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second psalm bears for its title," the Hind of the Morning," probably alluding to its early rising, as soon as the morning ray reaches its retreat, that it may enjoy the free and glorious sunshine, and feed at ease in its verdant meadows, ere the heat is up, or the hunter has come into the field. Why this title should be given to this psalm is a matter for much conjecture. The most probable we have seen, is that which gives it a mystical reference to Christ, "the Hind of the Morning," and who is agreed by all Jewish and Christian writers to be the prophetic subject of the twenty-second psalm. The poet Cowper seems to have this in his mind when he sings

"I was a stricken deer, that left the herd

Long since. With many an arrow deep infixed
My panting side was charged, when I withdrew
To seek a tranquil death in distant shades.
There I was found by One who had himself
Been hurt by the archers. In his side he bore,

And in his hands and feet, the cruel scars."-TASK, b. iii.

In the Song of Solomon there are allusions to the beauty of its eyes, the elegance of its form, the grace of its action, and the swiftness of its flight.

Some of the names of scripture, and of the orientals generally, are evidently derived from some of the features of the hart, and, while they show the estimation in which it was held, express in some sort the peculiar excellences of the parties to whom they were applied. In 2 Sam. i. 19, Saul is called, "The roe of Israel." Tabitha, in Syriac, means antelope, and probably was given to her who bore the name in Acts ix. 36, from the beauty of her eyes. Persons, too, are described by comparison with this animal, as in 2 Sam. ii. 18, "Asahel" is said to have been " as light of foot as a wild roe."

QUESTIONS BY BIBLE SCHOLARS,

ANSWERED BY REV. DR. HEWLETT.*

What was the inscription on the cross?—or, can Matthew xxvii. 37, Luke xxiii. 38, and John xix. 19, be reconciled?

"This is Jesus the King of the Jews."-Matt. xxvii. 37. "This is the King of the Jews."-Luke xxiii. 38.

"Jesus of Nazareth the King of the Jews."-John xix. 19.

THE inscription over the head of Christ when he was crucified was the accusation which had been brought against him. In

most cases the cause of accusation and the cause of condemnation are one. Not so in this case. For he was not condemned for sedition, for which he was accused, as the superscription implies, but he was condemned for alleged blasphemy, of which offence the inscription contains no intimation.

The Jews were intent upon accomplishing the death of Christ, and that they might do it with some show of legal sanction, they charge him with blasphemy, and move a trial in the ecclesiastical court. In that court all questions pertaining to the laws of the Jewish religion were determined. And though there were some good men in the sanhedrim,-this remnant of legal authority among the Jews,-yet it was well known to be so corrupt as to be ready to lend its sanction to the basest deed that men or demons could perpetrate. And it made good the character it had obtained. It condemned the holy Son of God in the charge of blasphemy, and sentenced him to death. But Caiaphas, the supreme judge of the ecclesiastical court, had no power to execute the sentence of capital punishment. The sanction of the civil authorities was necessary. And to obtain this, it is deemed desirable to bring against him a charge in which the civil government is interested. He is accused of sedition. He is fully acquitted of this charge, when Pilate, as judge of the civil court, gave his verdict, "I find no fault in him." But the Jews, with an impatient solicitude, importune Pilate to execute the sentence of the ecclesiastical court, John xix. 7, 12. At length Pilate, being urged by his pledged allegiance to Cæsar, consents to the death of Jesus.

As an officer of the civil court, he, in giving directions for the crucifixion, could write over the cross no other than the accusation of a civil offence.

He was put to death "because he made himself the Son of God," John xix. 7. But the inscription referred to the accusation, that he essayed to make himself a king. Both his condemnation of the sin of blasphemy and his accusation of sedition were equally false.

The diversity in the accounts the evangelists give of the inscription, arises from the fact that there were three versions of the inscription, viz., Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. It was written in Hebrew that the Jews resident in Jerusalem might read and understand it,-in Greek, for the benefit of the strangers visiting Jerusalem,-and in Latin, as the court language of the government under whose authority the crucifixion was appointed.

There is much reason to believe, that, as the word pro, Jesus, means Saviour in the Hebrew tongue, Pilate inserted the word

, the Nazarene, to gratify the prejudices of the Jews, who believed that no good thing could come out of Nazareth. As John was a Jew by birth, there is reason to suppose that he would

quote the inscription as it appeared in his native tongue, and

יֵשׁוּעַ הַנָּצְרִי מֶלֶךְ therefore the inscription handed down by him is

DT, "Jesus of Nazareth the King of the Jews."

Luke, a Greek name, Aovkas, an Antiochan by birth, of Gentile extraction, was evidently, from the character of his Greek writing, a good scholar. These considerations furnish a high degree of probability that Luke would select the Greek version of the inscription, ΟΥΤΟΣ ΕΣΤΙΝ Ο ΒΑΣΙΛΕΥΣ ΤΩΝ ΙΟΥΔΑΙΩΝ,” "This is the King of the Jews."

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Matthew, being an officer in the service of the Roman government, would, as a matter of course, be familiar with the Latin language, since in that language all government documents were written. It is therefore highly probable that he selected the Latin version of the inscription, "HIC EST IESVS REX IVDEORVM," ," "This is Jesus the King of the Jews."

This thrice transcribed sentence appears to be an undesigned prediction of the extensive diffusion of the gospel, and the subjugation of different nations of the earth to the spiritual authority of Christ. And throughout the Jewish nation, the empire of Rome, and the Grecian territories, the gospel was first proclaimed, and from these its first trophies were won. The doctrine of the cross is the foundation of Christ's kingdom. His kingdom cannot be moved. Its power is inherent. It renounces all dependence on civil authority. "My kingdom is not of this world." Its regions are the souls of men; its means of extension, moral influence; its boundaries, the world.

