presents is not at all likely, of itself, to carry back our associations to that lowly stable at Bethlehem, where the holy Child Jesus was born. The commonest wood cut of the manger, and the oxen, that ever yet was appended to the cradle hymn of Dr. Watts, would be more likely to produce this effect, than the sumptuous, the splendid, the magnificent spectacle of the shrine of the nativity; but in the power of impressing the gazer with the reality of the objects presented to the eye, the glittering lamps, the stately pillars, the shrine, the crucifix, and the pictures, it is unrivalled. I have ascended the staircase, passed through the darkened room at its summit, and groped my way downwards, with my hand against the wall, to a seat immediately in front of the part appointed for the exhibition. Audible voices tell me that half a dozen or a dozen persons must be present, but as yet I can discern no one. Scribbling with my pencil, in darkness, I am gazing on the illuminated lamps, which seem to cast no light, except round the immediate place where they are suspended. A female voice is indulging in a levity quite at variance with the impressive gloom, and an occasional laugh is heard from the opposite end of the benches. The low, tremulous toll of a distant bell has vibrated through the place, and by slow, and scarcely perceptible degrees, the other lamps of the picture have been illuminated. There is the shrine of the nativity! A correct resemblance of the one now in existence in Bethlehem, said to be erected where our Saviour was born. "And thou Bethlehem, in the land of Juda, art not the least among the princes of Juda: for out of thee shall come a Governor, that shall rule my people Israel," Matt. ii. 6. At this moment, the ardent fervour of an oriental fancy could scarcely surpass, in its creations, the magnificent scene before me. The silvery sparkling of the burning lights, the golden glare of the lamps, chains, and picture frames; the rich yellow, topaz-like radiance that is shed around, and the deep mellow shadows, with the bold relief they afford, are truly exquisite. The two worshippers seem at their devotions, the one kneeling with his face buried in his hands; the other, altogether prostrated on the floor, add much to the awfulness of the scene. Brilliant and varied hues, striking objects, with strong lights and shadows, are blending their influence, with that of stillness, solemnity, and interesting associations. The light-hearted female has ceased her jocose remarks; the scene has subdued her hilarity, and a breathless silence reigns around. To the right is the spot intended to denote where the manger stood, and near it is an altar to mark the place where the Magi worshipped the Redeemer. "And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense, and myrrh," Matt. ii. 11. It is said that there are few spots pointed out to the pilgrim or visitor to the Holy Land, better authenticated than that of the nativity. It seems scarcely probable that the early Christians would altogether lose sight of its locality. According to history, a temple was erected over the spot, by the emperor Hadrian, about a hundred years before the present edifice was formed. Whether contempt or jealousy of the Christians led on the emperor to this undertaking, it would be hard to determine. Bethlehem, the birthplace of David, is represented by travellers to be a village beautifully situated on an eminence overlooking the Dead Sea, and the solitary wilderness of Engedi. The olive, the vine, and the fig tree flourish in the country around it; and from the high grounds may be seen the distant mountains of Moab and Idumea. Changing as the scene does, representing the shrine of the nativity, as it now exists, and then the celebration of mass by the Franciscan monks, the visitor gazes with astonishment and awe; but when, by imperceptible degrees, the whole, as if by magic, becomes lighted up with bewildering brilliancy, and the organ chants a solemn tune, his amazement is extreme. The Coronation of Queen Victoria.— This splendid representation cannot fail to interest the spectator; for though a sight of the ceremony is so much desired, few people, comparatively, can be present at a coronation. I am sometimes looking at the attractive personages congregated together on the canvass, and sometimes regarding the architecture and the services, the sermon, the oath, and the anointing; the investing with the royal robes, the putting on the crown, the presentation of the Holy Bible, the benediction, the enthronization, the homage, the communion, and the final prayers. But while I am noting down these remarks, the company are preparing to depart. I must now proceed to the Cos decorations of the venerable abbey of | I think of the recognition, the oblations, Westminster, as exhibited in the painting. They are both very effective, though appearing to some disadvantage, coming after the superior brilliancy of the scene which has so recently preceded them. The fixed position of the worshippers at their devotions, in the shrine of the nativity, is in strict keeping with the scene, and heightens the effect of the painting; but here, in the coronation, it is otherwise, for the motionless attitude of so many figures, imparts a monotonous, statue-like effect that is never altogether dissipated. There sits the queen in king