greatest blessing. At different times the matron proposed reading tracts to him; but he would say, "There is no book like the Word of God; I love it best." And at another time, "I would rather hear the Scriptures; they give me most comfort." Never did he appear tired of them, and would request the nurse, or any of the patients, to read to him, when they had time. The matron one day said to him, "Henry, do you never feel tired hearing so much reading?" "Oh, no!" (shaking his head,) "I never feel tired hearing the Word of God. I hear the same chapter sometimes read by you, the captain, and the nurse; but I ever think it seems new, and better each time." About a month after his conversion, our conversations often turned on the Lord's Supper; and his desires for receiving that blessed ordinance seemed daily to increase. He evidently was eager to fulfil his Saviour's dying command. Those parts of the Scriptures which treat more immediately on the subject, were read and explained to him, and he appeared to receive benefit. A day or two previous to his being permitted thus to make an open profession of his Saviour's name, and to receive this blessed seal of the covenant, he appeared to the matron to have something more than usual on his mind; and in answer to her inquiries, he said he wished to converse with her a little; and on her sitting down for that purpose, he appeared rather unwilling to speak. She inquired, if he were prepared to receive the sacrament? He answered, "Yes, I hope I am; but I would wish to feel more love to my brother than I do; for if you knew how I have been treated by him, you would not wonder,-he was the cause of my embracing Unitarian principles." She asked, "Henry, if you had it in your power, would you do your brother an injury?" He answered, "Oh no! I could not; and it would add to my happiness to know that my brother had also embraced the Saviour." On being asked if he never spoke to his brother upon religion, when he came to visit him, he said, "No; he was afraid, because his brother had a stronger mind, had a better education, and knew more of the Scrip nance, tures; which he read more for the purpose of refuting than profiting by." A part of a tract was then read to him, in which was beautifully described the state of mind to be wished for, previous to receiving the Lord's Supper; and also part of the 11th chapter of First Corinthians, which appeared to give rise to profitable reflections, and he was left in a sweet state of mind. The next day the second, third, fourth, and fifth chapters of the First Epistle of John were read to him; to which, after attentively listening, he said, "Now I feel nothing but love to my brother; and I beg he may be sent for, that he may be present." The matron hinted here at the peculiar state of mind of his brother; and he said, "Oh! it may raise convictions in his mind seeing me openly acknowledge the Saviour; for do I not do so in partaking of the Lord's Supper?" He was exhorted to be much in prayer and heart examination during the day and night previous to receiving, and to entreat that, if it were the Lord's will, he might have some alleviation of pain, lest the pains of the body should deaden his devotions; and he was, in this respect, answered; for before and during this ordiindeed for some time afterwards, he was, comparatively speaking, free from pain. Solemn and affecting, indeed, was that blessed rite. The minister's address, previous to the service, seemed to make much impression on that little circle of Christians and sufferers, met together to celebrate their Redeemer's death; and let us confidently trust, that the Holy Spirit was, indeed, shedding abroad, in the hearts of those present, his healing power, and binding up and pouring precious balm into the wounds which sin had made. There were few dry eyes among those present; and let us hope, that the affectionate address of the minister to the brother, who was present, (although of course not a partaker,) might be vouchsafed a blessing, and that the seed might, through Divine Grace, then be sown in his heart, although he exhibited little feeling. This divine ordinance was, indeed, attended with a blessing on poor Henry, and appeared to deepen the divine work in his soul. For some days after his mind was kept in a sweet happy frame; and he appeared glad that his brother had been present at the ordinance, as he seemed to think that the impressive address of the minister, and the whole of the solemn scene, must, through the divine blessing, have a happy effect. The change which grace had so freely worked in poor Henry's heart, was now more than ever evident. He had been formerly unthankful and fretful, impatiently receiving even acts of kindness; but now he was meek, forbearing, patient, and grateful for the least attention. His sufferings, though nowise abated, were borne with Christian fortitude, and with a willingness to endure that which it might please the Lord to put upon him. Often, when hearing in the Scriptures of the sufferings of Christ, he would exclaim, " Oh what a wretch have I been to deny my Saviour! Oh for a filthy, dirty worm like me to deny my Saviour! and after all, He forgives me. Oh what condescension, what love! Often he would appear lost in reflection on the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge. “It was fathomless," he would say. His sense of unworthiness and vileness was indeed great. His evidences of his having received pardon, and applied to his own comfort the blessings of the atonement, were seldom clouded, but at times the extreme violence of his pains appeared to have a somewhat deadening effect. His usual morning answer to the matron's kind inquiries was, "I have spent the night comfortably, although I have slept little. When all slumber and silence reigns around, I am able to pray and meditate upon the love of God to my soul." When sometimes, towards the termination of his illness, he was asked if