farther into the subject at this time, that a lively apprehension of the facts of the gospel, as we have them set forth in the Creed and as they entered into the faith of the early Church, çan never prevail to any extent, without bringing into exercise the spirit of church festivals, as it showed its force in the first centuries; and so, as the reverse of this, that there can be no reigning indifference to those occasions, allowing them to fall into neglect and disuse, which shall not be attended with a corresponding want of hearty living sympathy with the facts they celebrate, and the habit of turning them unconsciously into mere spiritualistic dreams.

714

FALLEN IS THY THRONE.

BY THOMAS MOORE.

FALLEN is thy throne, O Israel!
Silence is o'er thy plains;
Thy dwellings all lie desolate,
Thy children weep in chains.
Where are the dews that fed thee
On Ethom's barren shore?

That fire from heav'n which led thee,
Now lights thy path no more.

Lord! thou didst love Jerusalem;
Once she was all thy own;
Her love thy fairest heritage,
Her power thy glory's throne.

Till evil came and blighted
Thy long, lov'd olive tree;
And Salem's shrines were lighted
For other gods than Thee!

Then sunk the star of Solyma;
Then pass'd her glory's ray,
Like heath, that in the wilderness
The wild wind whirls away.
Silent and waste her bowers,
Where once the mighty trod,
And sunk those guilty towers,
Where Baal reigned as god.

"Go." said the Lord-"ye conquerors
Steep in her blood your swords,
And raze to earth her battlements;
For they are not the Lord's!
Till Zion's mournful daughter
O'er kindred bones shall tread,
And Hinnom's vale of slaughter,
Shall hide but half her dead!"

THE TREES OF THE BIBLE.

NO. XIV.. -THE POMEGRANATE.

BY THE EDITOR.

It is also

THE Pomegranate tree is very common in the Holy Land. found growing wild in Syria, in the south of Europe, and in the north of Africa. It is a low tree, and has a straight stem, and reddish bark. Its branches are very thick, bushy and spreading, and some of them are crowned with sharp thorns, and its leaves are narrow, shaped like a spear.

This tree is noted for the large, beautiful and odorous flowers which it bears. They are of an elegant red color, and resemble a rose. Оп this account it is one of the chief ornaments of oriental gardens. The tree itself, as well when it is in bloom, as when it is ladened with ripe fruit, is said to excel all other fruit trees in beauty.

The fruit of this tree is quite round, "of the size of an orange, of a tawny brown, with a thick astringent coat, containing abundance of seeds, each enveloped in a distinct, very juicy, crimson coat, whose flavor in a wild state is a pure and very strong acid; but in the cultivated plant, sweet and highly grateful." Like other summer fruit it has the general qualities of allaying heat and quenching thirst. The color of the fruit is a high scarlet. When it is quite ripe it bursts open, and then the bluish-purple seeds are seen partly imbedded in a juicy flesh, which in color is a mixture of red and yellow.

Dr. Harris, speaking of this tree says: "The high estimation in which it was held by the people of Israel may be inferred from its being one of the three kinds of fruit brought by the spies from Eschol to Moses and the congregation in the wilderness; Numb. 13. 23: 20. 5: and from its being specified by that rebellious people as one of the greatest luxuries which they enjoyed in Egypt, the want of which they felt so severely in the sandy desert. The pomegranate, classed by Moses with wheat and barley, vines and figs, oil-olive and honey, was, in his account, one principal recommendation of the promised land. Deut. 8: 8. The form of this fruit was so beautiful as to be honored with a place at the bottom of the high priest's robe; Exod. 28: 33, and Ecclesiastics 45: 9; and was the principal ornament of the stately columns of Solomon's temple. A section of the apple gives a fine resemblance of a beautiful cheek. Cantic. 4 3. The inside is full of small kernels, replenished with a generous liquor. In short, there is scarcely any part of the pomegranate which doth not delight and recreate the senses."

The pomegranate tree and fruit was held in high estimation among the Jews. "No circumstance," says Paxton, "more clearly proves the value which the orientals put upon this fruit, than the choice which Solomon makes of it to represent certain graces of the church: 'Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate within thy locks,' chap. 4: 3;

and in the thirteenth verse, the children of God are compared to an orchard of pomegranates with pleasant fruits." It was a symbol of richest divine blessing. It is even yet so regarded in the East. When Otho, King of Greece, in 1834, came to the pass of Thermopolæ, he was met by an aged, motherly-looking woman, who presented him with a pomegranate, and said: "O King, may your years be as many as the beautiful seeds in this fruit."

Because this fruit was so valued it was regarded as a great calamity and curse from God when the pomegranate failed to bear. Joel 2: 12; Hag. 2: 19.

Solomon celebrates the excellence of "the spiced wine of the juice of the pomegranate." Songs of Sol. 4: 2. "The juice," says Paxton, "especially when expressed from the seeds and interior film, by which the bitter flavor is avoided, is a delicate beverage; and one pomegranate will sometimes fill a basin." He says also that the Syrians, in very hot weather, use a very grateful and cooling drink made of wine mixed with the juice of this fruit. He thinks this the spouse, in the passage just quoted, proposed to make for her beloved. "Or," he adds, "perhaps she means a species of wine made of pomegranate juice, which, we learn from Chardin, is drunk in considerable quantities in the East, and particularly in Persia." There is reason to suppose that the orientals used the juice of this fruit to flavor their drink in the same way as we now use lemons.

OH, FEAR NOT THOU TO DIE.

AUTHOR UNKNOWN.

OH, fear not thou to die,

Far rather fear to live-for life

Has thousand snares thy feet to try

By peril, pain and strife.

