possible with men was still possible with God. Power and grace could resuscitate a life already gone. Resurrection to life is one of

the acts which God only can perform. He chose to allow nature to die, that He might show His favour to the patriarch by such a resuscitation of life. His grace and power wrought, and Isaac was born in resurrection life. He was the child of the resurrection, and also of grace. As Abraham looked on Isaac he saw the onlybegotten son of that resurrection life with which God had graciously endowed him.

In this new life and relationship we have a type of God and His only-begotten Son Jesus. Isaac and Jesus were sons of a higher life than the natural, and both the offspring of grace. "Your father

Abraham rejoiced to see my day," said Christ to the Jews, "and he saw it, and was glad."

Abraham had many sons, and yet he had an only-begotten one. Jehovah has many sons, but He has One who is styled His onlybegotten Son. In this we see Abraham a type of God and Isaac a type of Christ. Both are sons of divine energy and of grace; and the type appears in its completeness in the patriarch and his son.

The reason is to be found in the purpose of God, who was about to instruct the world in the love which led Him to seek its redemption, the mode by which it should be accomplished, and what that mode involved. The redemption was to be effected by the death of the only-begotten Son Jesus; and Isaac, as an only-begotten son, was a fit person to represent that act proper as a type, not merely on account of the circumstances of his birth, but also because he was a pious, holy, devoted child, submissive to his father and to God.

The accomplishment of human redemption by the death of Jesus manifested the deep love of the heart of God, not for His infinitely worthy Son, but for the unworthy race for whom He was sacrificed. It was the will of God that this love should be manifested. It was His intention to manifest it; and He chose to show it first by a type. He placed Abraham in a position very similar to His own by giving him a son, who, from the circumstances of His birth and his loving submissiveness, had entwined himself round his father's heart. Yet, however deep that father's love for Isaac was, there was something which he loved so much more deeply, that he would sacrifice his beloved Isaac for the purpose of realising it.

But what was required that Abraham might be enabled to fulfil the conditions of this type? It was necessary that he should have strong faith in God: a faith that realises the certainty of the fulfilment of the promises of God whatever may seem to imperil them; a faith that can trust to divine wisdom for the best mode of attaining the object desired. Abraham was told of God's intention to bless the world by him; and God's wisdom first made him the means of instructing the world in what was involved in the sacrifice of an only-begotten Son.

Abraham's faith was the work of God. It was a divine production: the result of fifty years fellowship. In it we see what God can prepare a man to do. What a glorious work Abraham did by that faith! He could not have acted his part in life without faith of the simplest and strongest character. Through this faith he was instructed in the love of God, that purposed the redemption of the world, and that would accomplish it. He went to Moriah to learn a great lesson and to teach a great truth. On the mount he felt the love of God for Jesus in the love he felt for Isaac. There he learnt that God's intensest love for the beloved Jesus would sacrifice its object for a great public good which God willed should be accomplished by it. He learnt this by sacrificing his beloved Isaac at God's command.

On that hill-top he learnt the plan of redemption by sacrifice. God showed him, too, how the victim that should be offered for the world's redemption would be a willing sacrifice. He saw that in the patient, submissive, unresisting Isaac as he lay on the wood. The type seemed to enter without a murmur into his father's acts. son, God will provide himself a lamb," was sufficient for Isaac. Only God could produce such a patient willing type as Isaac was. Isaac's faith is as conspicuous as Abraham's. His trust in God,

My

or in the love and wisdom of his father, or both, was most striking. Thus, by the active faith of the father and the submissive faith of the son, God has enabled us to realise the force and power of that love for the world, and that purpose to bless it, which would sacrifice such an object of love as the Lord Jesus Christ was to His Father, that He might reveal them.

Here was an honour conferred upon Abraham on the divine principle, "He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much."

The production of this same mighty faith, capable of making equally great sacrifices, is the present work of the divine Spirit by Jesus Christ. Truly, the heart capable of such an act is redeemed, and lives in the enjoyment of the purest and most perfect fellowship with God, and enjoys in some way an unspeakable reward.

