Perhaps the winding river will remind us of the Jordan, where Christ was baptized; and to which for years devout communicants of the holy Russian Church made their annual pilgrimage to bathe in its sacred waters, wearing the shrouds in which they hoped to be buried.

When we see the birds "who build their nests, and sing among the branches," many thoughts arise; and we contemplate the Holy Spirit, Who, taking the form of a Dove, brooded over our Lord at His baptism. Surely it was with prophetic utterance that the Palmist sang of the Dove "with silver wings and feathers of gold." Or we may think of the two young pigeons, that surrendered their blameless, little lives to redeem our Saviour at His presentation in the Temple. Then the whole system of Jewish sacrifices may come to our minds, as typical of the Great Sacrifice upon the Cross. From the birds we also learn praise and thanksgiving; for they render daily their hymns of praise at Matins and Evensong, and not one of them falls unnoticed to the ground. A wonderful Mass was one on an island, where the worshippers, lifting their eyes, looked out upon the blue waters, sparkling with the light of the early morning, while the voice of the meadow lark mingled with the prayers of a few faithful people. Often through the open windows of a little mountain chapel, has the writer heard the morning song of the wierd veery, passionate, mystic, in its ecstatic cadences, rising heavenward to the listening ear of its Creator. Were not its praises equally acceptable with those of the worshippers kneeling within the sacred walls?

When the purple shadows of eventide fall across the mountains, how up-lifting is the song of the hermit thrush, as he pours forth his whole soul, from his little, trembling, speckled breast. He breathes the spirit of the Sanctus in his hymn of praise.

Then list-I hear surcharged with subtle pain,
From distant tree, the Hermit's lofty strain;
"Holy, O Holy, thrice Holy Thou art,

And birds of the air find rest in Thy Heart."

The prodigality of Nature in her flora reveals the boundless love of our Father. In considering the lilies we think of the Annunciation, and St. Gabriel's message; and we recall this verse from the canticle: "I am the Rose of Sharon, and the Lily of the Valley." The flowers of the earth are fair copies of those we hope to see in the Celestial Country. We like to think of the kindness of Nature in repairing the waste places, making the desert to blossom, and now striving to cover up the scars of the battle-field on the other side.

"Oh, red is the English rose,

And the lilies of France are pale,

And the poppies grow in the golden wheat,
For the men whose eyes are heavy with sleep,
Where the ground is red as the English rose,
And the lips as the lilies of France are pale,

And the ebbing pulses beat fainter and fainter and fail!"

The trees-what can be said of them! What words are adequate to describe the cathedral stillness of a wooded interior, or the seductive shade of a great tree. "As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste." "O," exclaimed someone, "the radiance of wisdom in the lonely waste of pine woods!" One, to whom was shown a woodland painting of cedars, beeches, and spruces, declared that it looked like a Church. Are not the forests the model upon which our ecclesiastical structures are patterned? The sight of a tree may bring to mind the thought of that Tree, that cedar of Lebanon, sacred above all others, the one from which the Cross was fashioned.

In nothing is the omnipotence of Almighty God more fully revealed than in a devout contemplation of the stars. The planets of our system, glorious as they are, seem small, when

we realize the myriad star-clusters, suns, and other planetsextending beyond the limits of space, infinite beyond the powers of man's mind to grasp! The prophets and patriarchs studied the stars with awe and reverence; and "God telleth the number of stars, and calleth them all by their names." A Swedish poet voices a beautiful, though unscientific, thought upon the Milky Way:

"Silent with star-dust, yonder it lies-
The winter street so fair and white;

Wandering along through boundless skies,
Down heavenly vale, up heavenly height.".

She asks whose are the feet that "Pass over that highway smooth and sheen?" answering her own question thus:

"Are they not those whom here we miss,

In the ways and days that are vacant below?"

