Page images
PDF
EPUB

hideous rite may owe its origin to some vague and feeble striving after an uncomprehended good.

The desire expressed by Abraham when he stood up from before his dead, and spake unto the sons of Heth, is the natural instinct of all: "Give me possession of a buryingplace with you, that I may bury my dead out of my sight." "Out of sight," that is the common end, but the means to that end are as varied as the nations that seek it. The simple enclosing of the body in stone or earth seems to have been the earliest form of burial; and the most terrible of threats or prophecies was that of Jeremiah against Jehoiakim:-" he shall be buried with the burial of an ass, drawn and cast forth beyond the gates of Jerusalem." To sleep with their fathers in that place which later Jews have finely termed, "the house of the living," was the desire of the Patriarchs. "I will lie with my fathers," said Jacob to Joseph, "and thou shalt carry me out of Egypt, and bury me in their burying-place."

The devotion with which Rizpah, the daughter of Aiah, watched over her slaughtered sons, and suffered "neither the birds of the air to rest on them by day, nor the beasts of the field by night," has often been told by the painter and sung by the poet. How natural we all feel that watch to be: and yet her jealous vigil was not more "natural" to her and to us, than is the strongly contrasting custom of the Parsee mothers and fathers to them! The Times of last year has given a graphic account of a visit to a Parsee burying-place, known as the Towers of Silence. "These towers," says the writer, "erected on a hill which rises above the city of Bombay, are five in number, and are built of the hardest black granite, covered with white chunam. The oldest and smallest of the five was constructed two hundred years ago, when the Parsees first settled in Bombay. Three Sagris, or houses of prayer, overlook the Towers of Silence, and the principal Sagri contains the sacred fire, which is fed day and night with incense and fragrant wood, and never extinguished. Although wholly destitute of ornament, the parapet of each tower possesses an extraordinary coping which instantly attracts and fascinates the gaze. It is a coping formed, not of dead stone, but of living vultures. After these structures have been once solemnly consecrated, no one except the corpse-bearers is allowed to enter, nor is any one permitted to come within thirty feet of the immediate precincts. The dead are laid in open stone

coffins, ranged in circles within each massive cylinder. At the approach of a funeral there is a stir among the vultures, and as soon as the bearers have deposited the corpse and retired, the birds swoop down upon the body, and leave nothing behind but a skeleton."

In answer to the natural objections of a European, an intelligent Parsee ably defended his Towers of Silence. "We spare no expense," said he, "in constructing them of the hardest materials, and we expose our dead in open stone receptacles, resting on fourteen feet of solid granite, not necessarily to be consumed by vultures, but to be dissipated in the speediest possible manner, and without the possibility of polluting the earth or contaminating a single living being dwelling thereon. We form a united body in life, and we are united in death. Even our leader, Sir Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy, likes to feel that when he dies he will be reduced to perfect equality with the poorest and humblest of the Parsee community." Since this account was written, the great leader of the Parsees has indeed gone to his rest, and awaits, in his Silent Tower, that day of general resurrection in which all Parsees believe. In that day, they hold that death will be slain, and the earth, whose elements they regard as so sacred, shall be regenerated and made pure for ever. To us, "the fools of habit," it

sweeter seems

"To rest beneath the clover sod
That takes the sunshine and the rains,
Or where the kneeling hamlet drains
The chalice of the grapes of God."

66

And yet, as the Times correspondent wisely. remarks, our own method of interment, if regarded from a Parsee point of view, may possibly be equally revolting to Parsee sensibilities."

