CHAPTER XXV.

This chapter forms the commencement of one of the richest veins in Inspiration's exhaustless mine--a vein in which every stroke of the mattock brings to light untold wealth. We know the mattock with which alone we can work in such a mine, namely, the distinct ministry of the Holy Ghost. Nature can do nothing here. Reason is blind, imagination utterly vain; the most gigantic intellect, instead of being able to interpret the sacred symbols, appears like a bat in the sunshine, blindly dashing itself against the objects which it is utterly unable to discern. We must compel reason and imagination to stand without, while, with a chastened heart, a single eye, and a spiritual mind, we enter the hallowed precincts and gaze upon the deeply significant furniture. God the Holy Ghost is the only One who can conduct us through the courts of the Lord's house, and expound to our souls the true meaning of all that there meets our view. To attempt the exposition by the aid of intellect's unsanctified powers, would be infinitely more absurd than to set about the repairs of a watch with a blacksmith's tongs and hammer. "The pattern of things in the heavens" cannot be interpreted by the natural mind, in its most cultivated form. They must all be read in the light of heaven: earth has no light which could at all develop their beauties. The One who furnished the patterns can alone explain what the patterns mean,--the One who furnished the beauteous symbols can alone interpret them.

To the human eye there would seem to be a desultoriness in the mode in which the Holy Ghost has presented the furniture of the tabernacle; but in reality, as might be expected, there is the most perfect order, the most remarkable precision, the most studious accuracy. From