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Under the laden tree, with heavy coat all furrowed by snow, with old gray hood and long grey beard, with ample arms hugging tight the tree that only for the children knows seed time and harvest all at once, with that young old face of his lighted up by the kindest blue eyes in all the world, stood Kriss Kindel, wishing you a "A merry Christmas and happy New Year," while above all was the star surmounting a shield, bearing "Peace on Earth." O that shield! What darts of sorrow and discontent and all uncharitableness would it not ward off? O that star! making you wish anew for the purest of gold, the sweet spices, and incense for an offering to the Child the King.

The next evening, while the snow, which had been softly falling all the day, lay in downy outlines upon the bare brown branches beyond the windows, and the flakes in spiral groups went waltzing through the air, the little ones gathered about the glowing hearth to hear again the story of the first Christmas-tide; then with a farewell chorus that rang out cheerfully the hope for next Christmas song and joy, began to hold tiny hands for the dropping fruits. How they came down! It was like nutting time; not like the May bloom that comes in showers of fluttering pink and white, but like golden autumn shaking down a splendid

sunset.

The little feet made sundry trips from tree to table, where the shining harvest was gathered in; now rejoicing over some new beauty the leaves had hid; now tasting a forgotten candy in the depths of the never-failing horns of plenty, until last of all they bore between them a bright little banner that showed you the aged Simeon with folded hands and eyes of faith, bending before the Infant of Days, while "Peace be with you," went twining around the folds held by baby fingers.

So let it be, little ones! And as I look at the empty tree before me and think

of your little busy hands lying in the perfect rest of childhood's slumber; the shut eyelids on little flushed cheeks, and the hush of childhood's voices behind the sweet baby mouth, and then again at the tree, standing in its native grace, so many thoughts come crowding. It came from the forest where the snow had fallen around its feet and in its highest bough; it was not the growth of a day nor a year, yet it came with its voice of the free air, its present winter song among the glossy leaves, and its echoes of cool, shady places in the summer time, to bear its "strange sweet fruit" for us at Christmas-tide. The branches have a deeper meaning, because of the former laden bough, do you know that little children? And the ripened fruit ever gives a yielding grace to the branch that the blossom alone cannot bring. It came among us and silently told its own story of the shepherds' watch and the song of the angels, and we must not feel that its song is wholly ended; its lesson is not over, for the " Peace, peace," here and there among its branches, is not merely an echo.

Flowers.

BY REV. P. 8. DAVIS, D.D.

PART II.

Conceding the beneficial effects that may be said to flow from the cultivation of flowers in a worldly point of view, what we wish to insist upon is that nothing can find its true meaning outside of Christianity, which alone can sanctify our tastes and make our joy in them perennial, and that in all this we have higher incentives than the old Greek had when he taught his boy to study and admire the works of Phidias.

Even refined paganism taught that the highest beauty culminated in the service of the gods, and if they were impelled to invent deities as the patrons of flowers, why should we ignore Him who "clothes the lilies of the field?" Indeed it is wonderful how flowers have entered into the religious life of the world, and how in all heathenism we have dim adumbrations or shadowings of what is told us by revelation. Into

this field I may not enter, but let me give one instance. Zoroaster tells us that the stem of the rose had no thorns until the entrance of Ahrimanus (the evil one) into the world. Here we have evidently a stray gleam from the burning bush, for this is just the truth that the Bible declares. When God made man, he placed him in an Eden of beauty, and when man fell he involved his whole heritage. The earth was cursed for his sake and doomed to bring forth thorns and thistles. Every one who contends with weeds and briars, feels that this curse is a dread reality, that reaches away down to the very soil on which we tread. Flowers, then, comport with innocence, and thorns with sin.

But now this law of sin and death is to be reversed. A Deliverer is promised, by whom the curse is to be removed, and when His triumph is predicted it is in this language: "The wilderness and the solitary places shall be made glad * * the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose. It shall blossom abundantly and rejoice even with joy and singing; the glory of Lebanon shall be given unto it, the excellency of Carmel and Sharon, they shall see the glory of the Lord and the excellency of our God." Is. 35: 2.

