CONVENT OF ST. SABA-JOHN DAMASCENUS. THE Country between Jerusalem and the north-western shores of the Dead Sea is, for the most part, a region of bare rocks intersected by deep, narrow glens. The former are perforated with many natural caverns, as well as artificial grottoes, easily constructed, owing to the yielding texture of the limestone. The latter are the beds of winter torrents left perfectly dry A through more than half the year. considerable portion of this district is now the sternest and most desolate mountain tract in Palestine. In ancient times it was included in what was then called the wilderness of Engedi, a compound word, signifying the "fountain of the goat." Hence, when the rumour went abroad that David, in fear for his life, had retired to the difficult fastnesses of Engedi, we are told that Saul set out to seek him " on the rocks of the wild goats.' The same name designated a town apparently situated on the plain at the foot of the hills, near the termination of the Jordan; and the place also figures in history under a different title, that of "Hazazon-Tamar," or the city of palm-trees, "which is Engedi." Reference is made to the palm in this connection in one of the apocryphal books :— "I took root in an honourable people, As a cedar in Lebanon was I exalted, As a palm-tree in Geddi was I exalted, In one of the wildest-looking glens have flourished there for ages; and in the rainy season the Kedron flows through the pass on its way to the bituminous lake. Here stands the convent of St. Saba, a four hours' ride from the Dead Sea, and scarcely three from Jerusalem. The convent, large and massive, is built in a kind of amphitheatre on one side of the ravine, and rises in ter races to the top of the cliffs, some turrets ascending higher. higher. It has much more the appearance of a strong military fort, or the hold of a robberknight, than an ecclesiastical edifice. The entrance is by a small portal with an iron door. Miss No Arab is allowed to Nor pass. may any female intrude, whatever be the weather. A small tower, perched on the summit of a cliff without the walls, is for the accommodation of lady travellers. Here Madam Ida Pfeiffer, of "All Round the World" notoriety, passed the night in perfect solitude. Martineau, being provided with her own tent, slumbered in the glen below. Some thirty monks are the regular inmates, listless and incurious, but attentive to visitors according to their means, for they are bound to a severe rule, never eating flesh. Mr. Stephens relates of the superior in his time, that after a residence of twenty years in the convent he had never been to the Dead Sea. The establishment was founded by St. Saba, a Cappadocian by birth, who withdrew to the glen about the year 483, attracted by its seclusion, but soon drew thousands of anchorites after him, whose residences are extant in the caves and grottoes of the neighbour hood. Once, during the controversy about the Monophysite heresy, he quitted his retreat, marched to Jerusalem at the head of a small army of monks, and drove thence the supporters of the heretical patriarch of Antioch, though sustained by the imperial troops. In the seventh century one of the Caliphs plundered the place, massacred the recluses in the vicinity to the number of 14,000, as stated by tradition, whose skulls and bones decently arranged are shown to those who choose to look at them. A man of some mark was an inmate in the eighth century, John Damascenus, of whom there is reason to believe that his heart was right, though his mind was beclouded by the errors of his time. A few months back, his name came up in well-known auction rooms, Leicester Square, London, when some highly precious Greek manuscripts were disposed of, collected by the proprietor during a long official residence in the Levant. One of them was a philosophical and theological treatise by the Damascene, a transcription apparently of the eleventh century, on 153 quarto leaves of vellum, written with beautiful neatness. A native of Damascus, and belonging to a family of high rank, he became secretary to the Saracen prince of the city, acquired his confidence, and received from him various distinctions. But, convinced by an instance of treachery of the uncertainty of worldly favour, he retired, along with his bosom friend, Cosmas of Jerusalem, both of them poets, to the convent of St. Saba, where he died about the year 756. His tomb was shown there down to a late period, and a small chapel still VOL. III.