Its silk and embroidery exhibit to the eye of faith the pure and spotless flesh of Christ, Heb. x. 20. As, by rending the material veil, the holy of holies became visible and accessible; so, by piercing the body and spilling the blood of Christ, the God of heaven was manifested and the way to heaven opened.

Every reader must admire those divided waves, which, instead of overwhelming the Israelites with a resistless deluge, stood like a wall of defence on their right hand and on their left, as they marched through the depths of the sca. Every reader must admire that suspended cloud, which spread itself like a spacious canopy over the hosts of Israel, and screened them from the annoying sunbeams as they passed through the sultry desert. Our admiration must be heightened, when we find that which was a cloud by day becoming a pillar of fire by night, and illuminating their camp with the most amazing as well as the most cheering splendour. But St. Paul discerned a greater glory, and a deeper design, in those unparalleled events. The people, he says, "were baptized unto Moses, in the cloud and in the sea," 1 Cor. x. 2. These symbolically represented the baptism of water and of fire; or the application of Christ's blood to our souls, and the efficacy of his Spirit on our hearts:-in the former of which consists our justification, from the latter of which proceeds our sanctification.

I fear you will think my discourse somewhat like the journey just now mentioned; but I must not wholly omit the Epistle to the Hebrews, which is the most unexceptionable vindication, as well as the faultless model, of allegorical exposition. It is delightful to observe what propriety of address the inspired writer uses. He speaks to the Jews in their own way; alludes to their own usages, ordinances, and ceremonies; proves them to be types of, and guides to, a more clear, a more benign, and in all respects a more excellent economy*. More particularly he displays the transcendent superiority of Christ and his gifts, even to those persons and privileges which they held in the highest esteem. These, like the morning star, were introductory to, yet totally eclipsed by, the rising sun.

They had exalted apprehensions of the angelic excellencies. The apostle therefore celebrates the Redeemer, as the Lord whom angels obey, as the God whom angels adore. They always reckoned Moses to be the first favorite of heaven, and chief among the children of men. He lets them know, that Moses, with all his extraordinary endowments, was but a servant in the house of Jesus. It was his greatest honour to minister unto this Prince of Peace. As the priesthood and sacrifices were some of their distinguishing privileges, he shows the pre-eminence of Christ's office to all the Aaronic orders. He demonstrates the extensive and everlasting efficacy of his one atonement, in preference to every form, and the whole series of Levitical oblations. Ther. Thus interpreted, I must acknowledge, the book of Levitical ceremonies is significant and edifying; whereas, abstracted from this evangelical improvement, nothing can be more empty and jejune. I once thought, that to peruse those obsolete canons, was like sitting down to an entertainment of dry bones. But, if such be their import, they may yield marrow and fatness to the attentive mind.

He styles the legal oblations, and the whole service of the Jewish sanctuary, "the example and shadow of heavenly things;" or of Christ Jesus, and evangelical worship, and spiritual blessings, Heb. viii. 5.

Due care, however, should be taken, not to suppose a type where there is no apparent foundation of analogy in the thing itself, or no hint of this nature given us by the unerring Spirit; lest, instead of being guided by truth, we are bewildered by fancy. And when either or both these handles present themselves, I think we should beware of straining the subject beyond the bounds of a just and reasonable comparison; lest, instead of following the clue, we stretch it till it breaks. If the first caution is not observed, the sense of Scripture will lie so deep or be removed to such a distance, that none but persons of the most acute discernment can find it, or none but persons of the most excursive imagination can reach it. If the second is not regarded, the meaning of those divine volumes will become so vague and volatile, that there will hardly remain any possibility of ascertaining or fixing it.

Asp. As to the expedience and necessity of these cautionary limitations, I have the pleasure of agreeing entirely with my friend. Let our fancy submit to the reins of judgment, otherwise her excursions will be wild and lawless. Let our zeal borrow the eyes of discretion, otherwise her efforts will be blind and extravagant. And let all, thus tempered, thus regulated, be under the influence of enlightening grace. Then to spiritualize the ancient Scriptures, will be to convert the stones of the sanctuary into the jewels of a crown; and to fetch, not water only, but milk and honey, from the flinty rock.

