CHAPTER VIII.

Far different to the scenes we have just described were those which Naomi was called to witness; and had not her mind been harassed with anxiety for her beloved parents and her young friend Claudia, she would have considered the days which she passed with her relatives, in their beautiful country residence, as the happiest of her life. It was not that the scenery around her was lovely, and the air was fresh and pure, in the elevated spot on which the house was situated; nor was it because Amaziah and Judith had always loved her as a daughter, and now treated her with the most affectionate kindness, that Naomi felt it was a blessed privilege to be under their peaceful roof. On the first evening of her arrival with her relatives at their country-house, Judith had proposed to her that they should walk to Bethany; and to the surprise of Naomi, they no sooner entered the village than her aunt proceeded to the cottage where Mary dwelt.

The aged Christian was alone; but solitude was not sad to her, for the bright prospects of futurity, and the blessed remembrances of the past, shed a heavenly light over her lonely and humble abode. She rose to meet her visitors with a smile of cheerful welcome; and Naomi was startled and almost terrified when she saluted her, in the hearing of her aunt, with her accustomed benediction, "The blessing of our Lord and Saviour be upon you, my child."

Judith saw what was passing in her mind, and hastened to remove her apprehensions. She took her hand, and said, "I have brought you here, my dear Naomi, that in the presence of our venerable friend I may acknowledge to you that I also am an unworthy disciple of that Lord and Saviour whose name you have been taught to worship. She who has been the blessed instrument of bringing you to the knowledge of the truth, was also the means of removing the dark cloud of error and prejudice that hung over my mind and that of Amaziah. Many years have elapsed since the happy change took place; but our safety required that it should be kept secret; and as so much of our time has been passed in the country, our renunciation of the religion of our forefathers was not discovered. Often have I wished and prayed that the time might come when I could be permitted to instruct you, Naomi, in the truths of Christianity; but I felt that I should be abusing the confidence reposed in me by your parents if I attempted to do so without their knowledge and consent. The very strong prejudice which your excellent father entertains against the disciples of Jesus, made it hopeless for me to expect that consent; and I could only offer up my fervent prayers, that in his own good time the Lord would call you to the knowledge of himself. My prayers have been answered, and you may imagine my feelings of joy and gratitude when Mary informed me that you had confessed your sincere faith in the Son of God."

Naomi's astonishment was only equalled by her delight at finding that her beloved relatives were also united to her in the bonds of one faith, and one hope in Christ.

"Now," she exclaimed, "I shall feel that I am not alone and divided from all I love on earth. Oh that my father and my mother, and my poor misguided brother would also believe in the Redeemer, and find that rest to their souls which I never knew, until I was convinced that in him my sins were blotted out, and that by his death my salvation was purchased. And all this I owe to you, my excellent—my beloved teacher. I saw that amid poverty, and persecution, and infirmity, you were happier than the wealthiest, the proudest of the self-righteous Jews with whom I was acquainted; and I felt sure that nothing but a true faith could produce the heavenly calm that reigned over your soul. And when I heard of the love and pity, the wisdom and power of Him in whom you put your trust, I could no longer wonder at your joy and peace; and thankfully I acknowledge, that, in a humble degree, the same faith and the same hope now animate my soul."

Long and interesting was the conversation of these Christian friends; and Judith informed her niece of the particulars of her own and her husband's conversion to Christianity, and their admission by baptism into the church of Christ at Jerusalem. Theophilus had also sincerely embraced the same religion, and had received the sacred rite several years since. Naomi was surprised to find how numerous had been the company of Christians in Jerusalem; until the period when James, the brother of the Lord, and the first bishop of that city, was murdered.

"Since that unhappy event, which you, Naomi, must well remember," added Judith, "the church has been dispersed and persecuted; and those of its members who have remained in Jerusalem have feared to appear so openly as they ventured to do during the life of that upright and excellent man."

