bud is nipped, and her cherished hopes blighted as in a moment. The object of all her anxieties and anticipations, her hopes and joys, is stricken down by the destroyer, Death. What pen could portray the agony, the despair of that lone widow, as she lays down from her arms that lovely boy, now cold and lifeless; imprints a kiss upon the marble brow, and gazes on the pale form as the last object that made earth desirable! How imploringly she appeals to the man of God, perhaps with some faint hope that he may aid her in this extreme distress! The scene is one of painful interest. The bereaved mother refuses to be comforted; the man of God stands calm and thoughtful, his soul moved with sympathy for the suffering mourner : "Elijah took the child out of her bosom, and carried him up into his own room, and laid him upon his own bed." What were the mother's feelings when she saw the holy man retire to his room with her lifeless child in his arms! what hope sprang to life, to be crushed the next moment by doubt and despair! But Elijah "cried unto the Lord, and said, Oh, Lord, my God, hast thou also brought evil upon the widow with whom I sojourn, by slaying her son! And he stretched himself upon the child three times, and cried unto the Lord, and said, Oh, Lord, my God, I pray thee, let this child's soul come into him again." The Lord heard the prayer of his servant, and restored the child to life; and Elijah brought him to his mother; "and said, See, thy son liveth!" After this wonderful event, the widow, her son, and her guest, continued to dwell happily together, sustained by the special providence of God, until the day that it pleased Him to replenish the earth with refreshing showers and fruitful seasons.

Without doubt, one of the most beautiful and attractive phases of Christian charity is hospitality. Often it is found in higher and more frequent exercise among the poor than the rich. "Come, share my crust," says the poor man, with a free heart, ungrudgingly; but to share the last crust with a stranger-this

was the unparalleled hospitality of the poor widow of Sarepta. Twice blessed was that charity to her. "Be given to hospitality :" "When I was a stranger ye took me in :" "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares :" "And whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water only, in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward." Widow of Sarepta ! surely thou hadst overpayment, and shall we not all? What investment is like that "charity" which "covereth a multitude of sins!" What venture like the heart's trust in these and such like promises!" He that soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully:" "He that hath pity on the poor lendeth to the Lord; and that which he hath given will HE pay him again :" "God is not unrighteous to forget your work and labour of love, which ye have showed toward his name, in that ye have ministered to the saints and do minister."

XVII.

THE HOLY FAMILY.

BY REV. B. M. PALMER.

AMONG the family groups presented to our view in the Scriptures, not one is contemplated with such various and intense interest as the Holy family. This title itself, by which, from immemorial antiquity, it has been separated from all the families of the earth, hedges it round with associations the most sacred, and awakens reflections which easily glide into frames of devotion. Pious families have, in every age, been embraced within the covenant of God, the individual members of which we may call holy, in a relative sense; indeed, many of these have been drawn by inspired men, in fuller proportions than it seemed good to the Spirit to draw for us the characters either of Mary or of Joseph. Certainly, the elements of piety have not been so nicely analyzed in these, nor has such a diversified Christian experience been assigned to them, as the Scriptures attribute to many of the early patriarchs, or to some of the kings of Judah. However distinguished as the parents and protectors of the infant Jesus, they, no less than others, were sinners saved by grace, were justified by a righteousness imputed to them, and experienced the same "washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Ghost." They, like others, "rejoiced in God their Saviour," and were in no other sense holy than as they were "washed, sanctified, and justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God." Their holiness was "like the light of fire mixed with smoke; an infused holiness accompanied with a natural taint." It is not, therefore,

for their super-eminent piety, however great, that the common consent of ages has applied to this family the epithet, holy. But within the inclosure of this domestic circle there is a being who, considered in his human nature alone, lifts our minds to the most elevated meditations. Born of a woman, with all the corporeal and intellectual endowments of a real man, with all those sympathies and affections which bind our race into a common brotherhood, he was yet born free from that taint which in its fountain head corrupted the very nature of mankind. He is the only human being to whom the epithet, holy, may be applied in its absolute sense. Of him alone the record runs that he "was holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners." Poetry has vainly employed its richest fancy to conceive the idea of a perfect man, and philosophy has refined its nicest distinctions to express the attributes which should adorn him. And, if while mourning amid the ruins of our fallen nature, the revelation were for the first time made, that such a being should actually exist, and that in accomplishing the usual stages of infancy, youth, and manhood, he should exhibit the pattern of a blameless life, with what acclamation would this promise be received! with what admiration would all eyes turn upon this spectacle! with what critical inspection would his character and walk be surveyed!-yet it is this spectacle which is viewed in the babe of Bethlehem. During thirty years he passes through all the fortunes of human life without a stain ; exercises affections the most ardent, without the alloy of human passion; cherishes sympathies the most keen, without the imperfection of irritability; and works actions the most notable, in which are mingled equally the elements of goodness and of power.

This holy being, too, against whom the law brings not a single challenge, undergoes all the pain and sorrow which form in part the penalty of sin; and these sufferings, which yet avenge no transgressions of his own, invest him with a most affecting interest. Born in a lowly condition, he proves all the morti

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fications of obscurity; without the poor shelter which even birds and foxes, under a benignant providence, enjoy, he knows the pain of dependence; lonely amidst the moving crowd, death snatches the few friends of his heart, and he feels the pang of bereavement; his pure ears are filled with the coarsest invectives of brutal foes; and his guileless spirit is pierced with sharp and malignant suspicions. It was his bitter lot to endure the kiss of the betrayer, the desertion of timid friends, and the savage insults of enemies who gloat over the agonies of his dying hour. We speak not now of the supernatural horrors which hung around his soul when he made that "soul an offering for sin." Viewing him alone in his natural relations, we trace his path of suffering, reproach, and want, till it loses itself in the awful gloom of the crucifixion. At every step we recognize the " man of sorrows;" his acquaintance with grief has "marred his form more than the sons of men." Nature, blunted and selfish as she is, bids us weep over the sufferings which are yet the due reward of sin; but what sympathy is felt to be adequate when the sufferer is sinless, and bears in his bleeding bosom the broken points of a thousand shafts aimed to avenge the sins of others!

Another feature, attaching the eye of the beholder to this group as to none beside, is found in the singular constitution of this household. In every other, from the very order in which families are developed, the parents must be the central figures. Their offspring, however they may afterwards eclipse them, are, in the beginnings of their history, wrapped within those from whom, in their fortunes and in their character, they are developed. They become important only as they enlarge, and in the lapse of time push their ancestors from the stage, to occupy their place. But in this group, the child is the commanding figure, and from first to last concentrates upon himself the gaze of all beholders. Nor is the tie the same which binds him to his parents. To Joseph he sustains only the relation of an adopted son: no blood of his flows through