history of the Hebrew nation from the time of David until after the restoration from captivity.

David's early occupation was that of a shepherd. This fact gives a peculiar significance to such Psalms as "The heavens declare the glory of God," or, "O Lord, our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth!" which seem to be the irrepressible outbursting of devout emotions on viewing the wonderful works of Providence. "The Lord

is my Shepherd," we can hardly help thinking must have been suggested while viewing in a time of trouble some pastoral scene, covered with flocks fed and cared for by Providence.

The Hebrew mode of celebrating religious worship was arranged and methodized by David and Solomon, and to this several of the Psalms relate. The twenty-fourth is supposed to have been prepared on the occasion of bringing in the ark to the tabernacle or to the temple. It begins with the great truth, "The earth is the Lord's, and all that is therein." Yet Jehovah, the Maker of heaven and earth, hath chosen a place where he is to be worshipped; and as this glorious, heavenly King enters the sanctuary, it is personified and exhorted to receive him worthily. The Psalm is adapted, as others were, to be sung by responsive choirs. The first choir sings, "Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in!" The second choir responds, "Who is this King of glory?" The first, or perhaps both unitedly, answer, "The Lord, strong and mighty; the Lord, mighty in battle."

The hundred and thirty-seventh Psalm, "By the rivers of Babylon we sat down and wept," carries us into the midst of the memories, the sufferings and the scenes of captivity.

The Psalms descriptive of natural scenes are extremely beautiful. As, for example, the twenty-ninth, which was apparently suggested by a thunder-storm; and the sixtyfifth, which draws a lesson of trust in God from a view of his works. But few are more remarkable than the hundred and fourth and the hundred and thirty-ninth. The former, which demonstrates the glory of the Creator from the wisdom, beauty and variety of the creation, we may imagine to have been written in the midst of some sylvan scene, alive with sights and sounds of happiness; while the latter

would seem to have been composed in the silence and solitude of night, when no outward object drew off the thoughts of its author from the mystery of his own nature and the awful majesty of God.

Text-2 SAMUEL Xxiii. 1-4.

RIDE IN JUDEA.

PART II.

WHEN King David was gaining one town after another in war, he desired to have the high rock on which the Jebusites had built their fort Jebus. But this rock was so high and so steep, that the Jebusites thought no enemy could ever take it; and they therefore sent an insulting message to David, that they would make their lame and blind people defend the fort, and then he might take it if he could. The king was in the valley below; and he examined the place, and saw a watercourse which he thought his soldiers could climb. They did climb up by the watercourse, and they took the fort, and cast out the people who were there,—the lame and the blind,-and David went and lived there. This rock was the Mount Zion that David so loved, and of which he sang so much in his Psalms: and the place he lived in, on the summit of the hill, was called the City of David, and afteryards Jerusalem. I was surprised to see how high the hill was, and to find how long it took to walk up it. The first we saw of it was when we rode on from the valley where David used to keep his father's sheep, near Bethlehem. One long line of wall appeared on a ridge before us, with one large building within it. We knew at once that this was Jerusalem; and when we had come a mile nearer to it, and seen how deep a valley we were to descend into, and how steeply rose the hills on which the city was built, we all thought Jerusalem a grander city than we had expected to see. Our road wound down into the valley, and then up again to the city walls; and we passed under its great gateway, and through the narrow, steep, ill-paved streets, till we came to the house where lodgings were provided for us.

When there, we ladies were immediately shewn up to

the top story of the house, where the most airy rooms were. My room opened upon a platform, where there was a glorious view, partly over the city, and partly of a high-swelling hill which rose opposite. This hill was the Mount of Olives; and in the town below I had a full view of a long winding street, which is said to be that along which Jesus carried his cross, when he was led out to be crucified. There was seldom any one seen in that street; for Jerusalem is very large for the number of people who live in it; and those who are abroad go chiefly to the markets and shops: but I saw groups of people very often on the Mount of Olives. Sometimes they came down one road with their asses laden with corn for the city; sometimes they went up an opposite road towards Bethany, the village where Lazarus and his sisters lived, which is, as we are told in the New Testament, fifteen furlongs, or nearly two miles off. I was never tired of looking abroad upon the Mount of Olives, from the platform on which my room-door opened. By day, the unclouded sun cast shadows from the olive-trees which are scattered over its slopes; and almost the whole mountain was green with the young wheat (for it was now the month of April). And by night the moon came up behind the ridge, the large yellow moon, which shone all night long, without a cloud ever crossing its face. But it was not enough to look out upon these interesting places. We wished to be there, and examine every spot for ourselves. We went several times to the Mount of Olives; and I twice reached the top of it.