"I do remember his death," replied Naomi, "and I also well remember my father's indignation at the cruel manner in which he was slain. Though he looked upon James the Just as a mistaken and deluded man, and despised his religion, yet I have often heard both him and his friends say that he well deserved the title which was bestowed on him of 'the fortress of the people,' for that he commanded the love and admiration of the whole city, from his divine temper, and his meekness and humility. My father even once declared, since the troubles of our nation commenced, that he considered the barbarous murder of that righteous and venerable man as a principal means of bringing the wrath and the chastisements of God upon the city. He was present when James was led to the top of the temple-wall, and placed there in sight of the collected multitude below, in the hope that he would declare to them his conviction that Jesus of Nazareth was not the long-promised Messiah; and he shared in the general disappointment when, instead of doing as was expected, the venerable saint lifted up his voice, and loudly proclaimed that Jesus was the Son of God. But my father did not join in the cry to hurl him from the wall—he would have saved his life, if possible; but the infuriated populace cast him down the precipice. I have seen the tears in Zadok's eyes, when he has described to us the old man rising on his knees after the fall, in which he miraculously escaped being killed, and with uplifted hands praying for mercy on his persecutors. Oh! how hard must have been the hearts of those who could behold him thus, and not be moved to pity, but stoned him as he knelt! If he were living now, with what different feelings should I regard him from those which I entertained when, as a child, I learned to call him Nazarene, as a term of reproach, though even then I never saw his holy countenance without an emotion of awe and veneration!"

"His presence was indeed a blessing, and his death a calamity, both to Christians and to Jews," replied Judith. "He was the only one of the sacred band of apostles whom I ever knew, though I remember to have seen several of them during my youth, before they were dispersed and scattered into distant nations, when Herod stretched forth his hands to vex the church. Mary has been more highly blessed, for she was acquainted with all those chosen men, and still more blessed was she in being permitted to enjoy the presence and share the friendship of the Saviour himself."

"Yes," paid Mary, "my eyes have seen those things which many prophets and kings have desired to see, and have not seen—I have seen the Lord Jesus in his human nature, and in his humility: and now all the desire of my heart is to behold the King in his beauty, and see him on the throne of his father David. When he comes in his majesty every eye shall see him, and all shall equally confess that he is the Son of God. But oh! how will those regard him then who have rejected him in his low estate? And how will they stand before his throne of judgment who have despised his offers of mercy?"

"Is it the belief of the Christians," asked Naomi, "that the Messiah will speedily return in his glory?"

"The church looks for his coming," replied Mary, "both speedily and suddenly. Some of our brethren even expect his appearance during the life of his only remaining apostle John. But this arises from their misunderstanding the words of the Lord to Peter, when, after the resurrection of his Master, that disciple inquired of him what should be the fate of the beloved John. 'If I will that he tarry till I come,' said Jesus, 'what is that to thee?' And therefore a saying went abroad that John should not die until the Lord came again. But he himself did not so understand it: and he is now at Ephesus, anxiously awaiting the hour when he shall be summoned by death into the presence of that Lord whom on earth he loved so devotedly."

"And is John still living, then?" exclaimed Naomi. "I supposed that none remained on earth who had seen the Saviour, except you, Mary."

"Yes, the highly-favoured and divine apostle John is still alive, though of a great age. He governs the churches in Asia, and edifies the believers in every nation by his pious and holy writings, which all breathe the same spirit of Christian love and tenderness that shines so brightly in his own life and character. But John was not always the angelic being that I have described him to you. I knew him in his youth, ere the voice of Jesus had called him to be his disciple; and then both he and his brother James were impetuous and fiery of temper. It was the love of Jesus that changed his heart, and made him what he is. His Master's character was reflected in that of the disciple whom Jesus loved."

