The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1846-07-11
The Sacred Mountains; Mount
Tabor.
BY THE REV. J. t. BEApLEY.

What strange contrasts this earth of ours
presents. Ii seems to be the middle spot be.
tween heaven and hell, and to partake of the
character of both. Beings from both are
found moving over lis surface, and scenes
from both are constantly occurring upon it.
The glory from one and the midnight shades
from the other meet along its bosom, and the
songs ofangels and the shrieks of fiends 20
up from the same spot. MONDAY and mid
night are not more opposite than the scenes
which are constantly passing before our eyes.
The tembe of God stands beside n brothel,
and the place of prayer is separated only by a
single dwelling from the shell ofthe gambler.
Truth and falsehood walk side by side
through our streets and vice aud virtue
meet and pass every hour of the day. The
hut of the starving stands in the shadow of
the palace of the wealthy, and the carriage
of Dives every day throws the dust offs gilt
tering wheels over the tattered garments of
Lazarus Health and sickness lie down in
the same apartment; joy and agony look out
ofthe same window; and hope and despair
dwell under the same roof. The cry of the
newborn infant and the groan of the dying
rise together from the same dwelling; the flu
neral treads close on the heel of the bridal
party; and the tones ofthe lutte and viol have
scarcely died away before the requiem for
the dead comes following after. Oh! the
beautiful and deformed, the pure and corrupt,
Joy and sorrow, ecstacics and agonies, life
and death, are strangely blent on this rest
less planet of ours.
But the past and future present rs strange
contrasts as the present. What different g.
vents have TRANSFERRED OH the same spot
Where the smoke ofthe Indians wigwam u
rose, and the stealthy tread of the wolf and
panther was heard over the autumn leaves ut
twilight, the population of New York now
surCes along. Where once Tyre the queen
stood. fishermen are spreading their nets on
the desolate rocks, and the bright waves are
rolling over it's marble columns. In the emp
ty apartments of Edom the fox makes his den
and the dust of the desert is sitting over the
forsaken ruins ofPalmyra. The owl boots in
the ancient halls ofkngs, and the wind ofthe
summer night makes sad music through the
rents of once gorgeous palaces. The Arab
spurs his steed along the streets of ancient
or scornfully stands on Mount
Zion and curls his lips at the pilgrim press
ing YEARLY to the sepulchre OF the Saviour.
NIuezzin's voice rings over the bones of the
prophets, and the desert wind heaps the dust
above the foundations of the seven churches
If Asia. Oh, how good and evil, light and
darkness chase each other over the world.
But il may be asked what has this fit of mu-
sing to do with Mount Tabor. IL came {
lpon me unawares, and was suggested by two
different scenes my imagination drew upon
hat mountain. ts.-s t... $50.
Forty-seven years ago this month, form
vas seen standing on Mount Tabor with
which the world has since become familiar
/ was a bright morning, and as he sat on ,
lis steed in the clear sunlight, his eye rested
m scene in the vale below, which was sub .
ime and appalling enough to quicken the
,ulsations ofthe calmest heart. That form S
vas Napoleon Bonaparte, and the scene be- I
6re him the fierce aud terrible Battle OF I
,Iount Tabor. From Nazareth, where the c