he still felt resigned to the Lord's will, he answered, "Yes, perfectly;" and 66 being questioned if he should like to recover, he said, "Yes, if I thought I could hold fast what I now enjoy;" and being told that God was able to keep his soul in health as well as sickness, he answered, “You do not know what a weak-minded man I am, but God's will be done!" As the closing scene drew near, his mind at times appeared to wander, which cannot be wondered at, as he was wasted to a skeleton; his bones protruded through his flesh, and his sores gave him dreadful torment; indeed, the surgeon of the hospital said his pains must be terrible. When, however, read to, and prayed with, he generally became almost immediately soothed, and often said, "Oh this has been sweet comfort to me!" His excruciating pains sometimes, however, overpowered him; and when, in consequence of the necessity of smoothing his bed, or turning him, his sufferings were more than usually intense, he could not help uttering piercing cries; he showed then the tenderness of his renewed heart, by anxiously inquiring if such were sinful, for I say no bad words now, I do nothing but scream;" and if he had occasion to address the nurse or patients, he would use the kindest words, such as, " dear John,' "" dear nurse." The evening previous to his death, he had his mind much exercised about the welfare of his little girl, to be left an orphan in a land of strangers, and, he was fearful, amongst Roman Catholics, at two hundred miles' distance from him. The writer, however, having received the necessary instructions from Quebec, was able to bring lawyers to the hospital, and to receive the necessary authority from poor Henry to become guardian of this poor child; that is to say, he had the power of handing her over as an apprentice to the curate of the Protestant Church at Quebec, in order to have her placed in the orphan asylum; and it may be as well to state that, after some months' delay, the French woman who had charge of the child, and who was really attached to her, consented to give her up, on condition of receiving fifteen pounds for board, &c.; and this was paid. He was perfectly sensible, but so weak as to render the operation of signing his name a very difficult and harassing task. It would appear a signal interposition of Providence in the child's favour, that the father who, about a month previous to his decease, had not been expected, from appearances, to live many hours, had been favoured with a temporary revival of strength, which enabled the writer to accomplish the wishes of poor Henry as to his child, for he was spared but very few hours after thus disposing of his little girl. He felt very grateful that he had been spared long enough thus to care for her immortal interests. The matron read to him at night, as usual, and inquired if he felt his mind comfortable; he answered, "Oh yes, much happier than in the morning." He was quite composed, and as usual, seemed prepared to pass a night of meditation. She did not expect that he could long survive, nor did he, for he bid her a most affectionate good night. About four in the morning she was called to his bed-side, and found him apparently near his end; and seemingly restless, both in body and mind; he was evidently under strong temptation,-wading through deep waters, which he, upon being questioned, acknowledged. Being then exhorted to look to God in prayer, and to plead with him for Christ's sake, that He would clear away every cloud of unbelief, he was enabled to do so with a child-like simplicity for a long time. The matron gave him all the encouragement she could, representing to him that the enemy was endeavouring to deprive him of that which he had for some time enjoyed, and that it was not only his privilege to believe, but to rejoice. She left him engaged in prayer, which, she learnt from the nurses, he continued in whilst speech was left him, and from the tenor of his prayer he appeared happy. At about nine o'clock, when she again drew near his bed, he was unable to speak. She inquired if he now felt his mind happy. He slightly bowed his head in assent; and when asked if he felt Jesus precious to his soul, he assented in the same manner. About ten minutes afterwards, his breath became soft and easy as that of a sleeping child, and shortly after he breathed out his soul to his Lord, a gentle and pleasing smile illuminating his countenance. Thus died, on 1st March 1836, after a lingering illness of eleven months, Henry L————, a signal monument of divine mercy and forgiving love. Oh! if any poor sinner, fallen into like misery through the deceitfulness of sin, and the temptations of the enemy of souls, cast his eye over this narrative of facts, let him at once stop, and consider whither he is hurrying, and let him not for an instant deceive himself by the delusive hope that he ever will be able, by stifling convictions, to escape the dreadful punishment in reserve for sin and unbelief. Rather let him "taste and find that the Lord is gracious." Let him come to the living fountain of waters,-let him come in deep sorrow and humiliation of soul to cast himself at the foot of his Saviour's cross, and find pardon and peace for ever! "THY WORD IS A LAMP UNTO MY FEET, AND I hear thy voice behind me say,- In the dark night. In the dark night. When Holy Stephen dauntless stood Before the Jews who sought his blood, With angel face he looked on high, And wondering, through the parted sky, Saw Jesus risen from his throne To claim the martyr as his own. Angelic peace that sight bestowed, With holy joy his bosom glowed, And while the murderous stones they hurled, His heaven-wrapt soul sought yonder world Of rest. "My spirit, Saviour, keep," He cried, he kneeled, he fell asleep; Such be thy holy Word to me Although no more the murdering hand In the dark night. A WORD SPOKEN IN SEASON. WITHIN the last two years, the Rev. Mr Richmond, of Reading, was travelling on