-NEW SERIES. bears his name. bears his name. Though possessed of extensive knowledge, and a voluminous writer, John of Damascus produced little in prose which the world need regret to lose, except it be references to the doctrines and practices of the Greek Church in his time, with extracts from works of an older date. But he composed some poems on sacred subjects, which touch the heart as surely as they came out of it. Witness the outpouring of religious feeling in the following hymn, translated by the late Mrs. Barrett Browning, England's greatest poetess: "From my lips in their defilement, Spurn me not for all it says,- "I have sinned more than she, Who learning where to meet with Thee, And bringing myrrh, the highest priced, Anointed bravely from her knee Thy blessed feet accordinglyMy God, my Lord, my Christ! "As Thou saidest not 'Depart,' To that suppliant from her heart, Scorn me not, O Word, that art The gentlest one of all words said! But give Thy feet to me instead, That tenderly I may them kiss And clasp them close, and never miss With over-dropping tears as free And precious as that myrrh could be, T' anoint them bravely from my knee! "Wash me with my tears: draw nigh me, That their salt may purify me : Thou remit my sin who knowest All the sinning, to the lowestKnowest all my wounds, and seest All the stripes Thyself decreest; Yea, but knowest all my faith, Seest all my force to death,Hearest all my wailings low, That mine evil should be so! K K "Nothing hidden but appears After listening to this plaint-the cry of a stricken, seeking, and earnest soul-we feel as if the still small voice were audible to us, which assuredly spoke within the comforting reply to the intelligence of the sup pliant, "Go in peace." The visitors are many to the wild glen of the Kedron, as the ordinary route between Jerusalem and the mysterious abyss of the Dead Sea. They halt at the convent, hear from the monks of John Damascenus, but little have they to relate of him beyond the mention of his name, and nothing at all to tell of his proficiency in experimental religion. "WITHIN THE VEIL." "Give me the wings of faith to rise, Within the veil and see The saints above, how great their joys, How bright their glories be." How often do we sing these words when God has taken from us the objects of our Christian love, and how eagerly do we strain our minds to imagine the state into which they have gone! At such seasons it is well for us to sit down and ponder the brief but pregnant intimations that have been given us of that state. And if we do not find them such as to gratify our curiosity, they will do what is better, they will both cheer and sanctify the heart. Now what ideas of the heavenly state do we get from the apostle's words, "within the veil?" (Heb. vi. 19.) of all parts of the universe, the Divine presence is especially manifested. It is our satisfaction to know that whereever modern science has penetrated with her observations the same natural laws exist and operate that prevail on earth, and in these we have the footsteps of the God that has made our own earth and still reigns in it. So that instead of asking, "Where is God?" we cannot flee from His presence if we would. We should find his tokens round about us in the remotest star of which astronomers have knowledge. But there is a scene of Divine glory in which the Great Eternal manifests Himself otherwise than by those proofs of power, and wisdom, and goodness, which make the whole creation a reflection of His presence. It is the very home of our God, the holy of holies of all the wide universe, "within the veil," where He communes from the seat of His glory and of His mercy with His redeemed. Lost in thought and in endeavour to realize somewhat of the august scene, our labouring souls find rest in one revelation of this heavenly state-God will be manifested in the Incarnate person of Christ. The mysterious union between God and man which was formed in the birth at Bethlehem has not been dissolved; and He who dwelt on earth in a body of humiliation now dwells in a glorious body. The shekinah of the earthly "within the veil" has given place to the glorified Incarnation of the heavenly "within the veil." Jesus in the body of His glory is the shekinah of the holy place above. We need ask no more questions about it. Wheresoever Jesus sojourned on earth, God was manifested. Devils felt His presence, disease felt His presence, death felt His presence, the stormiest elements of nature felt His presence, the broken heart felt His presence, the trembling conscience felt His presence. "He that hath seen me," He said, "hath seen the Father." Where Jesus dwells now, there God is manifested. And we know not that there is or will be any other visible manifestation of Him. On earth the glory of Christ was so clouded by circumstances of humiliation that many saw it not. In heaven there will be no cloud, no concealment; at the name of Jesus every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess. He that seeth