their own veins, rather than "betray the innocent blood." But it is too late! Not all the host of heaven can wipe out the crimson stains that tracked their guilty pathway through the world.

I would say something about the Abbey of Westminster, though there is a mist around it that almost hides it from my view; and I could prate awhile about the bridges and the river; but the cold wind affects me, and old men are somewhat compelled to think of the pains and penalties of to-morrow, as well as of the pleasures of to-day. Much as may be said against the lumbago and rheumatism, they are excellent things in their way, for though they pinch us much, they preserve us from more; the remembrance of them does us good. They resemble the painted boards which are set up on forbidden ground, "Man traps and spring guns set here."

I will now make the best of my way down the spiral staircase. It was not, I hope, highmindedness that brought me up, and I trust that highmindedness will not accompany me down; for sure I am, a proud man, seeing that he has so little cause for pride, and so much cause for humility, is not more vain than he is foolish. As John Bunyan's shepherd's boy sings

"He that is down needs fear no fall;

He that is low, no pride;

He that is humble ever shall

Have God to be his guide."

Never are we so safe as when we are lowly in heart, seeking in all things that holy and Divine influence, which can alone defend us from temptation, and deliver us from evil; "casting downTM imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ," 2 Cor. x. 5.

PANORAMAS

OF JERUSALEM

AND THEBES.

THE walk to this place has a little tired me, and a flight of steps is not so easily ascended by an old man after a long walk as before it. I must sit me down on the seat here, in the centre, to rest awhile. A goodly concourse of people are assembled, as anxious as I am, no doubt, to enjoy a peep at the Panorama.

Panoramic paintings afford a much greater degree of pleasure to the common observer, though not to the artist and the connoisseur, than is usually derived from the most finished specimens of the best masters; and this pleasure is, of course, much increased when the subjects they represent are of peculiar interest.

The very name of Jerusalem calls forth associations which have been familiar to us from the years of our childhood. No wonder, then, that a panoramic representation of the "Holy City" should be an object of general attraction.

It is an excellent custom, before witnessing an interesting spectacle, to make some preparation to

turn it to advantage; for the want of this preparation, perhaps, many have felt something like disappointment in visiting the panorama of Jerusalem. Many have been totally unacquainted with the history of the fearful changes which have taken place in the city; and, for want of reflection, have expected to see that Jerusalem of olden time, which was to be destroyed, and of which, according to the prophetic words of the Redeemer, not one stone is left upon another. To such visitors the unexpected, and, at first view, confused pile of yellowish-white stone walls, gateways, monasteries, convents, churches, mosques, domes, and minarets, is far from being satisfactory. Not that the scene wants attractions, but that it is not what they expected to see.

It is probable that very many of the visitors of the panorama have felt a painful sense of their limited knowledge of the Holy Scriptures; their recollection of events has been confused, and they have imagined that all around them knew more than themselves; neither is it improbable that this circumstance has led many afterwards to their Bibles, to become better informed of those events with which the mind of every Christian should be familiar.

Th first view of a panorama is usually so absorbing, that the printed description of it is rarely read by the visitor, until he becomes a little weary with the exhibition: it is then glanced at,

here and there, and put by, with the determination to read it through afterwards, at a time, in fact, when the reading of it, so far as regards the panorama, will be useless.

Jerusalem, though fallen from its high estate, though shorn of its glory, cannot fail to be very attractive to all who feel interest in the stupendous events of by-gone days. No wonder, then, that a representation of it, as it now stands, should have drawn together old and young, to satisfy their curiosity in gazing on the mingled splendour and desolation which now characterize the city once "beloved by God."

A place that has seventeen times been ravaged with fire and sword, and all the ruthless desolation of relentless warfare, cannot be looked upon without emotion. Here, the Jews have fought to defend their hallowed city, their holy temple, and the ark of the covenant. Here, the victorious cohorts of the Romans, with resistless fury, have broken down the strong walls of defence, and smitten the people of God with the edge of the sword. Here, legions of Saracens, like devouring locusts, have spread desolation around; and here, also, deluded men, calling themselves Christians, have shed their blood freely as water, in what they called " a holy war." On this spot the Assyrian, the Babylonian, the Egyptian, the Parthian, the Persian, and the Turk, have vied with each other in rapine and slaughter.