RECOLLECTIONS OF AN ADDRESS BY THE REV. W. H. CHANNING. [The following recollections of one of Mr. Channing's Sunday afternoon addresses to the children, have been written by two girls, who heard it, aged 13 and 14. This fact will give them an additional interest to our readers, who will also, we hope, ponder over and take to themselves the important lessons which the address suggested.] 2 Cor. v. 10. "For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that every one may receive the things done in the body according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad." Ir is not that we must all appear at some future time on the last day, but we do all appear every moment of our lives. Now-at this present instant-we are being judged by God, and everything we do is laid up in the mind of God. But in this judgment is nothing arbitrary or unjust. As God is so entirely pure, wise, and just, he cannot, when we are sinful, impure, and unjust, see us in any light than as such. Mr. Channing said that, when he was in Paris, he saw the weavers making tapestry. Each weaver had a picture, which he was to copy and weave into this tapestry;-he had a heap of silk threads by him, and every now and then he took a thread and wove it in, and then he would turn round and look at the original to see if it was right. Mr. Channing said that a great many thoughts came into his mind from seeing these things, which would help to illustrate the subject of the text. The weavers are ourselves; the tapestry is our lives-the characters we are forming; the heaps of sik threads are our passions, emotions, thoughts, and feelings, which we weave into our lives; and the picture that the weaver has to copy is the picture that God has in his own mind of what he intended us to be, and what he expects us to be, and that is what we should always keep in view to copy. But if, instead of copying the original, we weave in our own bad passions, unkind thoughts and actions into our picture, then how it will mar it; and if we are idļe, and do not attend or go on with our picture, then there will be a hole, a blank place, which can never be filled up; and if we are careless, and do not take pains, then it will be uneven, and the threads loose and not pressed down ;-instead of a bright golden thread, it will be a dark, dingy colour. If the weaver has put in a thread, and on looking at his copy, he finds it all wrong, he has to take it out and do it over again ;—but not so with us. The thing once done must remain-it can never be undone: what we did yesterday is done for ever, and no power can recal that yesterday—it is gone, and can never be recalled. As the weaver is doing his work, he rolls up the part that is finished; and when the whole is done, it is sent to be hung on the walls of the king's palace. Just so with us. Our past lives are rolled up in the mind of God; but they are all there— nothing has escaped; and when we die, and our picture is finished, we shall see it hung out, and see our lives just as they have been, and just as God has seen them all along. Then all the blots and blanks will be visible. We should see to it, then, that our picture will be something beautiful for the angels to look at and admire. It is very necessary that we should often look at our pictures, to see whether they are right, and compare them with our copy-we should look at it every night, or at least every week; and there is one day in the year that we should particularly look at, and examine our picture, that is on our birthday, to see whether we are improved, and how much. Mr. Channing said, that he was often afraid that these lessons he taught were soon forgotten, that they did not make much impression; but he hoped, rather, that they were buried in our memories, and that they should be remembered at some future time. He had read a story of a monastery that was attacked by robbers; there was a very beautiful organ, which had very sweet tones, in that monastery, and the monks were so afraid of its being injured, that they buried it in a wood, and sometimes, when the wind blew, people passing would hear the sweet tones of that organ. Just so he hoped these exhortations would be stored up in our hearts, and be recalled at some future time, producing in our lives the music of sweet and gentle affections. A. V. We ought not to think that we are all to be judged at the end of our lives, for we are all being judged at this very time and very moment of our existence. We ought not to think God's judgment of us is arbitrary, for he is so perfectly pure in himself, he cannot but think us impure when we disobey him. Mr. Channing said that, when he was at Paris, he went to see the weavers making tapestry. Each weaver was doing a different picture; some of them were beautiful ones; one was the transfiguration of Christ. And each man had a picture before him, which he was copying; and after he had woven in the different colours, he compared it with the copy to see if it was correct, and if it was wrong he had to undo it, and do it over again; and the part of the picture that was done was rolled up at the top and out of sight. These were the thoughts which Mr. Chanuing said came to him at the time :-That the tapestry which the men were making might be compared to our lives, and the weavers to ourselves;and the threads that they were weaving into the tapestry might be compared to our motives, and the part of the tapestry that was rolled up to our past lives, which are rolled up in the memory of God. When the weavers do the tapestry wrong, they can undo it, but not so with us. If we do what is wrong in our lives, we cannot undo it, and it will stand out as a blot in our lives; and if we waste and idle our time, then it is a blank space that can never be filled up; and if we do our work and do it carelessly, then it makes it look rough and uneven, and sometimes our evil temper makes us weave in black and dark-coloured threads instead of bright golden ones, which spoils the look of our pictures. When the tapestry that the men were weaving was done, it was to be hung up on some palace walls. It is the same with our lives: they will be unrolled and hung up on the glorious palace walls of heaven,-and if they are beautiful, they will be something for the angels to admire. We ought to compare our lives with the picture that God has of us in his mind, once a day, once a week, and once a year. Mr. Channing said that he was sometimes afraid his afternoon addresses did not make much impression upon us; that we thought of it just at the time, and afterwards they passed away from our memories; but that he would rather think we had them stored up in our memories, and they would come out at some future time. Mr. Channing said that he had read a story, during the past week, of some monks who had buried an organ in a deep wood, because they were afraid of some warriors destroying it, who had taken possession of the temple where the organ always was; but the sweet tones of this organ were often heard by the people who passed by when the wind passed over it. And so with us: he hoped that his lessons would be buried in our hearts, and come out at some future time. S. V. THE TEMPLE AT JERUSALEM. THE most correct and descriptive records we have of this magnificent structure, cannot, of course, present to the most lively imagination, a plain idea of its real beauty and grandeur. To Jewish worshippers it must have been a precious sanctuary; the dearly-loved and valued shrine, on which were laid their hearts' best affections. To us, as Bible readers, it must still be an object of interest, as we trace its name or scme connection with it, so often imprinted on the sacred page; whilst as Christians it should still appear to us, an edifice over which, in our minds, hovers a cloud of holy associations. An enquiry into the origin of a Temple at Jerusalem leads us back to a very early period in the history of the Jews. Their sanctuary was not always that firm and stately building described as the Temple, but at first was only a moveable Tabernacle, constructed after the departure of the Children of Israel from Egypt. The form of the Tabernacle was an oblong-square, it was about fifty-five feet long, eighteen feet broad, and the same in height. Three of its sides (the eastern one excepted) were formed of boards of Shittim wood, covered with thin plates of gold, which by means of bars of the same materials, and rings of gold, were fastened to pillars, some of which rested in sockets of silver, others in brass. The Tabernacle thus formed was covered with four curtains; the first or inner one, which was the ceiling, was of fine linen, beautifully embroidered with figures of Cherubim, in shades of blue, purple, and scarlet; the second, was of goats' hair; the third, of rams' skin; and the fourth, or outer one, which was to endure the weather, was of a coarser kind, supposed to have been badgers' skin. The eastern side of the Tabernacle, which was the entrance, was only a richly embroidered curtain, suspended from five pillars of Shittim wood. Inside the Tabernacle a veil (of the same kind as that at the eastern end) divided it into two apartments; the outer one of which was called the Holy THE COURT OF THE TABERNACLE. |