"Surely the same effect will, in some measure, be observed in every one who contemplates the graces that were displayed in the life of the blessed Redeemer," observed Judith. "We cannot look on him with our bodily eyes, but by faith we may behold him; and the more we love him the more we shall strive to be like him. Already, my dearest Naomi, I perceive something of this change in you. Your countenance no longer expresses the same pride and self-confidence that I have always lamented in your character; and your manner is meek and gentle, like that of one who has renounced all human pride and human dependence, and consented to learn of Him who was meek and lowly of heart: and oh, may you thus find rest unto your soul—that rest which He has promised, and that peace which He alone can give. I would not wish, my child, to take from you one spark of the enthusiasm that is now directed to so noble an object, or to weaken that firmness and resolution which have always marked your disposition, and may one day be called for to enable you to bear the trials and sufferings of life. By God's grace these qualities will now be properly guided and controlled, and we shall see you, through good report and evil report, through persecutions and afflictions, or in the more dangerous trials of prosperity, exhibiting that singleness of heart and courageous determination to honour your Master's name that should always characterize his true disciples. Alas! that some should so sadly have fallen short of this resolution and courage, even among his earliest and most privileged disciples!"

"It is because I now feel the sinfulness of my own heart that I am not the proud creature I used to be," replied Naomi. "When I consider the purity and holiness of my Redeemer's life, and compare my own corrupt inclinations, and evil thoughts and actions, with his faultless character, surely I must feel humbled in the dust. But when I remember that that divine Being shed his blood to wash away my sins, can I fear any sufferings, any trials, by which I may prove my love and gratitude? Oh! sometimes," she continued, clasping her hands fervently, while her eyes sparkled through tears of enthusiastic emotion,—"sometimes I envy the apostles, and the blessed martyr Stephen, and all those holy Christians who have already been called to shed their blood in confirmation of their faith!"

"Trust not, my beloved Naomi, to your present ardent feelings," interrupted Mary, in a gentle voice, "nor suffer yourself to be too confident in the firmness of your faith. I pray God that you maybe endued with strength by his Spirit, to carry you triumphantly through every trial that he deems fit to send upon you; but I covet neither for you nor for myself the sore temptations to which some of our brethren have already been exposed. Remember how Peter, the brave, the lion-hearted Peter, failed in the hour of danger, because he trusted in his own strength and boasted of his own courage."

"Oh yes, I do remember that sad event," replied the young Christian, somewhat abashed at the mild reproof of Mary. "That denial of Peter, and the desertion of their Master by all his disciples at the last, have always been a source of astonishment to me. I have frequently heard it related by my father, and the rabbis who frequent his house, as a strong argument against the truth of the Christian doctrines, and the belief of the disciples in the divinity of their Master. And even when I considered Jesus of Nazareth as merely a human teacher, and perhaps also as an impostor, I still wondered that those who had dwelt with him, and followed him, and professed to believe in him, should forsake him in his hour of sorrow and suffering."

"It is indeed a humbling proof of the weakness and depravity and selfishness of the human heart," answered Mary; "and for this reason it has been faithfully recorded by some of the apostles themselves, as you have seen in the precious copy which I possess of the life of Jesus Christ, written by Matthew the publican. At the time of the Redeemer's death the Holy Spirit of God had not descended upon his disciples, and without the aid of that Spirit none can hope to stand in the time of trial. All must be born again, as our Lord himself informed Nicodemus, or they cannot enter the kingdom of God—they cannot belong to Christ on earth, or dwell with him in heaven. But when the apostles were endued with power from on high, according to the promise of their Master, then they were enabled to declare the truth with boldness, and to endure a great fight of afflictions, and at last to receive the crown of martyrdom, and enter into their rest with songs of rejoicing. In the strength of the same Spirit which supported them can we alone hope to stand, and for that Spirit let us unceasingly pray."

"But, Mary," asked Naomi, "can we expect that the Holy Spirit will descend visibly upon us, as you have told me it did upon the apostles, and give us power to work miracles, and speak with tongues as they did? Neither you nor Judith possess those gifts, and yet I feel sure that you are the true disciples of Jesus."

