The Children's Tabernacle. A. L. O. E.
Temple was grieved at the ill-temper shown by her eldest daughter, and all the more so as Agnes was in so suffering a state as to make it difficult for a mother to reprove her as she would have done had the girl been in health. The lady had to wait for some time before the cough was quieted enough for her gentle voice to be heard, though Amy had quickly brought a glass of water to help in stopping that cough. When Agnes could breathe freely again, the mother thus addressed her family circle: —
“I should be vexed indeed, my children, if what I proposed as a pleasant and profitable occupation for you all, should become a cause of strife, an occasion for foolish pride and contention. The Tabernacle was in itself a holy thing, made so by the special appointment and presence of the Lord. I would wish the making of its model to be a kind of holy employment, one never to be marred by jealousy and pride. The profits of your labor, if there be any, you mean to devote to helping the poor; therefore I hope that we may consider the work as an offering to the Lord – a very small offering, it is true, but still one which He may deign to accept, if it be made in a lowly, loving spirit; but if selfish, worldly feelings creep in, then good works themselves become evil. The Israelites were expressly forbidden to offer any creature in which there was a blemish or fault, and our offerings are certainly blemished and spoilt if we mix with them jealousy and pride.”
Agnes bit her lip and knitted her brow. She was not without both good sense and good feeling, but she had not yet obtained the mastery over her jealous temper.
“I do not see why Dora should be favored above me,” she murmured.
“Dora is not favored above you,” replied the mother, gravely. “The simple state of the case is this – different talents are given to different persons. You have a good memory, Dora a skilful hand. Were the work in question to be the repeating of a chapter by heart, Dora would never expect to be the one chosen to repeat it. Why should pride make you refuse to own that there are some things in which a younger sister may excel you?”
Agnes hesitated, and glanced at her mother. The girl’s brow was a little clouded still, and yet there were signs that her pride was giving way.
“I leave the decision to your own good sense and feeling, my love,” said Mrs. Temple. “Judge yourself whether, if your desire be to make a really beautiful model worthy of the good object to which we devote it, it would be better to place the embroidery part in Dora’s hands or your own.”
“Let Dora do it,” said Agnes, with a little effort, her eyes filling with tears, for it was hard to her, as it is to most of us, to wrestle down struggling pride.
Mrs. Temple smiled kindly upon her daughter. “One of the most precious lessons which we can learn,” said the mother, “is, in obedience to the command of our Lord, to be willing to be last of all, and servant of all. The sacrifice of our pride and self-will is more pleasing to our Maker than the most costly gifts can be. It is worthy of notice that it was not the outer covering of the Tabernacle, that part which would be seen from every quarter of Israel’s camp, that was most beauteous and precious. The richest curtains were those seen far less often, those that had the lowest place in the building. So our Maker cares far more for what is within than for what is without, and there is no ornament so fair in His eyes as that of a meek and quiet spirit.”
IV.
Precious Things
“I DO not think that the Tabernacle was a grand building, after all,” observed Lucius, “though there is so much written about it in the Bible. Why, it was only about forty-five feet by fifteen – not so large as the chapel at the end of the town, and not for one moment to be compared to the grand cathedral which we all went to see last summer.”
“There is one thing which you perhaps overlook,” said his mother; “when the Tabernacle was raised, the Israelites were a nation of wanderers, and had no fixed habitation. Their Tabernacle was a large, magnificent tent, made to be carried about from place to place by the Levites. Every portion of it was so contrived as to be readily taken to pieces, and then put together again. This could not have been done with a building of very great size.”
“Nobody could carry about the great cathedral, or even the little chapel!” cried Elsie; “but they were never meant to be moved, they are fixed quite firm in the ground.”
“The size of the Tabernacle was indeed not great,” continued Mrs. Temple; “but, besides its being filled with a glory which is never beheld now in any building raised by man, the treasures lavished on it must have given to it a very splendid appearance. It has been calculated that the gold and silver used in making the Tabernacle must alone have amounted in value to the enormous sum of 185,000 pounds!”
Exclamations of surprise were uttered, and Dora remarked – “Why, that would be enough to pay for the building of forty large churches as handsome as the new one which we all admire so much.”
“And the new church holds ten times as many people as the Tabernacle could,” observed Agnes. “I cannot think how a large nation like the Israelites could find space to meet in such a small place, only about twice the size of this room!”
“The Tabernacle was never intended to be to the Israelites what a church is to us,” remarked Mrs. Temple. “In the warm climate of Arabia the people worshipped in the open air, under the blue canopy of the sky; no building to shelter them was required, such as is needful in England. The men of Israel brought their sacrifices to the court of the Tabernacle, where, as you already know, the Altar of burnt-offering and the Laver were placed.”
“But, mamma, what was inside the Tabernacle itself – what was so very carefully kept under those four sets of curtains?” asked Dora.
“The Tabernacle was divided into two rooms by a most magnificent curtain of rich embroidery called the ‘Veil,’” replied Mrs. Temple. “The outer room, which was double the size of the inner, was named the ‘Holy,’ or ‘Sanctuary.’ In this outer room were kept the splendid golden Candlestick with its seven branches, each supporting a lamp which burned all through the night, and the Table of Showbread, on which twelve cakes of unleavened bread were constantly kept – the supply being changed on every Sabbath.”
“Ah! I remember, it was that show-bread which was given to David when he was hungry,” said Lucius, “though it was meant to be eaten only by priests.”
“What other things were in the outer part of the Tabernacle?” asked Agnes.
“There was the Altar of Incense, my love, upon which sweet perfume was daily burned, so that the room was filled with fragrance.”
“You have told us, mamma, what was in the first part of the beautiful Tabernacle; but what was in the very innermost part, the little room beyond the Veil?” asked Amy.
“That little room, about fifteen feet square, was called the ‘Holy of Holies,’ and contained the most precious object of all – the special symbol of the presence of the Most High. That object was the Ark, with its cover of pure gold which was called the ‘Mercy-seat,’ and on which were figures of cherubim, wrought also in gold, with wings outstretched. Over this Mercy-seat, and between the golden cherubim rested the wondrous glory which showed that God was with his people. David, doubtless, referred to this when he wrote in the eighteenth Psalm, ‘Thou that dwellest between the cherubims, shine forth!’”
“And were not precious things laid up in the Ark?” inquired Agnes. “Were not the tables of stone on which the Commandments were written put into it?”
“And the Pot of Manna, kept to remind the people how their fathers were fed in the desert?” said Dora.
“And the wonderful rod of Aaron, that budded, and blossomed, and bore fruit; was not that also in the Ark?” asked Lucius.
“All these most precious and holy things were laid up in the Ark (or as some think in front of the Ark), beneath the golden cherubim,” replied Mrs. Temple.
“Oh, I should have liked above all things to have seen them!” exclaimed little Elsie. “I should have liked to have lifted up the splendid curtain-veil, and to have gone into the Holy of holies – if the light had not been