Dear reader, own Christ as your king. Yield to his authority. Prove your loyalty to him. Delight in his government. Labour to extend his kingdom. Anticipate the blessedness of his universal triumph; and secure the hope of your recognition as his faithful subject amidst the acclaim of angels and the joys of heaven. Let the King of glory reign in you now, and you shall dwell with him hereafter.

THE YOUNG PEDLAR OF CORRIVOULIN.*

"What voice disturbs the calm of eve,
Where nought but ruined walls appear ?
Can fancy thus the sense deceive,

Or are they mortal tones I hear?"

I HAD been ferried across the Connel, and was retracing my steps towards Oban, when I turned aside to take a

*Extracted from a work entitled "Principles and Practice, or Stories for Young People." Edinburgh: William Oliphant and Sons, 7, South Bridge

street.

parting look at the ruined castle of Dunstaffnage.

This ancient fortress, once the residence of Scotland's kings, stands on a rocky promontory at the entrance of Loch Etive. The building is of a square form, the sides of a

commanding height, although the masonry be rude; and the rock having been hewn away on a line with the walls, and made precipitous like them, the castle must, before the invention of gunpowder, have been nearly impregnable. In former days it was accessible only by a drawbridge, which fell from a little gateway; but at present the interior is approached by a staircase of considerable altitude, as it is necessary to surmount the rock before reaching the castle. Altogether, the building is an interesting relic of feudal times; and adds a prominent and striking feature to the beautiful and romantic scenery by which it is surrounded.

Adjacent to the castle, and a little farther inland, stand the ruins of a small chapel, formerly used as a place of devotion by the garrison. In this now roofless building, many kings of Scotland are said to be interred; and the circumstance is not improbable, from its proximity to what was undoubtedly a royal residence, although it is well known that Iona was the favourite cemetery of the Scottish monarchy for many generations.

On the south side of the chapel there is a projecting rock, in front of which I paused for a few minutes, to contemplate the landscape beneath and around me. Immediately before me was the chapel, roofless and dilapidated, and voiceless as the dust which slept within its walls. A little beyond it was the castle, tall, prominent, and commanding, but silent also as the grave of its inhabitants. Farther off, and gleaming with the

rays of the setting sun, was the bright and azure sea, with here and there a white sail flitting gracefully along. Farther off still were the island of Lismore and the lofty hills of Morvern rearing their bold summits towards the sky. It was a prospect eminently fitted to impress the imagination; and I lingered on the spot, until warned by the rapidly descending sun that the day was already spent, and that I was a stranger in the land which I so much admired.

As I turned to depart, I was startled by the sound of vocal music issuing from the chapel. I had carefully examined the building but a short time before, and had seen no one within it; neither had I observed any one approach it afterwards. Still, it was quite possible that some lonely worshipper might, unperceived by me, have sought the altar of his forefathers, there to unite his remembrance of them with his adoration of the Most High. Curious, therefore, to see the person who had chosen that spot for his evening devotions, I drew near to the chapel on tip-toe and looked in; but there was no one to be seen; nothing was visible but the bare walls, and the long grass, and the tombstones of the dead. The music, however, continued to issue slowly and solemnly from the centre of the building. The language was the Gaelic, the voice apparently that of a young man about twenty years of age, and the theme one of the Psalms of David. I am not superstitious, but I felt a singular sensation creep over my frame, at thus "hearing a voice, but seeing no man." I

walked round the chapel, then retired to my former station beside the rock, and surveyed every spot within sight, but no human being was to be seen; yet the voice rose and fell in sweet melody as before, distinctly and audibly, from the roofless sanctuary. "Can this be real," said I to myself, "or is my imagination deceiving me? Has some disembodied spirit returned to the scene of its former devotions, to renew the orisons of departed years, or may this strange phenomenon be traced to natural causes? At all events I shall await the issue." I looked towards the setting sun; its disk already touched the horizon, and I was still three miles from Oban; but the idea of leaving the spot without solving the mystery, if it were capable of solution, was even more disagreeable than that of a starlight journey amidst the mountain solitudes of a strange land.

I had scarcely adopted the resolution of awaiting the event, when the music ceased, and there was silence for about two minutes; after which the voice again rose distinctly, in the form of slow and solemn prayer to the Almighty. The words were Gaelic as before, but I knew enough of that language to be aware that the invisible worshipper was wrestling powerfully with his God. My wonder and curiosity increased as the prayer proceeded; for, besides praying for his own salvation and that of his kindred and fellow-men, the unseen speaker pleaded earnestly for the success of Bible and Missionary and Tract and School Societies, and in a more especial manner for the Society for the Support of Gaelic

Schools in the Highlands. "If this be a disembodied spirit," thought I, "it must be one which has not been long disengaged from the flesh, for these societies are but of recent institution; or the inhabitants of the unseen world possess a most accurate knowledge of what is passing in this." In the meantime the voice ceased altogether, silence sunk afresh upon the scene, and I seemed to feel more than ever alone. I again approached the chapel and looked in, but it was empty as before; and the stillness, which on my first arrival had pervaded that resting-place of the dead, now appeared to be doubly solemn. The voice at any rate was gone; and the invisible worshipper seemed to have departed, without leaving me the slightest clue to the mystery which had perplexed me.

I was about to quit the spot with my astonishment unabated, and my curiosity wound up to the highest pitch, when I perceived a slender lad appear from behind the rock, in front of which I had been standing, and, without observing me, bend his steps towards the Connel. "Can this be the invisible worshipper?" said I, half aloud; "and has the phenomenon which has puzzled me been merely the consequence of an echo?" I smiled involuntarily as this idea flashed across my mind; and calling after the young man, I requested him to stop. He did so, and approached

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