God hath made all things beautiful in His time, as Scripture tells us; and a devout contemplation of His works will enable us to rise to Him, "Maker of all things visible and invisible," if only our souls throb in unison with the harmonies of heaven. And also we may have companionship with the furry and feathered folk, those harmless denizens of the forest, with whom Christ dwelt in the wilderness. Horace, the Latin poet, tells us that the up-right man, and the one free from crime, need not fear the beasts, nor the javlin; so surely the Christian can feel safe beneath the wings of Divine protection.

"His daily teachers had been woods and rills,
The silence that is in the starry sky,

The sleep that is among the lonely hills."

God speaks to us of His power in the crashing of the thunder, and the majestic fury of the white-capped waves; but He whispers of His love in the beauty of the flowers, and in the singing of the birds; and He reveals His beneficent care in the waving wheat-fields, ripening beneath the summer sun. Surely His

mercy is over all His works, and in Him all things "live and move and have their being."

Yes-thou "Shalt be in league with the stones of the field, and the beasts of the field shall be at peace with thee"; until at last thou shalt come to know and visualize that Peace, which passeth all understanding, and it will be thine forever and forever.

The Three Trees: A Good Friday

T

Meditation

BY THE REV. WILLIAM S. BISHOP.

HREE trees in the Bible represent three stages in the Divine dealings with men. There is, first, the tree which stood in the Garden of Eden, called the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. This was in its result a tree of death: because its fruit was forbidden-death was the penalty for the act of disobedience involved in eating its fruit. It was a tree of knowledge: because to eat of it opened the eyes of Adam and Eve; but it opened their eyes to what? To their own poverty and naked destitution. It was a knowledge of present shame and loss through sin: it was a knowledge of innocence vanished and of Paradise lost. This is the reason why that tree is called the Tree of Knowledge,-of Good, first, and then of evil. There was the knowledge of good as of something past and gone; there was the knowledge of evil as of that which was present and actual.

Then there is the second tree,-standing in the midst of human history just as the Tree of Knowledge stood at the beginning. This is the Tree of the Cross, the tree upon which our Lord was crucified for our salvation. As the first tree was a tree of death, so the second is the tree of life-through-death. The first was called the Tree of Knowledge, first of good, and then of evil which followed through sin. The second tree is also a tree of knowledge of evil and good; but it is the knowledge of the good which meets and overcomes the evil. For it is through the Cross

of Christ that the penalty due to our sin-the penalty of deathis paid by the Sinless One; it is through the Cross of Christ that divine Love conquers human sin. "Where sin abounded, grace did much more abound." The Cross is the sign and symbol of our pardon and forgiveness through the Blood of Jesus. And thus, through the knowledge of our own sin and evil, we are led to the knowledge of God's pardoning grace and love.

As the first tree stood at the beginning of human history, and the second tree stands in the midst of man's life upon earth, so the third tree stands in the future-after the years of human history upon this earth shall have rolled away. In fact, this third tree stands not upon this earth as we see and know it now, but upon that new earth that shall be,-after human sin and death (which is the penalty of sin) shall have become things of the past. We sometimes wonder whether such an earth shall ever be. A world without sin; a world absolutely free from all "crafts and assaults of the devil"; a world in which death and the fear of death are things absolutely unknown; a world from which cloud and night have departed forever. We could not believe in it-we could have no sure faith in it-were it not that God's word of promise assures us;-"There shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun, for the Lord God giveth them light and they shall reign forever and ever."

The third tree-the Tree of Life-stands at the final limit of human history, as the Tree of Knowledge stood at the beginning. As the first was a tree of death and the second (the Cross) was a tree of life-through death, so the third is a tree of life-apart-from death. For "there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying; neither shall there be any more pain; the former things are passed away." (Rev. 21:4.) The first two trees were trees of penalty and punishment; for death is the penalty of sin. But there is no thought of penalty connected with the third tree; for it has no connection with death. There is only the thought of life and of healing. For wherever sin has left its marks and wounds -even though death, the last enemy, has been overcome-those wounds and scars, the result of sin, must be healed. "The leaves of that tree (of life) are for the healing of the nations"-that is,