Then how pleasing must it be, as well as instructive, to discover the blessed Jesus in all the institutions of the Mosaic law! To see his incarnation prefigured by the feast of tabernacles, when the Israelites were to relinquish their houses and lodge in booths, Lev. xxiii. 34. 40. 42.; even as the Son of God left the bosom of his Father and the seats of bliss, to inhabit a cottage of clay, and sojourn in a vale of tears. To see our spotless and divine Victim, typically slain at the joyful solemnity of the passover, and the anniversary fast of expiation. To see his death, that inestimable ransom for our souls, presented to our faith, in every morning and evening sacrifice, Exod. xxix. 38, 39.; his intercession, that prevailing recommendation of our prayers, most sweetly expressed by the rich incense which attended the sacred rite. To see the various methods of purification; some pointing at the fountain for sin and for uncleanness, opened in our Redeemer's bleeding heart, Exod. xxix. 4. Psal. li. 7.; others referring to those sanctifying operations of the Spirit, which act as a refiner's fire, or as fuller's soap, Numb. xxxi. 23. Isa. iv. 4. To see, in the city of refuge, that perfect security which Christ's meritorious sufferings in our stead afford to every penitent and believing sinner, Numb. xxxv. 11, 12.

Was it so very affecting and so very encouraging to Æneas, when he beheld the story of the Trojan heroes pictured upon the walls of the Carthaginian temple? (Virg. Æn. 1.) How much greater encouragement and joy must arise in the Christian's breast, when he perceives the amiable lincaments of his everlasting Friend portrayed in all the peculiarities of the Jewish worship, and in the most distinguishing events of the Jewish history! This must highly ennoble the Bible, and inexpressibly endear it to our affections. This spreads lustre, life, and glory, through every page of that blessed book. And though I would forbear indulging what might be called a pious wantonness of imagination; yet I should much rather choose, in expounding the Scriptures, to ramble with Augustine than err with Grotius; sec, or think I see,

my Saviour, even where it may not perhaps be easy to make out the traces of his dignity to the satisfaction of a rigorous inquirer, rather than shut my eyes upon the display of his perfections when they beam forth with the most inviting beauty.

Ther. How soon is this walk finished! How imperceptibly has the time stole away! These garden gates I always used to approach with a particular complacency. They seemed to afford me a welcome retreat from the impertinence and vanity of the world. Now, methinks, I enter them with reluctance, because they are likely to put a period to this agreeable conversation. However, as my Aspasio enters with me, I am reconciled, I am satisfied. It will be in his power to restore the pleasure which must now be interrupted. And this is what I shall ere long request, because I have not spoke my whole mind upon the present subject.

Asp. Whenever you think proper, Theron. This is to me a favourite subject; and not to me only, but to incomparably better judges. The man who had been caught up into the third heavens, and seen the visions of God, "determined to know nothing but Jesus Christ, and him crucified," 1 Cor. ii. 2. At the grandest assembly that ever was convened on earth, this furnished the principal, if not the only topic of conversation. And in that world where the voice of joy and thanksgiving is perpetually heard, this constitutes the burden of the song, "Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood," Rev. v. 9.

DIALOGUE IV.

Ther. I MUST now desire my Aspasio to inform me, what that grand assembly was, (which he mentioned in the close of our last discourse), and where convened?

Asp. Can you not guess, Theron?-Was it in the plains of Thessaly, when Xerxes drew together the forces of more than half the known world, and appeared at the head of all the potentates of the east? Was it in the Roman forum, when the senators were assembled in their robes, and the barbarians took them for a synod of gods? No: it was on the mount of transfiguration, where the Son of the true God, the Lord of eternal glory, shone forth in some of his celestial and native splendour; with garments white as the snow, Mark ix. 3. and a countenance bright as the sun : where he conversed with two of his most distinguished saints, just come down from the regions of bliss and immortality; with Moses the great deliverer of the law, and with Elijah the resolute restorer of its honours: where he was attended by three of his principal ambassadors, who were to be the reformers of mankind, and the lights of the world.

This, I think, is the most venerable and august assembly that the annals of history have recorded.—And what was the topic of conversation among these illustrious personages? Not the affairs of state, nor the revolutions of empires; not the curious refinements of literature, nor the wonderful discoveries of philosophy; but the ignominious and bloody exit which the divine Jesus was soon to make at Jerusalem. This circumstance, methinks,

should recommend the subject to our frequent discourse, even though it was less eminent for intrinsic dignity and comfortable import.

Talking in this manner, they arrive at the park; which, the moment you enter, fills the view with its bold, enlarged, and magnificent sweep. It was diversified with level and rising ground. Here scooped into mimic amphitheatres, with the deer pendent on the little summit, or shooting down the easy precipice; there raised into gentle hillocks, some of which were canopied with a large spreading solitary oak, others were tufted with a cluster of tapering and verdant elms. Two or three cascades, gleaming from afar, as they poured along the slanting rock or the grassy slope, gave a pleasing variation to the prospect; while they startled the timorous inexperienced fawns with their foaming current and watery roar. Grandeur and simplicity seemed to be the genius of the place. Every thing breathed an air of noble negligence, and artless majesty.

