RIZPAH

youth, to earn a shilling or even sixpence per week, than to do nothing.

Idleness is a positive curse, and always bears a bitter harvest; and if the poorer class of blind can be taught to believe this, and to put their belief into practice, the gain to themselves will be a great one.

"The Committee will have done a great and lasting good if only' they succeed in teaching a large number of blind persons, for the most part ignorant and indigent, habits of patience, care, and industry to prefer work to idleness; to be anxious to do what they can, be it ever so little, to avoid becoming a burden

to their friends; to be cleanly and well-behaved, faithful and honest; to read their Bibles with some understanding of their duty to God and to man. And this much the Committee can most fully claim to be doing.

"The harvest may not be so abundant as they could wish, but it is a harvest of the right kind, and, by God's blessing, well worth the reaping."

informed that this visitation was sent from God as a punishment on account of the wrong done to the Gibeonites. The Gibeonites

were brought before the king; they were asked what atonement they would accept for their former wrongs, and they replied that they would accept neither gold nor silver, nor did they wish any one to be put, to death except the children of the guilty person, but they demanded that seven persons of the house of Saul should be given to them, that they might hang them upon as many trees, on an elevated spot near what was once Saul's palace at Gibeah. Accordingly seven persons were surrendered to their vengeance, and among them the three children of Rizpah, the heroine of the text.

Those seven persons were first hanged, and then, though the Jewish law commanded that a person who was hanged should be buried at the going down of the sun, this was a case beyond and out of the law, and therefore the bodies remained upon the trees month after month, just as the criminals in the much vaunted good old times among ourselves were suspended in chains, and left to rot in the face of the sun. The seven corpses were thus uplifted as a dreadful memorial of the justice of God, and the vengeance of Gibeon for the broken covenant.

This woman Rizpah, though a word is used in connection with her which is full of shame, for she was but Saul's "concubine," was yet a woman of noble spirit, for when she found her three sons thus put to death, she took sackcloth, making a little tent of it on the brow of the hill, just underneath the seven gallows-trees, and there she watched all through the burning summer, and the fierce autumn heats, till the Lord's mercy sent the rain to cool the sun-burnt earth. The carrion birds came to feed upon the corpses, but she chased them away with her wild shrieks and cries; and when the jackals and the bears came by night, she, as if she were some fabled destroyer of dragons, and not a poor timid woman. drove them all away.

Neither by night nor by day did she cease from her dreadful task of love until at last, when the scant harvest was sorrowfully housed, the Lord accepted the atonement made, and made the blessed rain to drop from heaven — the rain which had been withheld so long because sin had bound up the bottles of heaven. Until it was clear that God's wrath was removed, Rizpah stood to her po-t, protecting as best she could the unburied relics of those who were so dear to her. It is a ghastly picture. It is worthy of the pencil of Gustave Dore, or some artist with a grimmer pencil: the seven corpses hanging up in the pale moonbeams; the wolf howling at the

woman's feet, and the gray-haired mother all alone (for she must have been

of great age), battling with the beasts and birds, out of love, unconquerable love to her dear children. We cannot paint, but we can meditate, and it maybe we shall be the better for the lessons which Rizpah shall teach us.

We are led to reflect upon THE TENDER LOVE WHICH WE SHOULD HAVE

TOWARDS OUR CHILDREN, AND HOW THAT LOVE SHOULD MANIFEST

ITSELF.

This woman protected her offspring even after they were dead; she would not suffer their remains to be mutilated by ravenous birds and beasts; much more should we watch with anxious tenderness over our children while yet they live. Their bodies are not exposed to any devouring monster, but their souls are. There is one who goeth about like a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour, and when a little of the good seed of truth is sown in those young hearts, birds of the air hasten to devour it. 0 parents, how should you guard your children against temptation ! How should you seek to strengthen them for the battle of life into which they must so soon be thrust

! By your prayers, and your teaching, and your example, should you endeavor to the utmost to preserve them from the paths of the destroyer, so that if they perish their blood may not be upon their parents' skirts, but the rather may the promise be fulfilled to you, "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved and lb!/house."