In Madagascar the dead are held in high respect, and to deceased sovereigns almost divine honours are paid. A Malagasy will expend far greater sums upon his buryingplace than on his dwelling-house. He is content to live in a mean habitation, whose walls are made of clay or bamboo, but his tomb must be built of massive stone. He will cheerfully wear a jacket of hemp or ròfia cloth, and a lamba of some coarse material; but his dead must be wrapped in costly scarves of dark-red silk, with stripes and borders of lighter colours. The construction of his vault is one of the principal events of his life, and as soon as he becomes the head of a household he sets about preparing a family sepulchre. No coffins are used in the grave; around the sides of the

[graphic][merged small][merged small][subsumed]

tomb are a series of shelves, and here the bodies, in their silken shrouds, are reverently laid. The general belief in the sanctity of graves protects them from all violation, although they often contain property of great value. There is an idea that the things which the dead prized in their lives may still be of some value to them; and a touching instance of this feeling was given at the burial of a bright boy of high birth, who died soon after the first mission schools were founded in the capital. In his tomb were deposited his slates, pencils, and schoolbooks, together with other articles that he had held dear.

The Brazilians, who are passionately fond of dress, generally bury the dead in their

best clothes, and even enforce etiquette on
the unconscious clay.
A married woman,
after death, is arrayed in black, with a black
veil; her arms are folded, and her hands rest
on their opposite elbows. A maiden lady is
dressed in bride-like garb, wears a wreath of
white flowers, and has her hands laid palm
to palm, with palm-branches between them.
Little children are decked out as friars, nuns,
saints, and angels, Michael the Archangel
being frequently personated. He is habited
in a tunic and belt, a golden helmet and
tight red boots; and his right hand rests on
the hilt of his sword. Girls are dressed up
sometimes as Madonnas, and if false tresses,
rouge, or pearl-powder are required, the
undertaker supplies them.

SNOW.

BY THE REV. HUGH MACMILLAN, LL.D.
"He giveth snow like wool."-PSALM cxlvii. 16.

IN 'N Palestine snow is not the characteristic | weary feet in the common labours of lifefeature of winter as it is in northern latitudes. It is merely an occasional phenomenon. Showers of it fall now and then in severer seasons on the loftier parts of the land, and whiten for a day or two the vineyards and corn-fields, but it melts from the green earth as rapidly as its sister vapours vanish from the blue sky. The snowy peak of Hermon, the true scene of the Transfiguration, is indeed seen from every elevated point of view-a perpetual vision of winter clothed in raiment whiter than any fuller on earth can whiten it; but this snow-spectre stands spell-bound as it were on the northern threshold of the land, gazing over the smiling summer landscapes, but unable to descend among them, or even chill them with its breath. But the Psalmist seized the occasional snow, as he seized the fleeting vapour, and made it a text for his spiritual meditations. Let us follow his example and make the snow which appears oftener and remains a longer time with us, lying like a dreary white shroud over the face of nature, the subject of a few timely reflections, and the means of leading our thoughts to things higher and more enduring than itself. Let us write on its fair, white surface the name of God in letters which he who runs may read.

1. Let us look first at its beauty. Every eye can appreciate the stainless purity, the delicate softness of the snow. It makes a spiritual world of this dull, dark earth of ours; and the fields that seemed fit only for the growth of man's food, and the tread of

covered with its white immaculate carpetseem like a celestial floor on which whitewinged angels on lofty errands of mercy might alight from the kindred heavens. How softly rounded and graceful are its curves as it covers some old wayside wall, or is drifted into wreaths over the common! How picturesque are the forms into which it moulds the outlines of trees and shrubs! Have you ever entered a wood after a snow-storm? If so, you have been admitted into a scene of enchantment, at whose threshold you stand in awe and astonishment. It is a transformation-scene in which familiar objects become unreal as shapes in a dream, presenting an appearance similar to the white Liliputian forest into which the microscope changes a bit of fungus mould. It looks like a newlyformed world on the morning of creation before the sun had arisen to cast over it a prismatic radiance and baptize it with colour. What a look of sublimity does the snow impart to the mountain peak, raising it high above all human changes, into a realm of serene, passionless repose, reflecting the light of the great white Throne of which it seems the very footstool! The line of mountain snow on the blue verge of the horizon is the most exquisite of all sculpture. It yields to the eye and mind the purest and most refined enjoyment. From the stainless surface of that Alpine snow comes back the crimson splendour of the sunrise and sunset, like molten gold in the heart of a furnace

the highest earthly of the landscape thus

purified into and mingling with the heavenly. Even into the dreary prosaic city the snow enters and transfigures it; the houses become like Aladdin's palace; every cart-rut is fringed with jewels; and over smoke-begrimed railing and miry street is spread the spotless ermine of heaven's investiture.

