Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1851-09-18
Tbe Family Gtrtlt.
The Three Gardens /:


EDEN, GErHsMANE, AND THE GARDEN OF THE SEPuLcHRE.
Twas morning in Eden. In the far East the
majestic king Of day might have been seen ap-
preaching, passing on and on, till at length he
seemed to pause in his trackless path to wonder
and 10 admire, the scene below-a scene of love-
illness and beauty, which the fancy scarce can
picture, much less the pen faithfully depict.
Flowers of far richer hues, than ever graced
the hanging gardens of the East, filled every
pathway, and bloomed on every hillside. On
each tiny leaf sparked the fresh dew drop-Na-
ture's purest diamond. And on every zephyr
was borne the sweetest fragrance of rosy bowers
and orange groves far, far away. Trees laden
with delicious fruits, bent their low branches to
the ground inviting repast; and noble Forest
trees rose majestic from this field of beauty,
seeming to vie with each other as they sent forth
their wide spreading branches toward the blue
vault above. Around the fluted cypress and the
broad-leaved plane tree twlned the thousand ten
drilled vine. Companies of sweet songsters
skipped from bower to bower, from grove to
grove, each warbling forth in its morning carol,
the praise of its Maker.
Amid profusion of foliage of richest green,
were fountains whose dark waters sparkled in
the bright rays of the rising sun, presenting
scene of surprising loveliness. And the little,
laughing riiI, as it went dancing on over its peb-
bly, bed, mingled in the choral strain. In the
dim distance rose lofty mountains, whose tops
lowered far up towards the blue ETHEREAL. Be-
meath, flowed the majestic river. On the sill
very bosom of the placid lake sailed the grace
ful swan, and happy existence filled its waters.
In Eden everything was beautiful. Nature
had there profusely scattered her choicest gifts
to charm the eye and crafty the taste of man
As yet no traces of sin had marred its beauty
Everything was pure and perfect, as it had pro.
ceeded from the hand of GoD But alas! mar
sins and Eden falls from its high estate. Thorn
F.. less roses there no longer bloom--its loveliness
and beauty are fed forever.
The scene is changed. Night has thrown he
mantle o'er the face of earth, and d adewy fresh
ness fills the silent air. No mist, no cloud, n,
stain appears to obscure or dim the splendor o
the rising moon. The canopy above is studded
with brillants, and all is hushed and still.
At this quiet hour, let US wander in the gar
den of Gethsemane, amid its winding paths, be
meath the shade Of its olives. Why, in tn
midst of such beauty. does feeling of awe, a
if treading consecrated ground, steal over us
Why does the sight of this spot send such
thrill of sadness through the heart, until it seem
as if the warm life-blood through the vein
would cease to course? Is it not that there
firmly treasured in the hearts deep recesses tn
memory Of a scene, which here long since tran
spired? This garden was the scene of Oh
Savior's agonies. 1t was here that lie knet o
the night of His betrayal, and offered TO Hi
Father in Heaven the agonizIng prayer" If
be possible, let this cup pass from me-" 1t wa
Here ti1ar-ln the anguish OF His spirit-H
sweat as it were, great drops of blood. 1t wa
here His spirit bowed beneath the crushin,
weight of a worlds sin. Here was our Savo
sorrowful even unto DEATH
As He knelt alone on the cold sod on tha
eventful night, all nature seemed to shrink /
horror from scene so sad, so melting. Th
fair moon, which till now had shone SO brightly
fastened in dsmay to hide itself behind tn
fast gathering clouds And each little star, O
II unable to gaze upon signs of woe so hear
rending, closed its bright eyes Of fire. and dal k
ness reigned. This was indeed scene {
which both Heaven and earth might wonde
and melt in tears OF pity. Well might ange
shudder and veil their faces and tune their harI
to most mournful strains, when the Lord of Gil
ry PROSTATE lies in Gethsemane. And well ma
we, whose sins mingled in that bitter cup, wi
tears Of slncerest pentence, and with profoun
est alteration, fall down and worship Him wi
purchased our salvation at so infinite price.
Fain would we nger yet longer within tn
sacred enclosure, though sad, too sad the plea
ure it affords us-but it may not be- Slow
and thoughtfully we retrace our steps, and pa
sing in silence the judgement hail. the scour
and the cross, approach the Garden of the Sc
uchre.
Here stately trees throw their funeral shat
and solemn silence breathes subduing inf
ence. Hewn from rock where dark shade
Gall is seen the tomb of the Son of GoD, W