Thy veil is torn-thine holiest desolate Thy Seers are dead-thy Thummim beams not fate! Oh lost! shall mortal speak with God alone? Lo! Prayer, the angel, kneels-the mighty one On earth-her eye in heaven, her hand upon the throne! The heaven is weeping stars, pale gleams, and dew; An island of its depths, where sleeps the flood Of heaven-my garments white in Jesus' blood— For on this altar I beheld expire The sun, a martyr; in his glorious blood Was dyed the west-till the immortal fire Sank in one flash, like an engulféd flood; And glimmered in the sky a ghostly cloud, All gray and withered in its rayless shroud; And the wan moon was wedded to the gloomLike the lone spectre to its ruined tomb, Or corpse-light to the shroud, till dawns the day of doom! J. K. THE WISE AND THE FOOLISH VIRGINS. THE fertility of the Oriental imagination has become proverbial; and of this the Israelites possessed their full share. Not only is it observable in their language-in the flowery strains of the Psalms, the sublimity of Isaiah, or the deep pathos of the lamentations of Job -but also, to an extent equally remarkable, in their ceremonies, customs, and observances. To the Hebrew everything was animate; he heard the voice of nature speaking through all her works; and fancy seemed to open to him those secrets of connection between mind and matter, which Adam had knowledge of in Eden. The natural scenery of Palestine nourished and augmented these feelings. Cedars of Lebanon, the deserts of Jordan, the Dead Sea, the vale of Gehenna, and the plain of Bethlehem, each had its mysterious and presiding spirit, communicating with the spirit of man. The Hebrew saw real life in the little sprouts that spring gave to the trees, and he called them the daughters of the bough; and in like manner the long rays which precede the rising of the sun were the eyelashes of the morning. So, also, every ceremony had its mystical import. Marriage is celebrated in the Canticles with a fervor scarcely appreciable to the colder intellect of modern times. It would be a mistake to suppose that Solomon exaggerated a simple rite, merely to supply a noble theme for song; the probability is that a Hebrew marriage, unless among the lowest classes, surpassed in pompous hilarity the most vivid picture of it that can be found in Scripture. It was not merely the giving away of the young bride to a new guardian and another home; every period of the ceremony the triumphal procession of the bridegroom from his house to the bride's, the stated intervals of music, the virgins watching for his coming, the scattering of water and aromatics, had its peculiar significancy; and that this might be more impressive, the marriage took place at night, in the open air, amid the rills and vales, and under the full moonbeams of a Jewish landscape. The esteem which the Jews entertained for marriage afforded our Saviour many opportunities to enforce his teachings by references to it. In that memorable and sublime conversation with the Twelve, concerning the destruction of Jerusalem, and of the world, he illustrated the necessity of Christian vigilance by the Parable of the Ten Virgins. The narrative is so well known as scarcely to require repetition. During that part of the evening when the bridegroom was preparing for his journey to the bride's tent, ten virgins took lamps, and, according to custom, went forth to join the little procession that escorted him. "Five of them were wise, and five were foolish." The former took oil with them, to provide for the frequent emergency of the bridegroom's long delay; the latter neglected the precaution. What the wise virgins had anticipated occurred. "The bridegroom tarried,” and what seems not to have been very frequent on such occasions, all the virgins fell asleep. When the bridegroom did come, however, those who had provided themselves with oil arose, filled and relighted their lamps, and went in with him to the marriage feast. The door was shut; and the foolish virgins, after vainly endeavoring to borrow oil from the others, were dismissed with shame. This parable is full of instruction. To the Christian, the mere fact of its referring to a curious ceremony, and thus illustrating a Jewish custom, is of little consequence. If among those who call themselves by the name of Christ, we perceive some who belie their profession — if some true believers evince much apathy and lukewarmness, we have in this parable a key of explanation. "Behold," says its author, "I have told you before." Whether by the coming of the bridegroom, we are to understand his coming to each individual in death, or his coming to the world in judgment, two things are certain-that he will find unbelievers professing to serve him, and believers sleeping with dangerous apathy by the side of false professors. That terrible midnight cry, "Behold, he cometh," will, it is true, arouse the latter class in time for salvation. Yet it will be with the shame and guilt of the sentinel found sleeping at his post. They will be saved "as by fire," only because supplied with the oil of grace which the Spirit of God imparts to his children. There is another important light in which we may view this parable. While our Saviour was looking down upon the Holy City from the Mount of Olives, his disciples came to him privately, asking, “What shall be the sign of thy coming, and of the end of the world?" Probably the question originated from a belief then gaining ground, that the dissolution of all things was not very distant. They would know the day and the hour. Jesus, wishing to repress this useless curiosity, declared that neither man nor angels could be intrusted with the secrets of Providence; and that the duty of the true child of God, was to watch continually. To show the danger of not doing so, he delivered the parable of the ten virgins. As, through carelessness, some of them lost their place at the marriage supper, so, by the same cause, hundreds and thousands would lose their interest in the spiritual marriage between Christ and his Church. He exhorts his followers to study the designs of Providence in the signs of the times, rather than through the secrets of God. "Now learn a parable of the fig tree. When his branch is yet tender and putteth forth leaves, ye know that summer is nigh; so likewise ye, when ye shall see all these things, know that it is near, even at the doors." It was by observing the signs of the times, that old Simeon was enabled to take the child Jesus in his arms, and affirm that he had seen the promised day of salvation; and by neglecting them, many, like the foolish virgins, will be roused by the midnight cry, without the oil of grace in their hearts; and, while vainly endeavoring to purchase it from their fellow-men, will have the gate of heaven closed upon them for ever. A TEMPLE NOT MADE WITH HANDS. THE mountains are God's altars, on whose sides Than any built by human pride or folly. |