I am afraid we do not all feel the responsibility of parents as we should do.

Who amongst; us can say, "I am quite clear as to the bringing up of my sons and daughters"? May you never live to see them become your curse ! May you never nourish in your bosom the viper that shall sting you ! If you lead them to the throne of grace, if you put their little hands upon the horns of the all. at of the atonement, if' it be your earnest endeavor to train them up in the fear of God, and to dedicate them while they are yet children to the cause of Christ, you may expect with all confidence that when they are old they shall not depart frown the way in which you have trained them up;

nay, they shall succeed you in the ways of truth, and instead of the fathers shall be the children.

I am very thankful that our heavenly Father has saved so many of the children of this church. We rejoice that

"Many dear children are gathering here, For of such is the kingdom of heaven."

May the Lord plant in his garden many more of those sweet flowers whose buds and blossoms he loves so well. Ah, mothers ! you have not to keep a mournful vigil beneath your sons hanging upon the tree: do not grow weary, then, when you are called diligently to watch against your children's follies and failings. Have patience with them! Have compassion for them ! What a mercy it is that they are yours ! Notwithstanding the trouble they cost you, you would not for all the world lose the prattle of their little tongues, and the music of their merry feet; and as you remember — for perhaps you have already experienced it — how briny are those tears which fall upon little coffin-lids, thank God that you are indulged with the trouble of bringing up your babes; bless God that you have so sweet a weariness as that of caring for their souls. That lesson needs but a hint, for sanctified nature teaches us this.

There are points in Rizpah's case worthy of the Christian's imitation. Her case, in certain aspects, runs parallel with our own. She sat. beneath the gibbet, and we watch beneath the cross: she guarded her slain sons. we who love the Lord Jesus defend him from his foes.

NOTICE THIS WOMAN IN THE CONSTANCY OF HER WATCHING. As, in my solitude, I read of Rizpah's watchfulness, I felt ashamed of myself — so thoroughly ashamed that I thought I heard my Master say to me, "What, could ye not watch with me one hour?" Here is a woman who watches with the dead, not one hour, nor one day, but weeks and mouths, while we are so unspiritual and so carnal that a little watching with our Lord soon tires us out ! Even when we draw near to the Master's table our thoughts wander. When our minds should concentrate all their faculties upon the one topic of the well beloved's flowing wounds and purple sweat, his bleeding head, and hands, and feet, our imaginations wickedly ramble abroad, and we cease to keep watch with Jesus; yet here is Rizpah, with undivided heart, faithful to her charge from month to month.

This sorrowful mother's watch was a very ghastly one. Marvellous must have been her courage and affection. Few women could have endured the dreadful scene, especially at night. Think of it — a lone woman with those seven corpses swinging in the breeze ! Brave hearts, would ye be quite so bold in such a case? Every time they creaked to and fro, or the wolf howled, or the owl hooted from the ruined palace, we should have started and been ready to take to our heels; but there she sat watching, sleeplessly watching, mournfully watching, on, on, oil, while the stars and the sun kept

guard by turns in heaven ! None relieved her at cock-crowing, or took her place at sundown; her ratch was ceaseless and unbroken. Ah, grim and ghastly spectacle for a tender woman's eye! How different is our watch at the foot of the cross ! for there is nothing ghastly there. If' you had ever seen a sickening picture of Christ upon the cross, you have turned away with abhorrence, for the crucified Savior is never a hideous though ever a saddening sight. In riding through the Tyrol, I saw a long succession of horrible images of our Lord by the roadside, and I felt as if I could fain get out of the carriage and break them all in godly indignation. My conceptions of Christ on his cross bring before me a very painful and awe-inspiring' scene, but still there is nothing of the hideous and the ghastly there. No, the sight was such that angels, amazed and astounded, might have lingered long and gazed admiringly —

"See from his head, his hands, his feet, Sorrow and love flow mingled down !

Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, Or thorns compose so rich a crown !"

The fair lily of the valley on the cross became red as the rose of Sharon, but his loveliness was all unmarred. No awful tremor and dread seize our souls beneath the tree of Calvary, but rather

"Sweet the moments, rich in blessing, Which before the cross 1 spend."

Though Jesus sighs, and cries, and gasps, and dies, yet is the sight

delightful to the humbled heart as it reads there the jubilee, the mercy, the love, the pity of the bleeding' Sou of God.

Poor Rizpah's watch again was a most miserable one.

She lodged upon the hare rock; her sackcloth was but a scant and wretched shelter, but it was all the protection she had from the heavy night dews or the burning sunbeams. But see where we sit at the foot of Jesus' cross ! we are housed in a pavilion of divine love, fairer than the silken curtains of Solomon. Look up, ye lovers of Christ, and see the purple canopy of the atonement which covers you from the night dews of worldly sorrow, and from the fierce heats of almighty justice. None dwell so royally as those who abide hard by the cross. Though as to our human surroundings, we may dwell in the black tents of Kedar, when we approach the Crucified One, we are introduced to the ivory palaces, wherein our garments are

made to smell of aloes and cassia. Let me invite you, then, to come to the foot of the cross, because your vigil will be so much more blessed than that which Rizpah kept. The vision of Calvary is fair, the suffering person is divinely attractive, and even his death surpassingly lovely. Come ye, then, and watch, and wonder, and adore.

Emulate Rizpah's watching, emulate it in this, that she was an abiding watcher. She did not watch for some few minutes, and then depart, but she made her abode beneath the gallows. She meant to live there till those bodies should be taken down. "Abide in me," saith Christ, "and I in you,"

but ahs ! we flit and fir from bough to bough, inconstant in our communion with our best friend, We are too much like the bird we read of in the old Saxon story. When the first missionary was preaching in the royal hall, he told of the peace which the gospel brings to sinners, and the rest which souls find in Jesus. After his sermon, an ancient chieftain spake his mind, and compared himself and his countrymen in their unrest to the bird which just then, attracted by the light, flew into the bright hall through the open window, flitted through the warmth and light, and passed out again into the darkness and the cold by a window on the other side of the banqueting hall.

The simile might well apply to our transient fellowship; we have brief communings and then away we pass into worldliness and indifference. Oh, would it not be blessed if we could abide with Jesus for ever, building our nest in his palace ! How heavenly our life if we could walk with him, as Enoch did, in our business, in our families, in all places and at all hours! If instead of now and then climbing the sunny peak of fellowship, and

standing near to heaven, and conversing with the Son of God, we could for ever dwell in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, how much more noble a life to lead ] Imitate Rizpah, the daughter of Aiah, in her abiding

unmovingly near her beloved ones — abide with Jesus evermore.

Emulate Rizpah again, and like her make your WATCH A LOVING ONE. If any compassionate traveler had saluted her, he might have said, "Woman with the gray hair, have pity on thyself, and go thy way ! Why tarries; thou here alone, on the bleak side of Gibeah's hill? Why lingerest thou amidst these putrid corpses, which pollute the air? Go, unhappy woman, where there are friends to shelter thee ! The night-dews will chill thy marrow, and the fierce sun will parch thy soul; have pity on thyself, and leave the dead, lest thou too soon be one of them. Go home to kinsfolk, who will comfort thee! there are still some left that love thee. The fame of thy deed of love, hath ;win thee hearts that will yield respectful homage to thy grief's. Go

home, thou venerable woman; though like Naomi, thou shouldst say, ' Call me Mara ! Tot the Almighty hath dealt bitterly with me; go thy way, and peace be with thee.'" Do you not hear her firm reply, "I will not; by the love of God, I will not leave them ! for they are my children, my children

— the offspring of my bowels. Wherefore bid me leave them? Shall you vultures tear their flesh, which is my flesh as much as theirs. Stroll the grim wolf devour those who once lay on this bosom? Wherefore bid me go? Ye see nothing but ghastliness there, but I see myself in my children yonder.