"No, my daughter, those gifts are now very rare; for as the Gospel of Christ has spread already over so great a part of the world, and many of almost all nations have been converted, the gift of tongues is no longer necessary. And doubtless also, the miracles that were worked so abundantly by our Lord and his first disciples, were intended in a great measure to prove that Jesus was the Son of God, and possessed the power of God, and that his disciples were his true servants and his authorized witnesses. Those miracles cannot now be denied; they were seen by multitudes, and have been recorded by eye-witnesses, who have moreover sealed the truth of their declarations with their blood; and therefore the proof which they convey will remain to all ages, and needs not to be renewed by fresh manifestations of Divine power. The Holy Spirit now no longer descends in a visible manner, but his influence may be clearly discerned in the heart, by increasing love to God and to his Holy Son Jesus, and greater zeal in his service."

"Then may I hope," asked Naomi, "that the Lord has sent his Spirit into my heart? It u still full of evil; and every day I see that evil more clearly, and lament it more deeply; but then I also hope that I love the Lord Jesus more and more, and feel more desirous to do his will and walk in his steps."

"The feelings you describe," replied Mary, "and which I believe to be sincere, are the best proof of the presence of God's Spirit in your heart. May he ever abide with you, and strengthen you day by day for the service of the Lord, until you enter into that world where God has prepared such joys as eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man to conceive, but which shall be the portion of all those who love Him."

Naomi was moved at the affectionate earnestness of her aged friend; she silently embraced her, and as Judith now rose to depart she followed her from the cottage. The sun was setting as they left the village, and they hastened forward while the short twilight of an eastern climate yet remained to guide them. Their way led through groves and orchards and rocky ravines, and they regretted that they had been induced to remain so long at Bethany, for though this part of the country had hitherto been undisturbed by the bands of robbers who infested the more distant regions, yet Judith and her young companion felt alarmed at finding themselves alone, so far from home, and in the rapidly increasing darkness. They had entered a thick grove of olive-trees, and were with some difficulty tracing the narrow path that led through it, when they were startled by perceiving several lights at some distance before them, and evidently approaching towards the spot where they stood. Hastily they concealed themselves among the thickest branches of the dark olive-trees, and waited in trembling anxiety until the dreaded party should pass. The lights came nearer and nearer, and those who carried them raised loud and frequent shouts, which added to the terror of Judith, until Naomi, whose eye and ear were quicker, and whose presence of mind was greater, started from her hiding-place and exclaimed, "It is Amaziah's voice! and now I see his tall figure advancing through the bushes. No doubt he has come to meet us."

"True, my child," replied Judith; "I ought first to have recognised his voice and suspected his anxious care. Let us hasten to relieve his mind of all fears on our Account."

Amaziah was well pleased to see his wife and Naomi in safety. Their long absence had alarmed him, and the accounts which had reached him that day of the unsettled state of the neighbourhood, made him apprehend that danger might lurk even among the groves of Bethany, and within sight of his own dwelling. He desired that henceforth Judith and her niece should confine their rambles to the immediate vicinity of the house unless he was able to accompany them; and knowing how greatly they would both regret being deprived of the society of Mary, he kindly proposed to send a letter the following day to bring her to their own residence, where she could remain until they returned to the city.

This plan was put into execution, and on the morrow their venerable friend was established under their roof. For many years Mary had not left her humble dwelling, to which she was fondly attached. It was but a portion of the house in which she and her sister and Lazarus had been wont to receive the visits of the Redeemer, that now remained in her possession; for poverty, and a desire for obscurity, had led her to relinquish the greater part of the range of low buildings that surrounded the courtyard, and to retain only two small apartments that opened into a narrow and unfrequented street. But the spot was dear to her heart, and she hoped to live and die in that once happy home. She had therefore hitherto declined all the requests of Amaziah and Judith that she would spend the remainder of her days with them; and it was only the hope of being useful to the young convert that now induced her to leave her obscure abode to spend some days in the spacious and beautiful villa of her Christian friends.