Edward's chair, holding in her hands the royal sceptre, the ensign of power and justice; and the rod, the emblem of equity and mercy. The archbishop of Canterbury is placing the crown upon her head. At her right hand, stand the peers who have assisted at the ceremony, in their gowns of crimson velvet, and capes of ermine. At her left hand, stand the bishops, robed in black and white. In the box, on one side, are the royal family; and in the other parts the foreign ambassadors with their ladies, the peers and peeresses, the judges, the lord mayor, the sheriffs, maids of honour, officers, and other attendants. Hark! what a startling sound! A flourish of trumpets has announced that Victoria is crowned, and imagination hears the distant thunderings of the Tower guns, and the nearer acclamations of the people, "God save the Queen!" The thunder of the cannon has ceased, the clangor of the trumpet is still, and even now can I fancy that the voice of the archbishop is heard, as he thus addresses the queen: "Be strong and of good courage, observe the commandments of God, and walk in his holy ways; fight the good fight of faith, and lay hold on eternal life, that in this world you may be crowned with success and honour, and when you have finished your course, receive a crown of righteousness, which God, the righteous Judge, shall give you in that day. Amen." The company assembled are growing a little more talkative; some are speaking of the queen, some are pointing out the peers, while others are admiring the dresses and decorations so prodigallyspread out before them. The coronation is a striking and solemn ceremony, from the entrance into the cathedral to the recess. morama. THE COSMORAMA. The This then is the Cosmorama. little_book put into my hand tells me that I have eight different views to gaze on. The rope bridge of Penipé, in South America; the palace of Zenobia, at Palmyra; Constantinople during the conflagration in 1839; the palace of Versailles; general view of Rome; the park of Versailles; the lake of Thun, in Switzerland; and the village of Baden. Often and often have I reflected on the varied and almost endless gratifications which await us, both in the natural Truly, if our and artificial creation! harps are not on the willows; if our should be ever in our mouths. hearts are in tune, a song of thanksgiving The crowded city and the rural scene, The gifted properties on man bestowed. Though supplied with a book, giving some account of the different paintings, and furnished with paper on which to note down any suggestion that may occur to me, this passage is so dark, that I can neither read nor write legibly, without approaching the little windows, through which I must look to see the views. The rope bridge of Penipé is the first painting, and a striking one it is. The bridge of twisted rushes, with sticks laid across, covered with branches of trees for a flooring, is represented as stretching over the river Chambo, near the village of Penipé, from rock to rock, a distance of one hundred and twenty feet. To cross such a bridge, a strong head, a bold heart, and a steady foot must be necessary. I can fancy a timid person, following his Indian guide, while the violent oscillation of the bridge hanging in air, blanches his cheek, and makes his limbs tremble. Some say, and many things are more improbable, that the notion of suspension bridges arose from the rope bridges of South America. We need not, however, have travelled so far to make the discovery, as any spider would have furnished us with a model both scientific and secure. The palace of Zenobia is one of the principal remains of the city of Palmyra. The Corinthian style of architecture, with the vastness that characterized the Egyptian buildings, are both sufficiently apparent. Palmyra was the Tadmor of king Solomon, a magnificent city of Syria, the stupendous ruins of which are situated in the midst of a sandy and sterile desert, around which, on three sides, | mountains rise of considerable eminence. Zenobia was queen of Palmyra. Beautiful in person, and of extraordinary intellect, she united the refinement of the Grecian with the hardihood of the Roman character: this was her palace. In the pride of her power, she thought lightly of Rome; but Aurelian came as a conqueror, and her city was swept with the besom of destruction. Palmyra was a splendid city, afterwards a town of little note; at a still later date, it was an unimportant fortress, and now it is a mere miserable village. The costly ruins of its former greatness form a strange contrast to its present humiliation; for mud cottages now stand in the spacious court of the once splendid temple. "The owlet builds her nest in princely halls; Too plain-the royal robber has been there." As I gaze on the painting, it wonderfully improves in appearance: what was a mere picture, is now a real ruin, and in fancy I am standing in the midst of its mouldering magnificence. Mark the square blocks of stone through the principal portal, and the beautiful pillars, in the distance to the left, contrasted with the strength of the foreground. Palmyra tells a tale of other times, War and the whirlwind have alike despoiled her. Constantinople, during the conflagration of 1839, must have been an awful spectacle. The little device of introducing an apparent flame that bursts forth, flinging a