How significant is the white of the snow! The hue of water in violent agitation-of the foaming cascade and the raging surf-belongs to vapour frozen into calmest permanence. Extremes meet; and the water that on the one side purifies itself by motion, on the other side purifies itself by rest: symbol of the frequently opposite modes of discipline by which God carries on the work of sanctification in the soul. Out of white all the colours spring, and to it they return. All summer hues are gathered back into the uniform radiance of the snow, and we retreat from a world of life and beauty to a world of death and beauty. Nature's coat of many colours gives place to the white raiment with which we clothe the infant in its innocence, the bride in her purity, and the dead in their rest. Washed by the waves of the world, and refined by the fires of God, the landscape, like a gigantic lily, unfolds its white petals to the sun, and reflects the light in all its integrity and chastity; and then, clothed in the vestal humility of winter, it is prepared for the many-hued splendours of

summer.

But it is to the eye that searches into the heart of things that the snow reveals its most wonderful beauty, for it is of that truest kind which bears the closest inspection. Take one of the myriad snow-flakes which obscure the atmosphere as they fall, and put it under the microscope. It melts almost instantly, but not before you have caught a glimpse of loveliness that astonishes you. It is a perfect crystal, consisting of six rays spreading in the most symmetrical manner from the centre, and often provided with smaller branching rays. Formless and uniform as a wreath of snow looks, it is composed of myriads of such crystals, whose shapes are so exquisite that the eye is never weary of looking at them. Their variety is most wonderful. Thirty different kinds may be observed during any of our own snow-storms; while in high northern latitudes, upwards of a hundred varieties have been delineated that looked as if designed from a kaleidoscope, yet all based upon the simple plan of the six-rayed star. We see in these minute crystals of the storm the sign of the cross, which is impressed upon the whole of nature,

and enters in some form or other into all our art and science and literature-thus linking our religious life with all our ordinary thoughts and labours. When the first command was issued, "Let there be light," that subtle power shot forth into the primeval darkness in the form of an infinitude oí crosses, and arranged the chaos of the world into this shape throughout the mineral, vegetable, and animal kingdoms. Water freezes and flowers blossom into the form of the cross, and man himself, the crown of creation, assumes it in every outspreading of his hands in prayer. And thus all creation by wearing this sacred symbol upon its bosom testifies of Him who is the true light of the world, who formed the world to be the theatre of redemption, and by the power of His cross brings order out of its confusion and life out of its death.

The snow-crystals are the blossoms of inorganic nature. According to the beautiful system of prefiguration which prevents all abrupt beginnings in nature, and sounds a herald voice of coming glory; the snowflowers which winter grows in such boundless and careless profusion, foretell by the symmetry of their forms, the blossoms of summer. They seem, indeed, like the ghosts of the departed flowers; the models of the spirit-world after the pattern of which the snow-drop and the lily and the Star of Bethlehem are constructed. They look as if their translucent spiritual beauty needed only the Promethean fire to glow into the rosy life of June. A wreath of snow is thus, indeed, a bank of flowers; and we little think, when walking over its cold and barren surface, that we are treading down at every step a tiny garden. I know of no purer intellectual joy than that of gazing through the microscope upon these miracles of loveliness; and it is a careless mind indeed that is not impelled to ask whence came these figures so exquisite and yet so frail and fleeting, so full of wonder and yet so long unknown, and still so little recognised by thousands who tread them under foot. Their beauty is not a chance endowment. It is God's hall-mark attesting that the work is His. It is the quality that is superadded to everything that God has made to the moulding of the fleeting vapour into the sunset cloud, and the unfolding of the brilliant, fragrant flower from the summer sod

in order that our thoughts may be raised from the perishing loveliness of the creature to the enduring glory of the Creator, from the beauty of nature to the beauty of

« PreviousContinue »