Weekly Trinity journal., 1857-09-12
TRINITY JOURNAL.
[From the Knickcrbockcr Magazinc.]
Tent Life i'm the Holy Land.
BY WM. G. rRIME.


Let us follow the author of Tent Life in the
Holy Land to the Garden of Gethscmanc and
witness the effect which its remembered sacred
scenes had upon his mind
1t was at the very foot of the Mount of Oh
ives yet elevated some thirty or forty feet, per-
haps more. above the brook Kedron. We passed
around it, to the rear or mountain side, and found
low door in the wall, at which we knocked.
: 1t opened, and a Latin monk, habitcd in the
dark robe of the Franciscans, badc us enter, and
bowing our heads very low, as all must do per
force and as all should do on entering spot like
this we stepped within the hallowcd enclosure
of Gethsemanc.
1T is a simple garden, laid out in beds, bor-
tered with lavender, among the old olivetrees.
| An arbor or trcllis-Work on one side supports Il
large vine of the passilora. In the walls are
marked fourteen stations for prayer. 1t was 81
lent and we were alone. The good father van
ishcd to his cell in the corner, as il aware that
we desired no guide to tell us the story that has
thrilled the heart Of man in every land ana age
the saddcst and sublimest story on all the rolls
of eternity.
Verify he was right. The whispering leaves
of the olive-trees told us the story the winds
that swept over the lofty batlemcnts of Mount
Moriah, three hunderd feet above us, told the
story the blue, far sky above the mount of Oh
ives. the sky He Glove with his departing glory.
our longing gaze, told the story the heavy beat
ing of our hcarts--slow, solemn beating-we
could hear them in the Stiffness of the garden,
told the story of the bloody passion, and the ag-
ouy that made The crown of thorns and piercing
nails as nothing altcrward.
4 In the blue sky lar up above us n solitary ca
gle floatcd on the air above the deserted shrlnes
of the temple of the Lord, and on the sides of
Moriah, among the MOsem graves, some women,
dressed in white, sat by the tombs and wcpt.--
Bat no voice of human grief or human joy reach
ed the deep valley to disturb the profound still
ness OF The garden of the Passion The olives
on the mountain waved their flashing branches
in the gentle breeze, but those within the enclos-
ure scarcely moved. The lavender, that bloom
| ed with the utmost prolusion, made the atmos-
phcre heavy with perfume, as we sat down OH the
ground and cndcavorcd to realize the mid ght
scene of the agony and the betrayal.
Il need not say that the garden of Gethsemane
was favoritc spot with slne during my stay in
Jerusalem, and that scarcely day passsd with
cut finding me seated under the old olive trees
within its inclosure. Here over and again, !
read the accounts Of that memorable night and
of the suffering Of the Man our God. Here saw
the declining sun 60 down behind the battlements
Of Moriah, and here not unirt qucntly the round
moon coming up over the holy summit of Oil
vet slvcrcd the leaves of the old trees, and shed
that rad ance on the spot in which, best Of all, |
could realize the scene that 50 thrills the hearts
of Christian men,
Did the moon shine on that last night of the
life of the Lord before the sacrifice? ? Did the
full moon in whose light young maidens love to
hear the words Of young love, behold that love
which would not put away the cup of agony,
though countless angels stood ready to seize the
shalice and dash it down to hell
= | never thonght of il before. In all the scenes
of all the centuries that | have imagined the
: moon behodng and Of which | have sriven
tet in tInea
cold. calm rays never before imagined that on
that still orb in the blue sky of Judca, the tear
dimmcd eyes Of the Lord gazcd through the rust
ling leaves of Gethscmane.
20 friend of mine in your old home by the
: distant Hudson, where in grand nights Of west
ern moon-shne, or STILL calm starlight, we nave
sat together on the rocks and asked the hosts Of
heaven to tell us stories of the Chaldeans that
worshipped them on plains of Orient o friend !!
look out on the sky tonight the holy sky, the
radiant sky whose azure might bent the hoors OF
heaven and know. of q verify, beyond doubt,
beyond peradventure, that on those stars, those
very shining groups, on white Capella, naming
Sirius on the brow OF Orion, and the cold star of
the pole, the weary eyes of the houseless wander
er who was yet God, rested in childhood above
the ancient Nile, or when as a boy he climbed the
hills of Nazareth, or when in those cold Syrian
nights lie walked the long way from Galllee, or
when lie slept in the dewy air OF Olivet with
the stones OF the hill side for pillow to Him
who had no other on which to lay Ills head.
Never again tell me it is childish TO love the
moonlight and the stars. Sole objects in all the
universe on which may look with perfect con.
Gdence that He looked on them, yea aud with a
longing for the heaven beyond them, which He
knew His home, aud which ] but boubtingly
dare call mine, ! will gaze on them i'll all the
nights of my vanderings on earth, and sleep qul-
ct sleep. when you shall lay me where they will
shine on my covering