"What are these marble pavements and rich furniture to me," she observed one day to Naomi, "compared with the ground on which my Saviour has stood, and the seat on which he rested while I sat at his feet and listened to his words?—and what are these lofty pillars and gilded ceilings, compared with the rocky cave where once I saw him stand and call my dead brother to life with a voice of almighty power? Nothing but the consciousness that I have been permitted to assist you, my child, in the path towards eternal life, and the hope of being yet serviceable to you, could have drawn me from my beloved retreat even for a few days."

"Have you then dwelt entirely at Bethany ever since your brother was restored to life?" asked Naomi.

"Yes: both during the years that were added to his mortal life, and since he descended a second time to the grave, it has been my constant and my cherished home. For some time after my brother's resurrection we suffered much persecution and much alarm on his account. The chief priests and the Pharisees saw how many of the people believed in Jesus after he had performed that astonishing miracle; and as they could not deny the fact that Lazarus had been dead and was alive again; they sought to kill him, that by his presence and his words he might no longer bear witness to the power of the Son of God."

"Could they suppose," exclaimed Naomi, "that He who had exerted that power to restore your brother to life, would suffer his work of love and mercy to be frustrated by their malice? Oh! how could they themselves refuse to believe in Him, when so undeniable a proof of his Godhead was before their eyes!"

"Pride and ambition and self-righteousness blinded their eyes," replied Mary. "They looked for a triumphant, kingly Messiah; and they would not receive the meek and lowly Jesus, who had not even where to lay his head, and who chose his own immediate attendants not from among the learned, or the rich, or the holy in their own eyes, but from among humble fishermen, and the yet more despised class of publicans."

"It was the belief that Christ would appear in his glory at his first advent," replied Naomi, "that so long prevented me from fully comprehending that Jesus was indeed the Messiah spoken of by all the prophets; and it is the same error that causes my father and all his pious but mistaken friends to regard the Christians as deluded fanatics. Our people are accustomed to consider only those prophecies that speak of the glory and victory of Christ, and the restoration and happiness of our nation; and all those passages which you have pointed out to me, as so wonderfully describing the humility, and sufferings, and death of Jesus, are disregarded, or supposed to relate to some other person. It now appears unaccountable to me, how I could so often, in former days, have read the book of the prophet Isaiah, and yet have doubted who was spoken of as the 'Man of Sorrows, and acquainted with grief.' Truly was he 'despised and rejected of men,' and truly have the Jews 'hid their faces from him.' Oh, when will the time come that the report of the prophets and apostles shall be believed among God's chosen people, and the arm of the Lord revealed to that nation who are called by his name!"

"It is not for us to know the times or the seasons which God hath put in his own power; but most clearly are we told by the mouths of the prophets that God has mercy yet in store for his people, and that at the end of the days they shall again be restored to greater power and greater happiness than they have ever yet enjoyed; and then will Messiah return the second time in glory, and then will all the majestic prophecies relating to his reign be accomplished. But ere that blessed time arrives our Lord himself has told us that there shall be wars and rumours of wars, and great tribulations and sorrows, such as never have been yet on the earth: but he has also told us that he that endures unto the end, the same shall be saved."

"And do you believe, Mary, that those days of tribulation are now coming on the earth, and that the Messiah will shortly appear again in glory?"

"I believe, my child, that heavy judgments are about to be inflicted on the daughter of Zion, and that those only will escape who put their trust in the Lord Jesus. It was his own command that his disciples should not remain in Jerusalem when they saw these things begin to come to pass; and at the commencement of the war he revealed to some of his devoted servants that the days of sorrow were coming, and that they must flee for refuge to the city of Pella, on the other side of the river Jordan before the city is encompassed with armies. Many of the Christians have already removed thither, and all my most valued friends, except Amaziah and Judith, are among the number. My age and obscurity and poverty have hitherto protected me from danger and from insult; and until I find that it is no longer safe to remain at Bethany I am unwilling to leave my home. My days on earth cannot be many, and if it is the will of the Lord, I would wish to end them where I have dwelt so long; but I must not presumptuously remain in danger, from which my Lord and Master has warned me to flee; and, therefore, when I find my present abode insecure, I shall, with God's permission, follow my brethren to Pella. Doubtless Amaziah and Judith will remove thither in due time, and they will permit me to accompany them. Would to God that you and your whole family could be persuaded to do the same, Naomi, and thus escape destruction."