If then the restoration is to be as much of a historical reality as the curse is, the bloom of Eden must be renewed, and the evil one will not be permitted to say, "Although man has been redeemed, I hold his heritage." He will not be able to say, "The blighted Eden spoken of in the first part of your Bible was a fact, but the new heavens and the new earth described by St. John, in the last part of your Bible, and promised as the restored paradise into the which the redeemed shall enter, must ever remain a fiction." No, even the plants and flowers of the earth are to " see the excellency of our God," and this thought is one to which the Christian ought not to be indifferent.

It is remarkable that He by whom all this is to be effected, has many names given to Him from the world of plants, as "the Root and Stem of Jesse," "the Branch," "the Balm in Gilead," "the Rose of Sharon," and "the Lily of the Valleys." And it is further remarkable that in the Song of Solomon, the love of

Christ for His Church is set forth under the image of a lover in a garden of flowers. But I would yet call attention to the fact that the use of flowers in religious decoration is spoken of in the Bible. The high priest's dress, and some parts of the tabernacle, with its sacred furniture, were decorated with the blossom of the pomegranate and the almond, and as this was done by Divine directions, no one dare cavil at it.

He whose lips were touched with a live coal from off God's altar, and who spoke as he was moved by the Holy Ghost, uttered this prediction: "The glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee; the fir tree, the pine tree and the box together, to beautify the place of my sanctuary, and I will make the place of my feet glorious." This prediction has been fulfilled in the custom of the churches that adorn their houses of worship on festival days. And this custom is no longer confined to the old German and English churches, but is coming into vogue among those who do not lay so much stress upon the regular festivals. The late centennary celebration of Methodism in this country witnessed many a floral offering, and at the meeting of the united Assemblies of the Presbyterian Church, held in Philadelphia, the sacred edifice was festooned with evergreens, and their pulpit and communion table were crowned with flowers. I like my Methodist and Presbyterian brethren all the better for that. And if any long-faced croaker should speak to me of it as an evidence of a decline in what he would be apt to call their "vital godliness," I would respectfully differ from him; but if he should go farther, and seriously say that they were worshipping flowers, it would take all the little grace I have to keep from thinking him a donkey that had been feeding on thistles all his life. But even if it were established that a man must make an idol of everything brought into our churches, it were better then to adorn our chancels with flowers, than to litter them up with hats, overcoats, umbrellas and muddy gum shoes, which you would expect any refined pastor to leave outside of your parlors.

A minister of our own church once preached a sermon against the timehonored custom of decorating churches, because, as he said, it was hostile to

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tivities and associations. I like Mr.

than I like some of his smart but erratic sermons. I think if any one could be found with such a scrofulous mind as to object to a bunch of God's innocent flowers on His own altar, one might say to him what John Calvin said to the only person he ever heard object to the repetition of the Lord's prayer, "Poor creature!" You can imagine such a one at his public devotions. You would be apt to see him with any of our modern hymn-books in hand, standing on Jordan's stormy banks, and casting

"A wishful eye

To Canaan's fair and happy land,
Where his possessions lie."
You would hear of a "land of pure
delight," and he would sing

"There everlasting spring abides,
And never withering flowers,
Death, like a narrow sea, divides

spirituality; as if there was something essentially spiritual in bare walls. He Beecher's bouquets on his pulpit more took the text, "Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness." Unfortunately, he found it in the book of Chronicles, where we are told God built the most gorgeous temple the world ever saw, and the text itself means in the original, Worship the Lord with the ornaments of the sanctuary." If he had quoted the whole song from which his text was taken, he would have read these words, "Then shall the trees of the wood sing out at the presence of the Lord." Men will find out one of these days that it is a terrible slander to say that our most holy Christianity is to be represented only by what is poor and ugly and mean, and if that is only done, the spirituality may be taken for granted. God ordered the richest and best of everything for His temple of old. The wise men from the East brought gifts, gold, frankincense and myrrh to the infant Jesus. When the palm-branches were strewed in the Saviour's way, it was the Pharisees that protested, and not Christ Himself. The woman who poured the precious ointment made of the nard plant at the Saviour's feet was commended by Him, and built herself a monument lasting as the gospel itself. It was not the most spiritual of the disciples, but a gold-loving Judas, who said, "Why was all this waste made?" The early Christians had a great many flowers in their services on the festival days. Whitsuntide, or White-Sunday, received its name, as is generally supposed, from the white dresses and flowers used on that day. These things could not then, nor could they now, add anything to Christ, any more than Mary's ointment could, but He can add something to them, by sanctifying our tastes and associating them with that which is holy, and thus symbolizing the Paradise of God, which will re-appear whenever the creation shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption unto the glorious liberty of the sons of God.