frightful red glare on the city, and then, as suddenly subsides, involving the place in portentous gloom, is very effective. It gives a reality to the representation. What a dreadful calamity is an extensive fire! Three thousand seven hundred houses were destroyed. Despairing fathers, frantic mothers, shrieking children, bedridden and helpless old age, all at their wit's end. Alarm visited every house! Terror strided through the streets, and destruction in all directions raged abroad. The building at the entrance of the Bosphorus there is the seraglio, or palace of the sultan. To the right is the dome of Santa Sophia, the most celebrated mosque of the moslems; and yonder is Pera, where the foreign ambassadors, the Dragomans and Frank merchants reside. Visit Constantinople as you will, by the Dardanelles and sea of Marmora, by the Black Sea and the Bosphorus, by the plains of Thrace or the hills of Asia, she will always be seen to advantage. At present, the inhabitants of Constantinople follow the false prophet; but the Christian humbly believes that the Mohammedan crescent will yet wane before the Star of Bethlehem. In vain shall the enemies of the cross contend against almighty power; at the appointed time "The Lamb shall overcome them; for he is the Lord of hosts, and King of kings; and they that are with him are called, and chosen, and faithful," Rev. xvii. 14. The palace of Versailles is an admirable view. The building, trees, gardens, flowers, hedges, grass, and water, all are excellent. Years have passed since I looked on the real palace; but this representation of it brings it back to my gaze, as though it were just before me. The façade of one thousand nine lumns, and statues of marble and bronze, hundred feet, the projections, Ionic coare truly magnificent. The centre statue in the distance, represents Marcus Curtius leaping into the abyss, as a sacrifice for the good of his country, and the fountain on the left is the Fontaine de la Pyramide, formed of four basins, one rising above another. Every spectator will be interested by this view of the palace of Versailles. Such as have seen the original, will admire it for its correctness; and those who have not, will be spell-bound by its beauty and magnificence. A group of children have entered the place, to witness the wonders of the cos morama. They are peeping through | the little windows at the different views, full of joyous exclamation. With children pictures are always perfect. In happy ignorance of art, they see Let there be red, and blue, and green, and yellow enough in his brush, and a painter may calculate on the youthful world for his admirers. This general view of Rome takes not my fancy, though it will be full of interest to those who never saw a better. St. Peter's and the Vatican, with its colonnade, and obelisk, and fountain; the Pantheon, the Colosseum, and the Antonine and Trajan pillars, are objects which associations render attractive; but on so miniature a scale, they can scarcely be expected to be very effective. The road between the trees there would be accurately traced by the eye of a Roman Catholic; for it leads to that mother of churches, St. Giovanni Laterana, the oldest in Europe, wherein the is consecrated. The scene before me takes back the thought pope "To that proud capital, where Cesars found a home, When Rome was all the world, and all the world was Rome." The temple of Jupiter Stator, the ruins of the palace of the emperors, and the Fontana Paolina, the finest fountain in Rome, may all be clearly distinguished by those who have a knowledge of the once imperial_city. The Corso, the finest street in Rome, may also be traced, with the Quirinal palace, the towers of St. Maria Maggiore, and the receding waters of the river Tiber. Though the imperial city of Rome had not, like Athens, an altar inscribed "To the unknown God," yet did its citizens as ignorantly worship stocks and stones, as the people of Athens. They were wholly given up to idolatry. The park of Versailles, like the palace, is an object which at once arrests the attention; and the longer you gaze, the more are you disposed to linger on the scene before you. The foreground, fountains, with their margins of white marble, and groupes of bronze figures are very fine; and still more magnificent is the fountain of Latona, with the white marble figures on the red marble steps, surrounded by seventy-four gigantic The frogs spouting out crystal streams. spectator, unacquainted with the fable of Jupiter, metamorphosing the peasants of Lybia into frogs, for refusing refreshments to Latona, will be at a loss to make out what is signified by the scene. The canal there, more than four thousand feet long, crossed by one whose length is three thousand, forms a prominent feature in the representation. I could dwell on the particular points that afford me satisfaction; but all appear beautiful. The sky is bright, and the park is delightful. The palace and park of Versailles, most certainly, form one of the most attractive scenes in the world. The village of Baden, though presenting to the eye of the spectator a view of one of the most picturesque spots in all Syria, is to me one of the least impressive scenes of this exhibition. When the fierce and fiery beams of the summer sun drive away the inhabitants of Scanderoon from the marshy and unhealthy situation