Would God I had died for them; that I had died for them, and given up this wrinkled form, that their young lives might, have been spared to them! I cannot and I will not]cave them. Till the soft bosom of their mother earth shall give them shelter, their mother's hand shall defend them." O love, what canst thou not do? Beloved of the Lord, love is the great force which will keep you dose to Jesus. lf you love him with a deep, passionate love, you will abide with him. If the mere love of nature could keep a woman watching thus, what ought the love of grace to do? for grace should

conquer nature, and gratitude, for countless blessings, should create in us a love more deep and impetuous than the love of women — a love which many waters cannot quench, and which the floods cannot drown.

Admire the great love of this afflicted woman; admire her affectionate constancy, and pray for such love to Jesus, that you may resolve and keep the resolution, "I will not leave my Savior: I will hold him and will not let him go. Neither life nor death shall divide me from him."

"Love and grief my heart dividing, With my tears his feet I'll bathe;

Constant still in faith abiding.

Life deriving from his death."

We will now shift, the kaleidoscope a little, and view the matter from another point. As we have commended to you this woman Rizpah in the constancy of her watching, so we now exhort you to imitate her in THE

ZEAL WITH WHICH SHE GUARDED HER CHILDREN.

As we have already observed, all the day long she chased away the carrion crows, the kites, and vultures, and eagles — no small employment that! — and when the night set in, and fierce eyes glared from the thickets on the hillside, and the bark of the jackal and the howl of the wolf were heard, there still was she to be seen, valiant as a man of war, chasing-away, with lamentable cries, the beasts flint fain would have given her children a living

grave. That woman's love was grand! No classic legend ever stood out more sublimely! I do not believe a man could have loved so much. A man might have taken down the corpses, and by a desperate deed of courage have buried them, in defiance of God and man; but only a woman could have bowed to the stem decree and then have kept up that long night-and- day watch for the protection of the bones of her children. I pray that each one of us may guard our blessed Lord against the attacks, the slanders, and blasphemies, and heresies of his enemies. Jesus reigns in our hearts; let us expel from our spirits those foul thoughts which seek a lodging there. Do you tell me that you have none? Oh, if you speak the truth I envy you ! What would I give if I could be rid of every foul and offensive thought ! But alas ! they seem to abound within my heart like midges in the evening's sunbeams. They fly as a cloud, and who can chase them away ! The sins which we hate the most we are often the most temtped to, and the

mischief’s which we would avoid most anxiously thrust themselves upon us as though they would take our hearts by storm. Watch, then, Christian, watch, watch, watch. "What I say unto you I say unto all — Watch." Let no foul bird enter your soul to pollute the temple of the Holy Ghost, and destroy your fellowship with Jesus. What do I see? I spoke of wolves just now. Ah ! wolfish passions would fain roam in our souls and rend our love to Jesus. Do you never find yourselves near the wolves in your business? I know you do, for I do in mine, and mine, methinks, is more sacred work than yours, yet temptation's wolves howl in my study, and in the

Tabernacle, and in the vestries; they waylay me everywhere. Oh, watch against the attacks of sin! You who are professors of Christ, I beseech you guard carefully your lives. Give up your profession or else sustain it honorably. My brethren and sisters, I speak the truth in God, I lie not; my conscience also bearing me witness in the Holy Ghost, that I would fain go down upon my knees to you, and say to you, "If you do not mean to be holy, leave off your profession, do not bring dishonor upon my Master's name. Why should you? What harm has he done you? Oh ! if you must be lost, why add to all your other sins that of hypocrisy? If you must be Satan's servant, are there no other ways of doing him a turn except by playing the Judas? Keep out of your hearts, by the Spirit's power,

everything that would dishonor Christ. I pray you, by the blood of Jesus, chase away the beasts of prey. Whether they come by night or day, do not suffer them to form their lairs within your affections. Jesus deserves to be adored, no; to be dishonored, He deserves that we should live and die for