Him will know of a surety that he is looking upon God. "Within the veil," the scene of this most attractive, most perfect, most blessed revelation of Godthither it is our Christian friends are taken. There it is that they are now; not in the grave, but in the very presence of their Saviour and their God. There is a second idea suggested by the apostle's words-there is no admission "within the veil" except through the blood of atonement. "Within the veil" of the earthly sanctuary "went the high priest alone once every year, not without blood, which he offered for himself and for the errors of the people." (Heb. ix. 7.) Not by the blood of goats and calves, but by His own blood did our High Priest, the Lord Jesus Christ, enter into the heavenly, holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us. (Heb. ix. 12.) And it is by His blood alone we shall enter in. This perhaps is the most solemn lesson which this symbolic description of heaven teaches. Without shedding of blood there is no remission of sin; without shedding of blood there is no reconciliation with God. And the only blood that has efficacy to take away sin is the blood of the Lord Jesus, shed once for all on Calvary. They that serve God "within the veil" "have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." 66 There is a third idea suggested by the words, "within the veil." "Within the veil" none can enter but the pure or the purified. We still resort to the ancient symbol for instruction. In the course of the service which preceded the High Priest's solemn entrance within the veil" he was required to wash himself with water, not less, we think, than three times; the Holy Ghost assuredly this signifying, that without purity there can be no acceptable worship to God, and that "without holiness no man shall see the Lord." "Within the veil" none can enter but the purified. By the ordinance of God the pardon of sin and the renewing of the character are indissolubly knit together. And they dream vainly of entering heaven who persuade themselves that their sins are pardoned while their character is practically impure. "Within the veil" there is holiness to the Lord written on every power and passion of every soul, on every thought, and word, and deed, of every saint in the holy place. And they who are not sanctified unto God on earth must spend their eternity elsewhere than in the presence of the Holy God. What a miserable idea of salvation many people have! To escape from hell is their highest ambition. Could they escape from hell and from God at the same time, that is what would please their hearts. To be conformed to the image of the Holy One, to have all dross and defilement of sin purged out of them, to have "A heart in every thought renewed, to be brought into spiritual unison with Christ and the hosts of the holy, of this they have no idea and no desire. And yet without this none can dwell "within the veil," and take part in the heavenly service of the Incarnate God. "The holy to the holiest leads." We are trained in the outer courts for the services of the inner. We shall be able to carry nothing but character with us out of this world into the next; and we are now forming the character which will go with us into the other world. The tree is now taking the set which it will never lose even in eternity; and thus are preparing differences which will subsist among the saved themselves, perhaps for ever. It is not enough that we be Christians, we should seek to be Christians of the holiest and heavenliest order; so walking with Christ and working for Christ that we shall feel ourselves at home when we enter "within the veil," and find ourselves in the presence of Him whom, having not seen, we loved and served on earth. Happy they who can say— "An heir of heaven, henceforth I fear not death; In Christ I live, in Christ I draw the breath Of the true life. Let earth, sea, sky, Make war against me. On my breast I show Their mighty Maker's seal. They vainly try To end my life, who can but end my woe: Is that a deathbed where the Christian lies? Yes, but not his 'Tis death itself there dies." THE PRIMITIVE CONDITION OF MANKIND.-CIVILISED THE earliest history of mankind, by extremely brief and scanty; especially the earliest portion of it. But it plainly represents the first of the * Sir John Lubbock, in his paper on the "Primitive Condition of Mankind," at the Meeting of the "British Association," in Dundee, commented on Archbishop Whately's opinions, but failed, we think, to prove the Archbishop's argument unsound. Many readers will be pleased to know what the argument really is, and how the Archbishop puts it. We extract the following pages from the Third Dissertation in the first volume of the "Encyclopædia Britannica."-ED. |