The way to it was through the long narrow street I have mentioned, which is called (in a foreign language) The Mournful Way. The street is so narrow, and the blank walls on either hand are so high, that the echo of a horse's feet was such as one might hear between two rocks. We wished very much to see the place where the temple stood: and from a distance we might see it: but we were not allowed to set foot within the enclosure. The most painful thing

of all at Jerusalem is to see how the Jews and Christians and Mohammedans hate each other. They shut one another out from their places of worship: and the great church (called a mosque) of the Mohammedans now stands where the temple of the Jews once stood: and if any Jew or Christian were to enter any part of the enclosure, he would be

stoned or beaten to death. Just after I left Jerusalem, an English physician was sent for to attend some person whose house was within the enclosure; and as he was coming out he was seized by the people (though he had not gone to the church itself) and beaten almost to death. The soldiers who were sent saved him with the utmost difficulty. We were warned of the danger; so we went no nearer than we knew to be safe. Still, when some little boys saw what we were looking at, they cursed us and spat at us, because we did not believe in their Prophet, Mohammed. The best view we got was from the top of the governor's house, where there was a flat roof, on which chairs were placed for us, on our paying some money to be allowed to sit there a little while. From that place we could overlook the whole ground where the temple and its courts existed in the time of Christ. We tried to suppose where the gate was by which he used to come up; and where the treasury was, where he saw the widow cast in the little she had to give; and where he was standing when he so taught the people as that the officers would not lay hands on him, because he spoke as they never heard any other man speak. The present occupiers are afraid lest the Christians or the Jews should get possession of the ground again, some time or other, and build a new temple; so they guard the place most carefully, and have built up the finest entrance, called the Golden Gate, with heavy blocks of stone, keeping sentinels on the watch within, day and night, all the year round. But there are hardly any Christians in Jerusalem now; and the Jews are not very many; and so depressed and weak, that they do not think of recovering their beautiful temple ground, unless God gives it them by a miracle. For this they go and pray every Friday. They go to a narrow bit of lane under one part of the temple wall, and there they sit in the dust, or lean their head against the wall, and weep and sob, and pray that Jehovah will abase their enemies, and make the Jewish worship and power as glorious as ever they were. I never saw a more mournful sight than this.

From the temple wall, the descent is steep into the valley of Jehoshaphat. We went down this steep hill, and at the bottom found the channel where the brook Kedron used to run. There is seldom, or never, any water there now; but we liked to see where the brook was when Jesus used to

semane.

cross it, to reach the Mount of Olives. On the other side of the little bridge, we soon came to the Garden of GethThis is a forlorn-looking place now, to be called a garden. Nothing grows there but eight very old olivetrees; and the soil is stony, and the surrounding wall crumbling away. The garden is less than 200 feet square. A more dreary place than it is now cannot be seen. But we observed how plainly Jesus and his followers must here have seen the crowd issuing from the city-gate at the top of the hill, with torches and clubs, when they were coming out against him. He must have seen them every step of the way, down the hill and across the brook and up to the garden gate, when he came forward from among the trees, asking them why they brought swords and staves, and made so much tumult, when they knew it was never his way to conceal himself or to resist.

It was a toilsome walk from this garden to the top of the Mount of Olives,-very steep and very long, and the road stony. Wheat was growing on the slopes, and trees were scattered about; and we passed a house with a chapel, built on the spot where it is believed that Jesus stood when he mourned over the city, and said that there was not one stone of the temple that should not be thrown down. At the very top, the view must have been so fine, that every lover of his country and people must have delighted in going up there to gaze abroad. To the left (that is, to the east), rose up the mountains of Moab, far away, with the Dead Sea glittering below, and the valley of the Jordan spreading, fruitful as a garden; and to the right (that is, the west), the pastures were clothed with flocks, and the hills were rich with corn, oil and wine, with wheat crops, olives and vines; while opposite, crowning the hills of Zion and Moriah, stood the glorious city, and the temple, with its gilded roof flashing in the sunshine, and the smoke of the sacrifice curling up into the clear sky. No wonder Jesus loved to go out to the Mount of Olives! He probably went oftenest up the Bethany road, because his friends lived out that way; but sometimes, too, he must have come hither, to the highest part, to overlook the country and city which he loved, and tried in vain to save.

Text--LUKE Xxii. 39-42.