"My father will never leave Jerusalem while one stone stands upon another. With his feelings and his belief, I cannot wonder at it; and my mother would not be separated from him to escape the greatest sufferings or avoid the greatest dangers. Do not, then, blame me, dear Mary, if I resolve to remain at all hazards with my parents. If distresses come upon them, I can be a comfort to them; if death be their portion, I can close their eyes and shed tears over their remains. And if I fall myself, death is no longer terrible to me. I know in whom I believe; and I would not wish to survive my family, and witness the desolation of our beloved, our beautiful city."

"I have no doubt, my dear Naomi, that the Lord will make your duty clear to you when the time for decision arrives. At present I would have you remain with your natural protectors, and seek by prayer, and by every other means in your power, to promote their happiness both spiritual and temporal. But you must not throw away your life: the Lord has called you to himself, and has given you grace to believe in him to the saving of your soul, and you must in return devote yourself to him in spirit, soul, and body, and be willing to serve him on earth so long, and in such a manner as he in his wisdom shall appoint. It is indeed a blessed change, when the believer falls asleep, and his spirit wings its way unfettered to the presence of his Saviour and his God: but we must wait his time, and bless him for every day in which we can glorify him and serve our fellow creatures."

"That is true, Mary, and yet I often wish to die; and I have thought, while reflecting on your brother's being recalled to life, that it would have been better for him to have remained in the grave. His spirit must have been blest, for he was the friend of Jesus; and it seems sad for him to return to this cold world again, and mix in its cares and its troubles, and even to dwell in it so many years after the light of the Saviour's countenance was removed."

"Your feeling is perhaps a natural one," replied Mary, "but Lazarus never murmured at his rest being delayed a few short years. He was thankful to be restored to us, and to be allowed again to be our comfort and our joy; and he was thankful to be permitted to be a witness of his Master's power, and to have the privilege of so greatly adding to the number of his disciples. When again his time was fully come, most joyfully did he resign his spirit into the hands of his beloved Master; and then did I and my sister Martha once again weep over his grave: but, oh! how different were our feelings then, from those which harrowed our souls at his first departure from us. When the second time he expired, which occurred only seven years ago, we would not have recalled him to life if we could have done so; for then we knew that his ransomed spirit had fled to the presence of his Saviour, and there we hoped ere long to rejoin him. Martha followed him very shortly, and I remained alone. I have had many Christian friends, and many consolations and blessings, but nothing could restore the earthly happiness I once enjoyed. My heart is now in heaven, where my treasure is; and there, through God's mercy in Jesus Christ, I trust I shall soon meet those who have passed through the valley of the shadow of death before me."

The conversation was interrupted by a summons for Naomi to join her uncle and aunt, who were about to set forth on their return to Jerusalem; and Mary also took leave of them, and proceeded with an attendant towards her native village. Amaziah and his party had not gone far on their way, when, as we have already related, Theophilus met them with the dreadful tidings of the arrival of the Idumeans, and they hastened back to their secluded dwelling. The safety of Mary was immediately thought of, and a messenger was dispatched in pursuit of her. She had not reached Bethany when he overtook her; and before Amaziah and his son left their home and returned to Jerusalem, their aged and revered friend was again safely lodged under their roof. The house was situated in a commanding position, and being strongly built, and partially fortified since the recent disturbances, it was looked upon as a place of sufficient security until Amaziah could take further measures for the removal of his family, either to his dwelling in the city, or, if necessary, to Pella.

