“Ah, my boy! poor and mean indeed must any earthly type appear when compared to the heavenly Antitype!” exclaimed Mrs. Temple. “That thought came strongly to my mind as I was sewing together these little worthless glass beads to form the model of the glorious breastplate. ‘Can these wretched little atoms of colored glass,’ I said to myself, ‘give any idea of magnificent jewels, sparkling in light, set in gold, and each engraved with a name?’ But even so mean, and small, and insignificant was Aaron, in all his splendor, compared to the sacred Being who deigns to call Himself our High-Priest, and to make intercession for us above!”
All the party were silent for several moments, looking down at the little model, and thinking over the words of their mother. Elsie then pointed to the curious head-dress which appeared on the figure. It was not exactly a turban, though it was formed of tight rolls of linen. It had the representation of a plate of gold in front, fastened on to it by a blue thread.
“That head-dress is called the high-priest’s bonnet or mitre,” observed Mrs. Temple. “There are rather different opinions regarding its exact shape. It cost me a good deal of thought to contrive it, and here again I felt how impossible it is to give anything like a just idea of the real object in a model so small as this. You see that I have not neglected to put a little gold plate on the front of the mitre; but I had no power to form letters so minute as to represent on it what was engraved on that which the high-priest wore. This was ‘Holiness to the Lord.’”
“Then the high-priest had the Lord’s Name written over his brow,” observed Agnes. “It makes one think of the promise in the Bible, that saints in heaven shall have His Name written on their foreheads.” (Rev. xxii. 4.)
“All will be ‘Holiness to the Lord’ in that happy place!” observed Amy.
It was pleasanter to Dora to examine the little model before her, and to admire and praise her mother’s skill, than to think of what was inscribed on the mitre worn by Aaron and his successors. It is the sad, sad effect of sin concealed in the heart, that it keeps those who indulge it from daring even to wish to be holy.
The Tabernacle was now carefully taken down, piece by piece, to be packed in a box, ready to be carried along with the rest of their luggage when the family should quit their home for awhile. Every curtain was neatly folded, and all the pillars carefully wrapped up in paper. The figure representing the high-priest was gently put back into its own little box, and all the other little objects were packed in cotton, so as to bear without injury a little jolting on the journey before them.
With additional pleasure the young Temples now looked forward to the coming Christmas season, and the long-expected visit which they were to pay to their Aunt Theodora.