Brief is the work of death,

But life-the spirit shrinks to see

How full, ere Heaven recall the breath,

The cup of woe may be.

Oh, fear not thou to die:

No more to suffer, or to sir,

No snare without thy faith to try,

No traitor heart within.

But fear, oh, rather fear,

The gay, the light, the changeful scene,

The flattering smiles that greet thee here,

From Heaven thy heart to win.

Oh, fear not thou to die,

To die and be that blessed one,

Who in the bright and beauteous sky

May feel that never more

The tear of grief, of shame, shall come

For thousand wanderings from the Power,

Who loved and called thee home.

THE LAKE.

FROM THE GERMAN, BY N. S.

ONE day a father and son stood on the bank of a lake. It was quiet, like a child sleeping in a cradle. Flowers and trees were reflected from the quiet water, and the sky above lent to it its pure blue; swans and other water birds swam upon its surface; fishes leaped joyfully from the depths to the light of the sun.

"How peaceful," said the son, "is our lake to day! The breeze scarcely ruffles its surface, and the sun is reflected back, as if he stood in his own firmament. The whole landscape is seen in the flood, as if the hand of a skilful painter had drawn it in its smallest details. Indeed, it seems to me, as if the landscape lay even more tenderly and beautifully in the image than in nature itself. I would like to compare this picture with some other one; but I cannot bring out the analogy."

"Perhaps, my dear son," said his father, "perhaps you need not search far after it; may be you bear it in your own bosom. Let me try to show it to you.' 29

After they had composed themselves upon grassy seats which were fixed there, the father began thus: "The soul of man, when like yours it is good, pious and innocent, receives every thing that is lovely and fair in heaven and earth into itself as a pure mirror does an image. Passion does not disturb or becloud it, and thus it is the abode of peace and bliss, which is truly divine, because it is the reflection of heaven in the life of man. As the swan belongs to the lake, so does religion belong to man. As the dying swan breathes forth melodies, so in the last hours of life religion cheers us with sounds of charming power, and we dissolve in blessed sighs and joyful tears. Then friendship, love, and all the beautiful virtues glow in us like the stars in heavenlike the sun and moon in the quiet water; now the one, then the other shines in blissful brightness. Thus the lake is like the pure soul of man.”

Then the son grasped the hand of his father with intensity of joy, fell apon his bosom and embraced him in blessed rapture. The father understood the meaning of this quiet embrace, and gave his beloved child his best blessing.

Now they left this place to go into a village near by, where the father had some business. The path led them sometimes over hills, and then through grain fields and woods. In a short time they reached the valley in which the village lay. Soon the business was successfully accomplished. As they returned home, they found the sky, where before scarcely a fleeting speck was seen, nearly all covered over with thunder clouds.

“There will be a fierce storm to-day," said the father to the son, "let us hasten home before it overtakes us." The heavens grew darker and blacker; the sun hid his countenance; the herds hastened home; the birds flew chirping and shrieking through the air; and the storm clouds, rising higher, whirled upon mighty wings. Lightning trembled dread

fully in the thick dark clouds, and the thunder broke with fearful crash upon the mountain. They arrived at the lake.

What a change is here! Where but a few hours before all was peace, there is now uproar and commotion. The clear blue is now changed into the color of death. One wave dashes and breaks upon the other; and the lightnings dart like fiery serpents over the surface of the flood. "Let us, my dear son, enter yon fisher's hut," said the father, "for the storm will soon fully break upon us." Scarce had they reached it when heavy drops of rain began to fall, and both were glad to have found a shelter.

Now the storm with giant force broke loose from its fetters. The trees bowed quivering before its rage, and grass and flowers whirled in the air. The rain fell in torrents, and with its war mingled lightning and thunder. The little hut shook; the lake swelled and raged, dashing over its accustomed banks, as if it would fall in angry strife upon the rushing floods that roared into it from the mountain side.

"Is not the soul of man, when mastered and swayed by passion, like this raging lake?" said the father. "Ah! then also does the former serenity and pleasant peace fly away, and in the dreadful storm it is no more master over itself. Evil thoughts arise in the heart like poisonous serpents! The spirit breaks over its limits, and the voice of religion is hushed. O son, my beloved son, may heaven protect thee against such an outbreak; for often thus is the bloom of life destroyed forever; and when at last the time for reaping comes, ah! then the poor soul has nothing to gather but bitter tears!"

The storm ceased. The clouds began to disperse, and in the distance stood the bow of peace, raised as a sign of victory in the temple-hall of nature. Father and son were, on their way home, each busy with his own thoughts. At length the father broke the silence thus:

"This sudden transition of storm and peace seems to have awakened you to reflection: so it ought to be, for this is a picture of earthly life! But heaven remains always pure and clear, even through storms. Beneath it vapors of earth may gather and become clouds; storms may rage in dreadful sport over the earth's surface, still the blue heaven above, studded with shining worlds, without restlessness or change, look down to-day in friendly peace as they did a thousand years ago. When the storm has ceased to rage here below, then dawn out again the shining heavens, and the Father of Peace above us plants the colored bow of sweet reconciliation, between heaven and earth. Behold how beautiful it shines in its bright colors! Is it not a charming symbol of compassionate grace? So, in the heart of man, when the storm of passion has cleared is raised the signal of peace. But few take notice of it, and if they do, it has no charm for them. Instead of looking up to Him, who caused the tumult to cease, they rather turn farther away from Him, until more hopelessly than before they fall again under the dark powers of sin and sorrow. Therefore, my son, if in your bosom arise storms and thunders, then, my son, lift your eyes to heaven, seek the former peace, and a cheerful mind will return to you, and you will soon stand forth happy in victorious peace."

As they reached the house, the anxious mother with the remaining