one of the Bath coaches. He entered into conversation with one of his fellow-tra vellers upon the state of his immortal soul, and finally obtained a solemn promise from him, that he would read a New Testament which he gave him. The person who (as he expresses it) was led by the kind and affectionate manner of Mr Richmond to make this promise, was, at the time, a most unpromising subject for the reception of God's truth; brought up from childhood on the turf, associated with characters who knew nothing of the name of God, save in taking it in vain, dissipated and extravagant in the extreme. He had, however, been a man of good conduct in his business, and lived for several years as stud groom to a noble Marquis when he filled a high diplomatic situation at the Court of Vienna. At this time he filled a similar situation with a foreign nobleman at a considerable salary, and was much liked by his employer. For many months he did not fulfil his promise, which, however, still haunted him, and would give him no rest. Among the grooms and jockeys under his inspection was an English lad, to whom he gave directions to ride a race on the Sabbath-day, that being the day on which such exhibitions take place in a country calling itself Christian. The boy refused, and said no consideration should induce him thus to desecrate the Lord's day. The arrow of conviction came home to his heart; he remembered his neglected promise, had recourse to the Scriptures, and after much conflict, was enabled to go to his employer, and, much to his regret and surprise, resign his lucrative employment, as inconsistent with a Christian profession, and thus took up his cross and followed Christ. I must mention, that previous to his taking the decisive step, he had become so changed a character, as to excite the surprise of those under his direction, and of all who knew him. His mind was still much harassed and perplexed, not seeing clearly the way of the Lord, who brought him to Brussels, and placed him in the same street with a Christian lady, who instructed him more perfectly, and with a pious gentleman, who lent him books; and the result is, that he is now rejoicing in that liberty wherewith Christ makes his people free, and daily praising the free grace of that God who found him out, and drew him from the burning. The living change wrought in him was so apparent, that it excited the attention of his former boon companions; and the result is, that two of them have been brought under the bonds of the Gospel. His wife, also, there is every reason to believe, is a partaker of the same grace, and pressing forward to the mark of her high calling. Such are some of the consequences flowing from the gift of a single copy of the Word of God. As an encouragement to parents I may state, that this individual, and one of those already mentioned, had pious parents, who early instructed them in the Scriptures. The seed which so long lay dead and forgotten, has now sprung up to the praise and glory of God. Let none, therefore, be discouraged; the promise is sure. son. NOMOTHESIA, OR THE GIVING OF THE LAW, PART II. BY THE REV. JAMES ESDAILE, D.D., Minister of the East Church, Perth. IT has been supposed that the regulations given to the Israelites by Moses were, for the most part, in studied opposition to the practices of the surrounding nations. This is only to a certain extent true; it holds in regard to the idolatrous rites and practices of the heathen people; in every other respect there is a great similarity of manners and customs among all the nations descended from Abraham, that is, the Edomites, the Ishmaelites, the Israelites, and we may add, the Moabites and Ammonites, the descendants of Lot, Abraham's brother's All these people being of cognate origin, and, moreover, being placed in similar circumstances, may naturally be expected to exhibit great similarity of manners and institutions. The climate, the soil, the productions of the earth being the same, the habits, occupations, customs, and political regulations will, in most cases, bear a striking resemblance; and if to these predisposing circumstances we add affinity and intercourse, as in the case of the people mentioned above, we may expect great similarity of manners, even where there is the greatest opposition of interests; indeed, they are the more apt to quarrel when they have the same wants, and when there is but a scanty supply to answer the demands of each. But, beyond this general coincidence, there is great similarity between the Jews and the conterminous nations in matters of greater importance, viz., their external religious observances. We need not be surprised at this, when we reflect, that revolt from God consisted chiefly in transferring the service due to the Most High to the idols of the heathen. Generally speaking, the form and rites were little altered; and the sacrifices offered on the heathen altars were, for the most part, of the same nature, and presented generally in the same form, as the offerings of the true God, as prescribed by the law of Moses. Thus, when Balaam was called by Balak, king of Moab, to curse Israel, he commenced operations, by offering seven bullocks and seven rams. Here, we have the same animals, and the same number, offered by a Gentile high priest, which formed an acceptable sacrifice to the true God, when offered in obedience to his appointment, and in conformity to the rules which he had prescribed. Thus we read in Scripture, that "when God helped the Levites that bare the ark of the covenant of the Lord, they offered seven bullocks and seven rams." 1 Chron. xv. 26. In the case of Job, also, who undoubtedly lived before the sacrificial regulations were prescribed by Moses; for he lived at a time when the head of a family stood in the twofold capacity of priest and patriarch; and he exercised the sacerdotal function, in offering burnt-offerings for his children daily. Job i. 5. We find him, also, author |