The events of that dreadful night and the succeeding days have been already recorded; and when Amaziah returned from the bloody city to his quiet home in the mountains, he could hardly believe that such scenes were yet going forward within so short a distance from the peaceful spot. But he could not conceal from himself, that however tranquil all appeared around them, their present abode was no longer a secure one, and he proceeded with the greatest dispatch to make the needful preparations for removing to Pella. Naomi was greatly shocked and distressed at the account which her uncle brought of the state of her family, and of her father's severe wounds, and consequent illness. She would instantly have hastened to rejoin them, and lend her aid in nursing and cheering her beloved parents and her friend Claudia, but it was quite impossible for her to enter the city under the present circumstances; and Amaziah also brought her a letter from Salome, in which she was desired by her parents to continue under the protection of her uncle, and to accompany him to whatever place he might find it desirable to make his temporary residence.

Amaziah declared his intention of retiring to Pella, as the refuge pointed out by express revelation, where the people of the Lord should hide themselves until this tyranny should be overpast; and though Naomi would gladly have encountered danger and suffering to be again with her father and mother, she could not but rejoice in the prospect of spending some weeks in the company of a society of Christians, where she might observe their manners and share their worship, and even be admitted by baptism among the members of the true church. The removal to Pella was soon effected; and Mary consented to accompany her friends, in the hope that when the Idumean army had departed and the present violent disturbances were quelled, she might be permitted again to return to Bethany and end her days.

During the whole of the winter the civil war raged in Jerusalem with unabated violence, and it was impossible for Naomi to rejoin her family. Occasionally Theophilus contrived to send intelligence to Pella of the proceedings in the city; and by his messengers Naomi received long and affectionate letters from her parents and Claudia, and enjoyed the satisfaction of knowing that her father's health was restored, and that he and his family were safe and unmolested. How long their security might last was very uncertain, as the robbers and assassins became daily more powerful and more insatiable, notwithstanding the efforts of the other party; and Naomi trembled for her friends. Her fervent prayers were joined to those of her Christian brethren for the preservation of those so dear to her, amid the destruction that threatened them; and still more fervently did she pray that they might be brought to the knowledge of the Gospel, and preserved from the far more terrible destruction which she believed was yet to come upon her nation, and to swallow up all who wilfully despised the grace of God in Jesus Christ.

Every day did that grace become more precious to her, and her faith become more lively and more deep. The beautiful and simple forms of worship that were observed by the Christians powerfully affected her heart. In the meetings of this holy band all was calm and peaceful: tears of deep devotion and unaffected humility stole silently down the cheeks of many a once hardened sinner, and many a young and ardent convert, as they knelt together in their unadorned sanctuary, and joined in the prayers and confessions which were pronounced by the elders of the community. Meekly they bowed their knees; but there were no prostrations on the earth, no outward gestures or vehement excitement; and their prayers were offered up with the devotion of creatures before their Creator, the love of ransomed sinners before their Redeemer, and the confidence of children before a Father, who has promised, that wheresoever two or three are gathered together in his name, there will He be in the midst of them. Those who had witnessed the imposing magnificence of the temple-service, and beheld the thronging multitudes, the glittering gold and jewelled dresses of the priests, the costly sacrifices, the clouds of incense, the marble pavements and splendid altars, and listened to the brazen trumpets and united voices of the choristers, that were ordained to impress the senses, and fix the attention of the Jews, might have smiled at the simplicity of this little church in the wilderness. Frequently they held their meetings in the silence and the obscurity of night, and selected some neighbouring glen or rocky recess in the mountains as their place of worship. There, undisturbed by the Jews who dwelt in Pella, they united their voices in hymns of prayer and praise, while the caverns re-echoed the loud "Amen," and repeated the joyful "Hallelujahs" of these poor and exiled brethren. Naomi's soul was lifted up with gratitude and devotion; and she felt that this was an offering and a sacrifice more worthy of the Redeemer, and more acceptable to him than all the blood of bulls and goats, that were only a type of his own complete and all-atoning sacrifice. She ardently desired to be received into the Christian church by baptism, and allowed to partake in the holy communion of the body and blood of Christ; and when she was considered to be duly instructed in the doctrines of her newly-adopted religion, and had satisfied the catechists and elders that her faith was sincere and her conduct consistent, the ceremony was performed with the same pious simplicity that distinguished all the outward manners and customs of the primitive Christians. Naomi rejoiced in being permitted thus to make an open profession of her faith, and of her firm resolution, by the grace of God and the help of his Spirit, to "renounce the devil and all his works, powers, and service," and "the world, and all its pomps and pleasures." Her mind was fully made up as to her future line of conduct; and much as she dreaded her father's displeasure, she was determined, on her return to Jerusalem, to confess to him her conversion to Christianity, and her firm resolve to live according to the dictates of that religion, and no longer to conform to the rites and ceremonies of Judaism. She knew his violent prejudices against the religion of the Nazarenes; and she knew how grieved and disappointed both he and her mother would be when they found that she had renounced the way of her fathers, and adopted the faith which they so greatly despised. But then she trusted to her Saviour to support her under all trials, and carry her through all temptations which were incurred for his name's sake; and she felt that she could not without hypocrisy any longer conceal her true belief, or appear to take part in the Jewish rites and customs, that were so strictly observed in her father's house. She hoped also that Zadok's fond affection for her would prevent him from using any harsh measures; and she knew that her mother's gentle and forgiving temper would not long cherish anger towards her; but that she would use all her influence with her husband, to soften his heart towards his beloved and hitherto dutiful and obedient daughter. Therefore she checked her fears and her anxieties, and strove to derive all the benefit that was possible from the intercourse of the pious company, with whom she was so unexpectedly and so happily permitted to dwell.

