FATHER. It must, my boy The victim will require it. There; more stones. We must do quickly. That will do, my Isaac, SON. Me, my father! FATHER. Yes, thee, my son, for so God has commanded; We owe to God. SON. Ah me, my Father! Must I, then, be the lamb for sacrifice? FATHER. Thou must, my son, for so the Lord hath spoken. SON. But then, my father, you have often told me That promise will be broken if you now Should offer me in sacrifice. FATHER. God, my son, Can raise up from these stones children to Abraham Or, if it please him, he can raise up thee After thou hast bowed down in sacrifice, And so fulfil the promise he has spoken. Nor think, my son, if thou art made an offering, That God dishonours thee, or that thy father Him whom he loved before the world began, To give thee up to him, much though I love thee. In making thee a type of his own Son, SON. Oh! my dear father, I have not thy faith. FATHER. Not for the wealth of worlds would I deceive thee. For He, of whom thou now art made the type, Will yield himself as unresistingly As the young lamb when led forth to the slaughter. SON. But death to one so young is awful, father. And then, my mother! How will father meet her Without his son? FATHER. Fear not, my Isaac. Death is the passage to a life immortal For all who fear the Lord. There thou wilt join SON. Oh my God! FATHER. God will be with thee and receive thy spirit. From every one of us. For in him we live, And move, and have our being. Nearest always SON. Oh God, my God, thy holy will be done! FATHER. Amen! in earth as it is done in heaven! And now, my Isaac, (laying him bound on the altar upon the wood, and stretching forth his hand to take the knife) Take thee! The Lord who gave thee But hark! a voice. It is the angel of the Lord calling Abraham, Abraham: and he said, Here am I. And he said, Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou anything unto him for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son from me. A rain caught in a thicket by his horns was now offered in the stead of his son. And the angel of the LORD called unto Abraham out of heaven the second time, and said, By myself have I sworn, saith the LORD, for because thou hast done this thing, and hast not withheld thy son, thine only son; That in blessing I will bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of the heaven, and as the sand which is upon the sea shore; and thy seed shall possess the gate of his enemies; And in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed; because thou hast obeyed my voice. Thus ended this strange eventful story. We may imagine, but we cannot describe the holy joy of the father as he again received as from the dead, in a figure, his beloved son. All the way of that long journey his faith had held the mastery, and even when the dreadful hour arrived; so that natural affection, though often struggling, was kept down; now, however, like a restrained stream which had found a vent, it flowed forth. Clasping Isaac to his bosom, the venerable patriarch wept over him tears of joy. Now they could return to Beer-sheba, to gladden the eyes of the expecting and anxious mother. But ere they descended from that memorable mount, Abraham gave it the name-commemorative, not so much of what he had done, as of what the Lord would do in that place-Jehovah-jireh; that is, the Lord will provide. And God did provide, 2000 years after, in that very spot, a LAMB for sacrifice, of nobler name and richer blood than was ever offered on patriarchal or priestly altars. Thus did Abraham, by his unwavering faith, earn for him. self the distinguished title of Father of the Faithful, among men. A title of distinction higher than even this, and higher far than ever mortal bore, God gave him, when he called him, ABRAHAM MY FRIEND. THE ANGEL'S MISSION. AN angel stood on one of the highest eminences of heaven, when, lo! a voice proclaimed, "Go forth, my servant, down among the dwellers of yonder twinkling sphere, and notice the tribute they offer to the King of Heaven." The angel spread his snowy pinions, and directed his flight to where, on the remotest verge of creation, a dim star faintly glimmered. He passed the shining orbs that roll in dazzling splendour around the throne of God. Beings of majestic form and immortal grace peopled each mighty sphere. Each voice was full of melody, and every eye kindled with the high consciousness of undying bliss. On he sped, till on an orb of shadowy dimness he paused to fold his wings. Ere he entered on the task assigned him, he glanced with eagleken over the scene before hitn. How unlike the glorious scenes of his native abode! He scanned the earth. Vegetation lay blackened and withered, for the frost had fallen upon its beauty. The forest trees had faded from their vernal loveliness, and their discoloured foliage was shed upon the ground, or quivered in the autumn blast. The expanse of ocean next attracted his attention. It lay outstretched in placid loveliness. But suddenly the tempest breathed upon it in its fierceness, and its mountain billows heaved in wild commotion, till the sky and main mingled in the fearful strife. The sky, before so calm, where the stars reposed in glory, that too changed before him, and dark clouds veiled its beauty, while the lightning-flash and thunder-peal kindled and shook the heavens. The strife |