ever, when men could be numbered only by the score, it was manifestly impossible for religion to exhibit the "effects" which it does in the time of David. Nay, of ages after- wards it were, of course, true to say the same thing, and to add this also, that when, so far as numbers were concerned, it became possible, still it rlid not become fact. Through all these ages, however, with all receding tides, and notwithstanding some extraordinary checks, religion never became utterly lost to sight. Once during those ages it showed a number not exceeding eight, another time not fewer than seven thousand, and, for the most part, what the number was, greater or less, God only knew-he aloc.c could say. Yet through good report and ill, through good times and bad, it was acqui~ing strength unmeasured and i=easurable. It was insisting on its own vitality; it was proving the courage of its convictions; its tone was of no uncertain kind; its mien was ever of the undaunted. In patriarchal succession of families, what pungent lessons religion many a. time taught and made itself known thereby ! In Egyptian times, amid temptation and snare, what various knowledge and determination it was maturing! In the wilderness, how carefully by form, by sacrifice, by sign, by judgment, it was shaping individual and national life. Amid the dangers and the glories of the people's settlement in the land of promi~e, amid the achievements of judges and leaders and captains, and the multitudinous strifes of little kings, its pronounced voice spoke the word and it wns done, or, if the voice was silent, the people were undone. .All this time, measurable only by thousands of years, it was betraying its existence, indicating its nature, betokening a large store of sleeping strength, and anything but seeming to exhaust or to strain its own energy. But now the principle of religion seems to have burst into full life. Its many and outspreading branches hang down with ripe and golden fruit. Now it is the li~ht and life, the joy and strength, the reverence and pride of a whole nation, from the highest to the lowest. All business, all pleasure, all other thought or care, stand still to look, or throng to join in a scene festive of festivity itself. 'l'he day itself is ablaze, not with the ordinary light and heat of a splendid sun over Zion's heights, but with the service and joy of religion in a hundred thousand hearts-in" Jerusalem and all Judrea," but culminating in Zion, And it is all because" In Judah God is kuown, his Name great in Israel. In Salem also is his tabernacle, and his dwellin!!-place in Zion." Illessed glimpse of what it will be for this world, when "God shall o.ll renew," and the joy become universal. II. THE ATTAINMENT OF A CONSPICUOUS AND FIXED HOME FOB RELIGION. Thoup;h the world of mankind is some three thousand years old, religion had been as yet but 11 wayfarer. It had never deserted men. Its spirit hnd influenced, guided, ruled their spirit; it had consoled their sorrows, heightened their joys ten thousand separate times; but it has not yet had an honoured dwelling-place, a worthy throne, a fixed home. To this it bas now come, and to this it has been brought up by the willing enthusiasm of king and prophet, priest and people, There can be no doubt that its local habitntion exposes it to some danger, to some misunderstanding. The long process of ages hllB been undoing, is atill undoing the danger, correcting the misunderstanding. 'fhe city then emphatically set on a hill has never been hidden. Ten thousand others, the spiritual copies of it, have to.ken its name upon them, and have helped thereby to prove practically that Zion's glory that rlay did not foreshadow the ezclusiwne.ss of an individual place, but only the sure foundation and settled firmness of God'8 owu Church, and its exalted, commanding prominence. The typical lessons, therefore, of the day on which David fixed the symbols and the services and the servants of a true, revealed religion on Zion are not to the effect that relip;ion itself is anythin11; l~ss than a pure, silent, but mighty principle in the heart, but rather thnt it is to be tho avowed, conspicuous, and abiding principle of the life, o.nd of the life of all. 'l'he distribution of religion is emphatically not to be partial. 'l'he influences of it are emphatically not to be intelligible only to an initiated few. The force of it is emphatically not to exyend itself invisibly, and exhaust itself according to imlividual fickleness or frailty. t is to state its character, its quality, its very nature before nil the world, and under the blaze of publicity itself-a. testimony for or against cvPry man to tht1 eye or ear of whom it has become proclaimed. And in spito of one or two temporary and superficial appearances to the contrary, these were the truths which that day was proffering to teach. For a while, perhaps, it was "Zion's hei~ht ~lone;' 10me thougM it was to be always "Zion'& height alone;" but faithful histu,·y 250 THE FIRST BOOK OF TRE CHRONICLES. (oH. xvr. 1-43.
and imperious necessity have proved the contrary, and have prove,l that to have been never meant. "Not now on Zion's height alone_ Thy favoured worshipper may dwell. • • • • • " To thee. at last, in every clime Shall temples rise and praise be sung."
III. THE ELEMENTS OF THE RELIGIOUS JOY OF A NATioN:s GRANDEST FESTIVAL. These are certainly not obscurely told here. They consist in thanks for all that is and adoring praise for him, from whom all good is. The mind and memory 'have been stirred up, and from their depth and their breadth come the testimonials of his boundless compassion, mighty deliverance, tenderest mercy, good gift and grace. The heart knows the meaning, and, though often too insensible, now owns the joy. Happy is tha_t teacher of religion -:vho, with Div~ne ~elp and the Divine Spirit, can make the mmd and memory do this, some of their highest and most fruitful work. He will be a useful teach_er,,pre~cher, pastor, guide o_f so~ls. Angels very likely may spring at once to adorations lughest reach and stram direct. But we are permitted to rise thither through the appeal to our nature of gratitude. The religious service and lan- guage of this day is the reiteration of appeal to give thanks, while the ground for doing so is simply and impressively told. This mingles a vein of pathos, of confession, of dependent prayer; and then acclamation and the praise not of thanksgiving, but of adoration, fill every heart and tongue. Such is the worship for such as we have been, when we get above. Such are the songs of heaven and its temple. Such the joy of each and of all, who there recount with the fulness of gratitude dangers past, sin forgiven, ,z,iilt cleansed away, salvation freely given, till the enraptured soul is lost in adoration and" glories in the praise" of Jehovah.