The privilege of attending the Holy Eucharist, or Supper of the Lord, was allowed to the young Christian after her baptism; and she frequently and thankfully partook of it, to the strengthening and refreshing of her soul. In those early days this sacrament was administered to baptized believers on every Lord's day, and also on many other occasions. In some churches it was celebrated four times a week; and it is even recorded, that while (in the words of St. Chrysostom) "the spirit of Christianity was yet warm and vigorous, and the hearts of men passionately inflamed with the love of Christ," they communicated every day; and found themselves stronger and healthier, and more able to encounter the fierce oppositions that were made against them, the oftener they fed at the table of their crucified Saviour. Would to God that the same love of Christ now animated the hearts of all who have been admitted as members of his visible church! We should not then see his table neglected, and his command disregarded, as now we do; and the same blessed results might be expected. We, like our holy fathers in the faith, should become "strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might;" we should indeed "eat his flesh and drink his blood," and find it to be "the food that nourishes to salvation."

The manner of celebrating the holy sacrament in the first days of the church differed very much from that which we are accustomed to see, as a banquet or supper usually preceded the administration of the consecrated elements. These repasts were called Agapæ, or Love-feasts; and there rich and poor met together as equals, and partook in common of the food which was provided from the oblations and gifts of the communicants, which were always bestowed, according to their respective ability, for this purpose, and for the relief of the poor.

In her intercourse with the Christians, Naomi could not but observe and admire the sobriety which marked their apparel, the temperance which they observed in regard to their food, and the modesty and simplicity that reigned in their whole deportment. They were governed by the rule of the apostle, who directed his converts, "having food and raiment, therewith to be content;" and while they avoided singularity and affectation, they were careful to fall into no excess, and indulge in no vanity or worldly pleasures. Naomi contrasted the jewelled tiaras, the embroidered shawls, the silken robes and sashes fringed with pearls, the massive and highly-wrought armlets and bracelets, the golden clasps, and all the other dazzling ornaments and glowing colours that then distinguished the attire of the wealthy Jews, with the plain and sober garb of her new associates; and she felt how much more suitable was the appearance of the Christians to the condition of those who are but "strangers and pilgrims on the earth," and profess to seek a home in heaven. All her own ornaments, with which the indulgence of her father had liberally supplied her, were laid aside; and she would have disposed of them all, and given the product to her needy brethren, had not Judith reminded her, that as the gifts of Zadok, she had no right to part with them without his consent; and especially for the relief of those who were in his judgment unworthy of the air they breathed, and not to be approached by a faithful son of Abraham without contamination.

Bethlehem