of their dwellings, they find an agreeable retreat in the village of Baden, where excellent fruits and good water await them. The aqueduct arches, the Santon's tomb, the minaret and dome of the mosque, the gulf of Ajazza, and the distant mountains of Lebanon, are not without interest; but so much are they eclipsed by several of the other scenes, that I will not dwell upon them. The lake of Thun, in Switzerland, is to me by far the most attractive representation of the cosmorama. It is enough to make the common-place spectator imaginative, and to inspire the poetic visitant with high-wrought visions of romantic beauty. To decide whether the mountains, the trees, or the skies are the most lovely, would be an arduous undertaking. If the sublime and beautiful were ever closely connected, they are so in these smiling valleys, these cultivated hills, and mighty mountains, whose cloudcapped, icy pinnacles are lost amid the skies. Well may such scenes be valued by the Switzer peasant! Well may they afford pleasure to him by day, and mingle with his dreams by night. "Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, The lake of Thun is more than seventeen hundred feet above the level of the sea, while the Niesen, Moine, Riger, and Jungfrau mountains lift their snowy heads thirteen thousand feet and more amid the clouds. All that is picturesque and fair in Alpine scenery seems here embodied. The river Aar, which runs below the spot whence this view is taken, descending from the Finster-Aar-horn, rolls along the base of the glaciers, collecting all their tributary waters, distributing them among the lakes of Thun and Brienta. It afterwards pursues a course somewhat circuitous to the Rhine on the German frontier. I must now bid adieu to the Cosmorama. In perambulating from one exhibition to another, of panoramas, dioramas, and cosmoramas; of architecture, statuary, painting, science, and literature-the thought intrudes itself, Oh that all who have talent, all who excel among mankind, would bear in mind whence their powers were derived, and would humbly adore the Giver of all good for the endowments with which he has favoured them in this world, and the revelation of his mercy through the Redeemer ! It was a desire of this kind that moved the spirit of Kirke White to fling upon his paper the following beautiful, though somewhat florid thoughts: "Oh! I would walk A weary journey to the farthest verge LOSERS OF SOULS. ALL they who wrong others to enrich themselves; all that rob upon the highway, pick pockets, or break open houses; all that forge deeds, forswear themselves, or suborn others to do so in law suits; all that willingly cheat, defraud, or overreach their neighbours, in buying or selling their goods; all that pilfer and steal, or so much as withhold and conceal what they know belongs to another; all that are able, yet will not pay what they owe, but lie in prison, or hide themselves, or at least pretend they cannot do it; all that smuggle the king's customs, or corrupt his officers, and by that means keep to themselves what the law hath made due to him; all that refuse or neglect to relieve those of their relations or others, which are really in need, and so withhold from them the maintenance which God hath appointed for them all that oppress and gripe poor workmen in their prices, or servants in the wages which are due to them; all that work upon people's necessities, and extort from them more than the laws of the land allow of; all that follow such unlawful trades as tend to the corrupting of youth, and to the nourishing of vice and wickedness in the world; all that by false weights or measures, by lying, over reckoning, or by any trick, impose on those they deal with; and all that are conscious to themselves that, by these and such like unlawful ways, they have got other men's money, goods, or estates in their hands, and yet will not restore them again to their right owners as far as they are able:-these all as plainly lose their souls for this world as if they should make a solemn contract or bargain with the devil that, upon condition they may have such and such things at present, he shall have their souls for ever; for so he will, and leave them in the lurch too: he will serve them in their own kind; as they cheated others, he will cheat them, and put them off with nothing but dreams and fancies, instead of the great profit and advantage they expected.-Bishop Beveridge. THE REDEEMER. In the fulness of the time appointed, God was manifested in the flesh, to clear the debt of all that believe in him, many of whom were gone home to glory on credit. He did not pay this debt by instalments; but all at once. He offered himself once, only one payment for Old Testament saints, as well as those under the New Testament, and to the end of time. There were pipes on each side of the altar of the burnt offering, to convey the blood to great basins, till they were full. I imagine that one of these basins might be said to belong to the Old Testament saints, to which the merits of the sacrifice of Christ on the cross run through the pipe of God's appointment back as far as Abel and Adam, till they were full of salvation: and the other basin, so far from Calvary, as the end of time, receiving the efficacy of the same atonement, through the golden pipes of gospel ordinances.- Christmas Evans. |