In the centre of all rose a curious romantic mount. Its form was exactly round, somewhat like a sugar-loaf, lopt off a little below the point. Not coeval with nature, but the work of human industry. Thrown up, it is supposed, in those perilous times, when Britain was alarmed by foreign invasions, or bled with intestine wounds. It was covered all around with alder shrubs; whose ranks, gradually arising and spreading shade above shade, composed a kind of woody theatre, through which were struck two or three spiral walks, leading, by a gentle ascent, and under embowering. verdure to the summit. At proper intervals, and on every side of the hill, were formed little arborets, with apertures cut through the boughs to admit. a prospect of the country. In one or other of these leafy boxes you command, at every hour of the day, either the enlivening sun or the refreshing shade. All along the circling avenues, and all around the beauteous rests, sprung daffodils, primroses, and violets; which, mingling with hyacinths and cowslips, composed many a charming piece of natural mosaic.

How agreeable, as they climb and wind themselves round the hill, to reflect on the happy change which has now taken place! Where steely helmets gleamed, or brazen shields clashed, the goldfinches twitter their loves, and display their painted plumes. The dens of rapine, or the horrid haunts of bloodshed, are become the retreats of calm contemplation and friendly converse. In yonder lower spaces, where the armed troops were wont to patrole, from whence they made excursions to ravage the villages or terrify the swains, the fallow-deer trip lightly, or the full-headed stags stand at bay.

From a small eminence, but at a considerable distance, gushed a couple of springs, which, rambling through a grove, lost one another in the shady labyrinth. Emerging at length from the gloom, they approached nearer and nearer, and fell into embraces at the foot of this hill. They rolled in amicable conjunction along the pebbly channel which encircles its basis, and added their sober melody to the sprightly warbling of the birds. Flowing off in one common stream, they formed the fine pieces of water which beautified the park. From thence they stole into the meadow, and widened into a river. There, enamoured as it were with each other, they glide by wealthy towns, and sweep through flowery vales; regardless of the blooming toys which deck the one, and of the noisy crowds which throng the other.

So, said Aspasio, may Theron and his Selina, pleasing and pleased with

each other, pass through the busy and the amusing scenes of life; neither captivated by the one, nor anxious for the other. With such harmonious agreement, and indissoluble union, may they pursue the course marked out by Providence, their happiness increasing, and their usefulness enlarging, as they draw nearer the Ocean of all good! Then, parted by a gentle stroke of fate, like the waters of some ample stream severed by the piers of an intervening bridge, may they speedily reunite! reunite in consummate bliss, and never be separated more!

Ther. I thank you, Aspasio, for your affectionate compliment. Nor can I wish you, by way of return, a greater recompence, than the continual exercise of such a benevolent temper. For to exercise benevolence, is to enjoy the most refined and exalted pleasure; such as makes the nearest approaches to the felicity of the Eternal Mind, who, as the Scripture most beautifully speaks, "has pleasure in the prosperity of his servants."

But while we are seated on this mount, our situation reminds us of (what you just now mentioned) the grand conference relating to the death of Christ- -a business for which you have indeed accounted, but in a manner that may be thought not the most honourable to the divine attributes.

Asp. I have represented it as a ranson for our souls, and a sacrifice for our sins. If you disapprove my account, be pleased to favour me with your own. For what purpose, according to your opinion, did that ever-blessed person die?

Ther. To confirm the truth of his doctrine, and leave us a pattern of the most perfect resignation.

Asp. And is this all? Shall we thus impoverish the riches of grace? Was this notion defensible, it could never be desirable. But it has as little to support it as it has to recommend it. For, upon such a supposition, where is the difference between the death of Christ and the death of the martyrs? They confirmed the truth of the gospel: In their sufferings was obedience and resignation, the same in quality, though not in degree. Upon such a supposition, what benefit could the ancient patriarchs receive from the Redeemer; since none could be improved by the example of his patience, or the pattern of his obedience, till they were actually exhibited? or how could Christ be styled, "the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world?" Rev. xiii. 8.; the advantages of whose death commenced from the very beginning, as they will be prolonged even to the end of time.

Not to depend on consequential arguments, let us hear the express declaration of our divine Master himself: "This is my blood, which is shed" for what? To give credibility to my gospel, or yield an example of entire resignation? Rather-" for the remission of sins," Matt. xxvi. 28. Will any one attempt to make the remission of sins, and the proposal of a pattern, or the ratification of a doctrine, synonymous terms? They who can torture and transmute the genuine sense of words at this extraordinary rate, may metamorphose any expression into any meaning.

If, then, we would consider our Lord's death in its due amplitude, we must consider it both as a pattern of piety and as a ransom for sinners; we must neither separate nor confound these very distinct, yet very consistent effects.

Ther. Is it not inconsistent with the acknowledged principles of justice, that the innocent should be punished instead of the offender?