Tell me not, then, that the gold does not sanctify the temple. It is enough for me to know that the temple sanctifies the gold. I love flowers, and I love them all the more because, as I hope, I love God, and I do not see why they should be excluded from our holiest ac

That heavenly land from ours." Oh, yes, his "land of pure delight" is full of flowers, by Divine appointment, of course, and it is, perhaps, well that he can't see all, for he might be impelled to commit suicide by drowning, for—

"Could he but climb where Moses stood, And view the landscape o'er, Not Jordan's stream nor death's cold flood, Could keep him from that shore." See! anxious to get over where the flowers are, but he don't want any such superstitious nonsense here, and could hardly pray, "Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven." There are such jewels of consistency in the world, who, though they think flowers very wicked, do not object to thorns, especially if they stick them into some parson's side.

My own opinion is, that the greatest enemies of our holy religion are not open revilers, but those professors who look upon our Heavenly Father as a merciless tyrant, and His service as a series of inexorable hardships. They may profess to be the antipodes of the Carmelite monks, but they differ from them only in placing purgatory on this side of the grave. They represent Christian duty as a heavy premium we must all pay in this world, as an insurance against fire in the next; and they would never take a policy themselves if they were not afraid of a future scorching.

These people make religion seem harsh and forbidding. They drive all the best music out of the churches into the opera houses, and then storm at their children if they go after it. And such people ought to have in reality, as they have to all intents and purposes, two sets of eyes, one set to "roll up in meeting," and another set with which to look at God's green earth and starry heavens. As it is, their Christian eyes see nothing but skulls in the rose bushes and cross bones in the skies. With them Christianity is a dry, hard, harsh, abstract theory, whereas it is, in truth, a new life, that ought to underlie our natural life and give tone and color to the whole constitution of the world in which God has placed us. For no one is bound to give up anything as a Christian which he ought not to be ashamed of as a man. And Christianity does not ignore any of our relations, or any enjoyments or pleasures growing out of them; it simply sanctifies them in such a way as to make them truly joyous. Nay, more, in the second Adam we may gain everything we lost in the first; and even the outward world, instead of being irredeemable, is to be restored finally, though it may be through catastrophe, to its pristine glory, and claimed for the service of God. His grace and power are to be as far reaching as the blight of sin. He came that even the matter of which the outward world is composed -not simply the coarser parts of it, not simply what we see at Golgotha and Calvary, jagged rocks and bare earth wet with blood; not simply the rude wood to which He was nailed; not simply the wormwood that He drank, and the thorns with which He was pierced, but that all things, the richest and best of everything should praise Him; yea, that even the aroma of the plant and the fragrance of the rose should be brought to Him, (Luke xxiv. 1), not to purchase favor indeed, but as the offerings of joy, and the ointment of grateful love poured out at His feet. The Christian who does not appreciate this fact, comes short of his high privileges, if not of his most solemn duty.

These are my views, which, however, none of you are compelled to adopt. I would not force even my roses upon you. If you prefer thorns, you pay your money and can take your choice.

Dottings from the Old World.

BY N. C. S.

LEIPSICK, EUROPE, December 1st, 1874.

Sometimes incidents, which in themselves have little or no significance, are indelibly impressed upon the mind by the attending circumstances and the connection in which they occur. My memory recalls at this time with peculiar vividness two such incidents, which occurred during my travels in Italy.