But Abraham and Isaac, as types of the work of Christ, did not attain perfection here; for the father received his son back again in a figure. When Abraham gave Isaac up by laying him the upon altar, the son was virtually dead to the father. The death would have been actually accomplished had not He who commanded the sacrifice been satisfied with the expression of the patriarch's willing obedience and arrested his hand. The son, so thoroughly and willingly sacrificed, was given back to the father's heart and embrace.

In that figure he saw the resurrection of Christ; he saw that death was not a destruction of life; he saw that the sacrifice was not a loss. It was not ultimately a cause of gloom, but of joy. Whatever of sorrow was associated with the sacrifice, all was dissipated by

the resurrection.

So also the apostles of Jesus found it to be. Sorrow whilst the sacrifice was being consumed and whilst it lay in the grave, was the experience of their hearts; but joy when it rose up into newness of life.

It was important that Abraham should know that his sacrifice was accepted of God. He was not left without that evidence. So it is important that we should know that the offering up of Jesus was accepted. We have this assurance in the rseurrection. Jesus rose again for our justification. By it we can feel unlimited confidence in the love of God. By it we can justify our utmost faith in Christ; the service we render to Him, the crucified One; and our strongest hopes in Him as the Saviour, "able to save to the uttermost all who come to God by him."

Here, then, we learn how great that love was which gathered around the Lord Jesus Christ the meek, holy, submissive, onlybegotten Son; for we can all sympathise with Abraham in his love for Isaac, and, through that, with our heavenly Father in His love for Jesus. And when we have to the utmost of our power taken the measure of that, we can form some faint idea of that greater love which sought by His sacrifice the redemption of a sinful world from perishing, that it might have everlasting life.

Stony Stratford.

THE KITTENS IN THE NEXT YARD.

FOR THE YOUNG.

ONCE upon a time, it matters Now a good cat certainly deserves little when; once upon a time, it a good home, and Madame's home matters little where. At a certain was like herself, perfection. But time, in a certain place, there dwelt you know a good home decidedly a certain cat, and as she was highly includes a good mistress. Madame respectable in her appearance, well- was also blessed with this desirable, conducted in manners, and honest blessing. The mistress, the cat, and in her dealings towards her neigh- the home corresponded each with bours and acquaintances, I intro- the other, forming a trio of perfecduce her to your notice, hoping tions.

your acquaintance with her may But Madame had unfortunately prove pleasant and profitable. Her something very bitter mingled in mistress and her kinsfolk styled her the sweet cup of her life. When Madame Tabitha. I am not pre- we can successfully blend gunpared to say that it was her powder and fire, salt and sugar, real name, neither the name of night and noon, or snow and sumher ancestry. How or why she mer, we may hope to have a palareceived it no one knew. All table preparation of cares and quiet. agreed that it was a very good What was it? you inquire. Don't name for a very good cat, and I be in a hurry, perhaps Madame want you to remember Madame Tabitha will not appreciate my Tabitha. gossip concerning her family secrets.

She had a skeleton in her corner- yard! Heigh-ho! I mean to visit cupboard, very grim, and to her very troublesome.

Madame was the thoughtful parent of a very thoughtless child, the wise mother of a very foolish kitten, and the antics this giddy young charge played upon her parent are beyond description. At the date of my story Madame was plunged in deep despair concerning the welfare of her offspring, for the more she endeavoured to keep this wilful charge under control, the more she contrived to wander. To instil wisdom and thoughtfulness into the mind of Miss Tabitha was merely pouring water through a sieve.

But Madame was still endeavouring to accomplish her very desirable end. "Try, try again," had long been her motto, and had she grown weary in well-doing, her task would have been long ago forsaken in despair. "Hear me, and heed me," said the worthy parent: "I must leave you for a time; my absence may be short, or long. But remember while I am from you that you contrive to amuse yourself at home."

Tabitha junior listened very demurely, but as her worthy mother uttered the last sentence, her grey eyes opened in wonder, as she inquired, "Pray! where should I amuse myself except at home?"

"Remember you remain at home," responded Tabitha senior. "It is the best place for young people. I am always very particular about my children's associations. Goodbye! Remember all I have told you; and upon no consideration venture near the kittens in the next yard."

