undertaken to transport thither the landscapes of her own land, he raised masses of huge extent, supported by arches upon arches, and covered with deep earth, which not only produced plants and flowers, but presented a range of wooded steeps similar to those in the mountains of Media! Thirdly, the gigantic TOWER OF BABEL, Or Balus, was a still more celebrated structure, respecting which tradition, fable, and history, are strangely blended. It was adorned by colossal images and statues of solid gold, the value of which has been rated by Herodotus at 5000 talents, or 21,000,000l. sterling. This is doubtless too high; and equally exaggerated has been its reputed height, which some Jewish authorities fix at twelve miles, and even Jerome quotes contemporary authority for its being four miles high. These ridiculous estimates give way before the sober testimony of Strabo, who states the height at 660 feet, exceeding only a little that of the highest pyramid. Herodotus describes it as a square tower, upon which, as a foundation, seven other towers rose in regular succession, the last tower having a large chapel, a magnificent couch, and a table of solid gold. The building was ascended from without by a winding stair. The space in which it was built was inclosed within walls, eight stadia in circumference, and consequently occupying above thirteen acres. The gates were of brass, and of extraordinary size. Herodotus saw them. Babylon is at present the scene of utter desolation :"The wild beasts of the forest lie there; the dragons howl in her pleasant places." Yet even now, after so many ages of desolation, and after so many great capitals have been built out of its ruins, enough remains to attest the fidelity of those who describe it as the greatest capital of the ancient world-" the glory of kingdoms, the beauty of the Chaldee's excellency." Its mighty structures, indeed, are resolved nearly into their original elements; instead of walls and towers we see only confused heaps of earth, bricks, and rubbish; but these are piled almost in mountain masses; and, seen afar along the Mesopotamian plain, proclaim still the wonders of a distant age. Mr. Rich has described four remarkable masses, which seem to be traceable. The first is a large mound, 1,100 yards in length, 800 in breadth, and from 50 to 60 feet in height. Its great extent and loose texture seem to suggest the idea of its being the remains of the Hanging Gardens. Another pile forms a square of about 700 yards, evidently the site of a finer and more elaborate structure. Several 1 Birs Nimroud, or Tower of Babel. walls are entire, built of the finest brick, cemented with lime, ornamented with niches, and some remains of painting and sculpture. The natives call it the Kasr, or palace, and its appearance seems strongly to warrant that appellation. The third mound is evidently a royal cemetery. The fourth mound, ten miles distant from the preceding (and still in the same city!), is probably the Tower of Babel. It is of an oblong form, 762 yards in circuit, and rises to the height of 192 feet. The bricks are of the finest description, and cemented with lime so closely, that it is nearly impossible to extract one entire! It has some appearance of having been built in stages, and on its summit there is a solid pile of brick, 37 feet high, diminishing in thickness to the top. In short, it is, in all respects, the greatest monument of Babylon. It is called by the Arabs, Birs Nimroud, and is thus described by Mr. Rich:-“I visited the Birs under circumstances peculiarly favourable to grandeur of effect. The morning was at first stormy, and threatened a severe fall of rain; but, as we approached the object of our journey, the heavy clouds separating, discovered the Birs frowning on the plain, and presenting the appearance of a circular hill, crowned by a tower, with a high ridge extending along the foot of it. It being entirely concealed from our view during the first part of our ride, prevented our acquiring the gradual idea, in general so prejudicial to effect, and so particularly lamented by those who visit the Pyramids. Just as we were within the proper distance, it burst at once upon our sight, in the midst of rolling masses of thick, black clouds, partially obscured by that kind of haze whose indistinctness is one great cause of sublimity; whilst a few strong catches of stormy light, thrown upon the desert in the back ground, served to give some idea of the immense extent, and dreary solitude, of the wastes in which these remarkable ruins stand." Struck by a thousand lightnings, still 'tis there In breathless awe, in musing reverence bow, THE THUNDER-STORM. Who has not been in a thunder-storm? Who has not stood under a tree when the rain was coming down like a deluge? when the lightning was flashing and the thunder was crashing around? Once, when a little girl, I was in just such a situation, and I have not forgotten it. Since then I have tasted of joy and sorrow. "Since then full many a rosy hour And beam of joy has been my pride, Of early hope has bloomed and died." But, whether in joy or sorrow, goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my life. It was at the latter end of autumn, some years ago, that three men,—the exciseman, the shoemaker, and the old shepherd of the neighbouring village, were overtaken by a thunder-storm. The sky had been getting darker and darker for some time; but no one supposed that such a terrible tempest was at hand. The sheep and the cattle had huddled together under the hedges, and the feathered race had all retired to their hiding places. It was an awful storm. "The winds of heaven were wild and loud, And fierce the lightning flame Came flashing from the coal-black cloud, The old shepherd advised his younger companions to go with him; but they were wilful, and would not hear him. Without waiting a moment the exciseman ran off to a thick holly bush; the shoemaker made the best of his way to an oak tree; while the shepherd, left alone, hastened along to a cottage near, where he had often obtained a friendly shelter. Though the old shepherd was wet he soon dried his clothes, and was safe from the storm which still raged abroad. The exciseman found the prickly holly bush a miserable shelter; and the shoemaker was in a sad plight under the tree, whose branches after a time poured down their watery burden on his head. They had made a bad choice. Years rolled away, and again by accident the exciseman, the shoemaker, and the old shepherd met on the edge of the common when they were all in trouble. The exciseman had been cheated of almost all the money he had saved; the shoemaker had lost his only child; and the old shepherd had fractured a limb by a fall, and was a cripple for life, walking with two sticks. Again they spoke of the thunder-storm, and of the bad choice the two former had made in their places of shelter. But if they had made a bad choice with regard to the shelter in the storm, they had made a worse in seeking for comfort in their affliction, -for both of them had taken to drinking. No wonder that the old shepherd bore trouble better than they did: he went to his Bible for consolation, and found it; for a holy influence attended him, "In trouble's day and sorrow's hour The Word of God has wondrous power." The thunder-storm and the day of affliction had passed over the exciseman, the shoemaker, and the old shepherd; but at last came the day of death. What place of shelter had they then? What source of comfort did they seek? The shoemaker and the exciseman in their illness clung to the deceitful boasting of their thoughtless companions, who told them to keep up their spirits, for that they would be sure to recover. The old shepherd went at once to the strong for strength, and to the wise for wisdom, and his language was: "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." —(Ps. xxiii. 4.) The old shepherd, the day before he died, sent a message to the exciseman, and the shoemaker, telling them that the cross of Christ was the only sure anchor in the storm of death. "We ran to different shelters in the thunderstorm," said he; "let us run to the only true shelter now." Alas! they had made a wrong choice, and died without hope: the end of the old shepherd was peace. While some run to the world for peace, let us make a wiser and better choice; let us go humbly and confidingly to Jesus Christ, who is the only Saviour, having offered up himself a sacrifice for sinners on the cross, that they might He is live for ever. "The only rock and refuge tower -Child's Companion. |