One of them is associated with the Piazza d'Espagna or Spanish Square, one of the largest and finest in Rome. On it stands a lofty marble column, supporting fa bronze statue of the Virgin Mary, which represents her in the attitude of pronouncing a blessing upon the eternal city. The base of the column is adorned by four marble statues of life-size, representing Moses, David, Isaiah and Ezekiel. The whole is designed to commemorate the fact, that on December 8th, 1854, Pius IX. proclaimed the immaculate conception of the Virgin Mary. Near by is the celebrated Propaganda, where the famous Perrone is Professor of Dogmatics, and where young men of every clime and country are educated and trained for the priesthood. A series of magnificent steps connects this piazza with the Via Felice. One morning as I was coming down these steps, my attention was attracted by an old woman, who had a number of books upon a shelf in front of her. Curiosity prompted me to go and examine what she had. To my surprise I found she was selling Bibles, Testaments and Psalters; some in Italian, others in the original. The cheap prices, at which she was selling them, were evidence enough that she was in the employ of the British Bible Society. Had this occurred in any other country, I might never again have thought of this woman. But the fact, that she was selling Bibles just there, made her to me an index of the change which has taken place in the late dominions of the Church. Whenever I think of it, my mind turns on the difference between the old and the new order of things. For as long as the Pope was

in possession of his temporal power, Bibles coming from England were invariably confiscated by the Custom House officers. Sometimes they were smuggled into the States of the Church, an instance in which Protestantism perhaps justified the means by the end. Perrone says, that Rosa Madiai distributed 1,100 copies of the Italian Bible; but she finally suffered imprisonment for her zeal, and only regained her freedom through the efforts of the Evangelical Alliance. And if such was the success which attended the efforts of one, who labored with the prospect of incarceration before her eyes, what results may not be expected in our day, when the publications of the British Bible Society are freely sold throughout the whole kingdom of Italy? If the monument upon the Spanish Square reflects glory upon Pius IX., how much more does the woman selling Bibles upon the Spanish steps reflect glory upon King Victor Emanuel!

The other incident occurred on the way from Naples to Pompeii. My companion and I had taken a third class car, which is perhaps the best way of studying the character of the common people. Besides it gives one the reputation of being a poor man, which is certainly a very desirable thing while traveling in Italy. Near us sat a man, who evidently belonged to the lowest dregs of society, for his pantaloons were so deficient as to leave the greater part of his legs bare. He employed his time in watching us, and in pocketing old cigar stumps that happened to lie upon the floor. He gazed at us very intently while we were examining our maps and guide books. As soon as we laid these aside, he pulled out of his pocket a paper, which he handed to us. It stated that he was employed to work on the railroad, and hence allowed to ride free of charge. Several others asked him to let them see the paper; but he would show it to no one else. At the time his conduct appeared to me inexplicable; but the mystery was solved when I read in one of Prof. Hase's books, that in the late kingdom of Naples only two persons out of a hundred were able to read. The man was evidently proud of his paper, and hence only willing to show it to such as he thought capable of reading it.

Facts like the above speak louder than words. They show what Roman Catholicism is in countries where the reforming influence of Protestantism has not been felt. That the Romish Church feels their force, is evident from the attempts which she is constantly making to explain them away. But the odds are against her. The regulation requiring the services of the sanctuary to be held in the Latin language, is enough to excite suspicion. It shows how little she is disposed to encourage the use of the living languages in religious matters. Gregory IX. caused a prohibition to be issued in the year 1229, which forbids translations of the Old and New Testaments, and prohibits the laity from having any portions of the same with the exception of the Psalms and the parts contained in the breviaries. More than a century later John Wickliff was condemned on the charge of heresy, because he had put the Sacred Scriptures in an English dress. The Council of Trent raised the Latin Vulgate, with all its errors, to the dignity of a sole authoritative canonical text, although the Professors at Tübingen in spite of this decree, make use of all the corrections and improvements which have been made by men like Tischendorf. In the Bull Unigenitus issued 1713, Clement XI. condemns the propositions of P. Quesnell, one of which recommends the perusal of the Sacred Scriptures. By some the utterance has been made that the Church would be better off if no Bible were in existence, which, it has been well said, must sound like blasphemy in the ears of a Christian laity.

On the other hand, it cannot be denied that some Popes have encouraged Bible-reading. Nevertheless the Church is rather afraid to put the Bible into the hands of the people; because experience has taught her how difficult it is to retain the fidelity of those who find in the Scriptures a picture of Christianity so altogether different from that which confronts them in the bosom of the Church. When the common layman finds no definite injunctions concerning the worship of Mary and the Saints, concerning purgatory, oral confession and masses for the dead, he may be tempted to exclaim as one of the Bishops is said to have done: As often as I read the Bible, I find in it a reli

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