The heart of Tabitha junior gave a great throb. "Kittens in the next yard! I thought I was the only kitten in the world. I wonder if there is a yard beyond this high stone wall. Kittens in the next

them." Thus Miss Tabitha sat and pondered, and the temptation grew greater, until curiosity and inquisitiveness prevailed; so, glancing around, she mounted lightly upon the old stone wall.

"It is too late to return now," said she. "I may as well see what they are doing. I can easily leave them if I find them vulgar or illbred. Ah! here they come!”—and down she vaulted into the yard, to the surprise of three very disre putable kittens, who regarded her as though she had made a descent from the moon.

"Ah! How do you do, all of you?" she said, bowing becomingly to them. "How do you do?”

"Where have you come from?" inquired one ill-favoured kitten, recovering from her first astonishment.

"From over the wall, to be sure! I have come to see you, as my mother is out Am I welcome?" inquired Miss Tabitha. "Oh, yes: we have many friends; but have you nice times over the wall?

"Beautiful," answered Miss Tabitha, "all that my heart could wish."

"Indeed!" sneered another, "then, pray, what may you eat?" "Scraps, and bones, and milk," said Miss Tabitha, rather proudly.

"Scraps, and bones, and milk!" cried the kittens in a chorus, "we would not touch such things.

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'Pray, what do you eat?" "Fowls, and meats, and creams. Anything good."

Fowls, and meats, and creams!" echoed Miss Tabitha, with a longing heart. "How may you get them?"

"How! why we march to the larder and help ourselves, to be sure."

"How very shocking, to be sure!" sighed Miss Tabitha, all her hopes of feasting vanishing

as she spoke. "Mother always and mistress caught me.
says no respectable cat can steal," dear!"
and so bidding them good morrow,
she hastened her return, with visions
of fowls, and meats, and creams
rising vividly before her.

The larder door stood ajar as she passed. She had never seen it before, but she was sure this must be the place. How very inviting it appeared! "I may just as well look," and as she peered in she saw all her visions realised. "I may just as well taste," and so she pounced upon the shelf. "No one is coming. How beautiful all appears, I don't like scraps," and Miss Tabitha's heart stood still as she seized a fine chicken and made for the door. But, sad to relate, and still sadder to experience, ere she reached it there came down a heavy blow upon her head, causing her to fly in terror and pain. As she rushed along, mewing in her grief, she met her parent at the door, comfortably returning from her visit.

"What now?" cried Madame, in astonishment. "What now? "Oh, dear, dear," cried the unfortunate one, I didn't like scraps, I didn't; and I went to the larder,

Oh, dear,

"Didn't like scraps!' echoed Madame. "Who said you didn't like scraps? and who told you of the larder?"

"The kittens in the next yard," sobbed Miss Tabitha.

"The kittens in the next yard?" cried the mother. "Alas! how true it is that evil communications corrupt good manners.

We meet Miss Tabitha everywhere. Children very wise in their own conceit, children who always inquire why and wherefore, rather than perform their parents' wishes; why and wherefore, when prompted by rebellion, are very disreputable kittens; their parents are, I Don't Care and I Know Better; they reside just over the wall, but we must have nothing to do with them. Children, obey your parents. Not because a birch-rod is always attending your footsteps, but because it is right, and if temptation comes to you as bright and as playful as a butterfly, have nothing to do with it; keep within the wall of filial duty: love home, and honour your parents, that God may bless you,

MY DREAM OF THE ANGEL OF PATIENCE.

I THOUGHT I stood upon a vast plain, watching the course of one who, like Bunyan's pilgrim of old, was journeying towards the Celestial City. But his progress was slow and toilsome, and, though striving to walk faithfully in the strait and narrow way that leads to life eternal, he seemed ready to yield to discouragement at the many obstacles in his path. I could not doubt that the pilgrim was in earnest, for he often lifted his eyes above, as if seeking help and guidance, and, looking back to the commencement of his journey, I could see his burden of sin rolled away and left at the foot of a cross.

Faith had enabled him to believe in and accept the crucified Saviour; hope gave him a bright assurance of blessedness to come; charity had filled his bosom with love and good-will to all; humility taught him to be meek and lowly in spirit; self-denial made him happy in foregoing a life of ease and luxury to follow in the steps of his divine Master;