(For the high-priestly benediction, see Numbers 6:24.) Raising suppliant hands is the formal, bodily sign of earnest prayer. Every mental or moral state has its corresponding natural bodily attitude or movement; and raising and stretching forth the opened hands in a receptive attitude is the natural bodily attitude accompanying petition. There is an important alteration in this sentence. It should be, "Lift up your hands to the sanctuary;" and the figure is of the priests turning towards the holy of holies, where the symbol of God's presence rested, and stretching forth hands of supplication towards it (see Solomon's attitude at the dedication of the temple).

I. THERE IS AN ELEMENT OF PRAYER IN ALL BLESSING OF GOD. There is for man; there may not be for angels. Man can never offer even his praise without a sense of his unworthiness. So he must always mingle a prayer for pardon and for pitying mercy with his thanksgivings. And he can never draw near to the Divine presence without a sense of need. So say what he may of God, or to God, in his praises, he finds that he always has something to ask for. His dependence always wants to find expression. We are always wrong if there is no prayer in our praises.

II. THE ELEMENT OF PRAYER FINDS EXPRESSION IN UPLIFTED HANDS. Kneeling in prayer is to a great extent a modern device. Easterns stand to pray. So did our forefathers. And so do those who now lead prayers at prayer-meetings. Stretching forth the hands is now regarded as the act of benediction, as in the Catholic and Scotch Protestant Churches. But it is such a universal and natural expression of supplication that it might very wisely be restored to use in private as well as public acts of prayer and praise. The apostle bids us "lift up holy hands, without wrath and doubting."

III. THE UPLIFTED HANDS MUST BE HOLY HANDS. The priests had to wash their hands, as a sign of their putting away all self-indulgence and self-will and all gathered evil before engaging in the praises of Jehovah. And it is the absolutely universal law, "Be ye clean that bear the vessels of the Lord." The symbol of the soul-cleanness which goes with sincerity and gains for us acceptance, is the washed and holy uplifted hands. - R.T.

The uses and meaning of this word "sanctuary" are very interesting and instructive. In all countries and in all ages the word has been used to denote a place set apart for special and sacred uses: among the heathen, to the temples of their first deities; among the Jews, to the temple of the true Jehovah; among ourselves, to the places of our holy assembling. But there is a yet deeper sense in which this word "sanctuary" is used of a holy place. It is made to denote the sacredest part of sacred places: among the heathen, to the inner shrines of their gods; among the Jews, the Holy of Holies, into which the high priest alone could enter; among ourselves, that sacredest part of our sacred places where the mysteries of the blessed Sacrament are celebrated. Then, again, the word is used to denote a place of refuge: such places the heathen had in their shrines of justice; such places the Jews had in those cities of refuge of which we read in the books of Moses; such place we have had in Christendom until very lately; places, as the lawyers call them, places of sanctuary. One of the last of these was in the precinct of the Savoy in London; I believe there is one still remaining in the palace of Holy-rood in Edinburgh. Then, again, the word "sanctuary" is used to denote a place of purification. Such places the heathen had, and still have, in their various rites of ablution; such places the Jews had in the ceremonies of purification; such places we have in the font of holy baptism. And then, lastly, this word is used to denote a place of rest and refreshment, of joy and of hope. Such places both heathen and Jew had in those groves which they used to plant, and those wells which they used to dig in the arid, burning deserts, where the pilgrims found shelter from the sun, and water to quench their thirst. Such places we have in Christendom in abundance. Every hospital in this city, every orphanage, every penitentiary, every almshouse, every school, — all these are places of sanctuary, where the young can be taught to love and serve God, where the sick can be healed and gladdened, where the orphan can be cherished and cared for, where old age can be tended and sheltered from the outside world. There are times in the most sheltered life when we long to find some quiet refuge where we may pour out our souls before God. We need constant cleansing, and the word denotes a place of purification. We are ever tempted to think that in this sin-stained world such purification is impossible, and there are some who find purity in the seclusion of the convent or monastery. But most of us must find it whilst in contact with the world's dangers and difficulties, and we may do it without missing our way. Ye may be in the world without being of the world. This aim of purity may consecrate all we do, and we can never rest until our aim of purity is every day higher, and our attainment every day richer and truer. The sanctuary is a place of refreshment, and of joy, peace, and hope. In this hard-working world we need a place where the world cannot worry us. At the time of the plague in Milan a great cardinal used to say that if it had not been for the morning and evening rest in the sanctuary he should never have been able, as he did, to pass through that trial of strength and courage which his devoted work in the city involved. And when we enter the sanctuary for rest, and for a blessing, our work itself becomes a rest and a stimulating refreshment. Lastly, the sanctuary is the home of hope. Whatever the world may have to promise us in the day of prosperity, it offers us nothing when the day of darkness and distress comes, or when disappointment overtakes us. This beautiful grace of hope may not seem so necessary for us when the sun of our life is shining brightly, when friends are many, and fortune is favourable, and prospects good; but wait until the days of loss and sickness come, when friends have taken to themselves wings, when you are covered with disaster; wait till you follow to the grave a wife, a sister, a brother, a friend; then where shall tope be found? Not on earth, not in the world, but in the sanctuary we learn what true consolation is. That hope gives us to know even hero something of the life which is beyond, a hope of immortality.

(H. White, M. A.)