setting
In the endless need of repair.

But my thoughts were about "the building,"
The work some day to be tried;
And that only the gold and the silver,
And the precious stones should abide;

And, remembering my own poor efforts,
The wretched work I had done,
And, even when trying most truly,
The meagre success I had won;

"It is nothing but wood, hay, and stubble,"
I said; "it will all be burned—
This useless fruit of the talents
One day to be returned;

"And I have so longed to serve Him,
And sometimes I know I have tried;
But I'm sure, when He sees such a building,
He will never let it abide."

Just then, as I turned the garment
That no rent should be left behind,
My eye caught an odd little bungle
Of mending and patchwork combined.

My heart grew suddenly tender,
And something blinded my eyes,
With one of those sweet intuitions
That sometimes makes us so wise.

Dear child, she wanted to help me;
I knew 'twas the best she could do;
But oh, what a botch she had made it—
The grey mis-matching the blue!

And yet—can you understand it?
With a tender smile and a tear,
And a half-compassionate yearning,
I felt her grown more dear.

Then a sweet voice broke the silence,
And the dear Lord said to me—
"Art thou tenderer for the little child
Than I am tender for thee."

Then straightway I knew His meaning,
So full of compassion and love;
And my faith came back to its Refuge,
Like the glad returning dove.

For I thought when the Master Builder
Comes down His temple to view,
To see what rents must be mended,
And what must be builded anew;

Perhaps, as He looks o'er the building,
He will bring my work to the light,
And, seeing the marring and bungling,
And how far it all is from right,

He will feel as I felt for my darling,
And will say as I said for her—
"Dear child, she wanted to help me,
And love for me was the spur;

"And, for the real love that was in it,
The work shall seem perfect as mine;
And because it was willing service,
I will crown it with plaudit divine."

And there, in the deepening twilight,
I seemed to be clasping a Hand,
And to feel a great love constraining me,
Stronger than any command.

Then I knew, by the thrill of sweetness,
'Twas the hand of the Blessed One,
Which would tenderly guide and hold me,
Till all the labour is done.

So my thoughts are never more gloomy,
My faith no longer is dim:
But my heart is strong and restful,
And mine eyes are unto Him.

THE PRESENTATION OF THE NAZARITE.

Let us now look into the law of the Nazarite when the days of his separation were fulfilled. The first thing that strikes our notice is, "He shall be brought," not, he shall come. Why is this? and why is it that the law is so explicit as to every detail of ritual and service, scarcely leaving any room for voluntary action?—we say scarcely, because in the twenty-first verse there is one little clause, "Beside that that his hand shall get," which does leave room for additional tokens of gratitude and love.

The answer seems to be, that the voluntary part of Nazarite service lay first and chiefly in the surrender to become a Nazarite. In that position he was not his own, as we have pointed out, and the Master whom he served naturally and consistently directed the service.

Again, does not, "He shall be brought" imply that, Nazarite as he was, he still needed priestly ministration to present himself, and his finished service, before the Lord? And our High Priest, who is now able to keep us from falling to the end of our surrendered service, waits to present us with exceeding joy, "faultless before the presence of His glory"—"holy and unblameable and unreproveable in His sight."

THE LAW OF THE OFFERINGS.

When we come to the offerings enumerated in v. 14, we notice that they are mentioned in the almost invariable order of enumeration—first the burnt-offering, then the sin-offering, and lastly the peace offering; but when in v. 16 we come to the offering up of the sacrifices, we notice that as always the sin-offering is the first to be offered.

It is somewhat remarkable that the actual order of offering, and the order of enumeration should not correspond; and it is likewise noteworthy that the sacrifice which was always offered first, when offered at all, was comparatively insignificant in point of value, and much less frequently called for in the services of the Levitical ritual. For instance, in Numbers xxviii, xxix, the daily offering was a burnt-offering of a he-lamb morning and evening, with the corresponding accompaniments of fine flour mingled with oil, and a drink-offering of wine. On the Sabbath Day an additional burnt-offering of two lambs with their meat-offering and drink-offering was required. At the time of the new moon, the additional offering was of two bullocks, one ram, and seven lambs, with their meat and drink-offerings, for a burnt-offering, while one he-goat sufficed for a sin-offering. The same offerings were offered at the Feasts of Passover and Pentecost. On several other occasions the offerings were nearly of the same proportions; while during the Feast of Tabernacles the offerings commenced with thirteen bullocks, two rams, and fourteen lambs for a burnt-offering to one he-goat for a sin-offering.

The same disproportion of number and value may be noticed on many occasions between the sin-offering and the peace offering. A striking example of this was the sacrifice of peace-offerings made by Solomon on the dedication of the temple to the number of 22,000 oxen, and 120,000 sheep.

We cannot but see that teaching of the most important character is to be gathered from these facts; and is it not clear that while the need of forgiveness and cleansing is never to be lost sight of, it is not intended that a sense of the presence and defilement of sin should be the prominent feature of the service of