the frequent notice it there obtains. In the book of Ecclesiasticus its stately beauty furnishes Wisdom with

an apt similitude:

"I was exalted like a palm tree in Engaddi." "To express or delineate prosperity and opulence," says Bishop Lowth, "a comparison is assumed from the cedar or the palm :" thus, in the ninetysecond Psalm, verse 12.," The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree." Its common use in religious ceremonies has been before adverted to; indeed, its introduction into all the solemn festivals of the Jews was by divine appointment; and these were so frequent, that Judea was typified by the palm tree upon the coins of Vespasian and Titus.

Since the Christian era it is associated with more

touching and glorious recollections, our Saviour's triumphal entry into Jerusalem; which event was formerly commemorated in Christian countries by carrying branches of palm in solemn procession: on that account the Sunday before Easter still retains the name of Palm Sunday. There is yet another honour reserved for it. When earthly distinctions are passed away, "as a tale that is told," the palm is held forth in the Book of Revelations as symbolic of the final victory of the just. "After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kin

dreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands.”

After considering the different species of fame which these two noble trees memorialise,- the one "of the earth, earthy," the other, that which shall subsist eternally, who would hesitate which to prefer?

“If endless ages can outweigh an hour

Let not the laurel, but the palm inspire.”

Yes; let the bay still crown the warrior and the poet, the Christian, humbly, yet hopefully, aspires to the palm!

Not around the peaceful bower

Should thy verdant branches twine,
Though thy leaves through wintry hour
With unchanging lustre shine:

There are fitter scenes than this for thy bloom.

On the poet's lofty brow

Let thy classic garlands glow,

Or, if he lieth low,

On his tomb.

Or, return'd from well-fought field,

When the victor throws aside

Both his dinted helm and shield

And his sword in crimson dyed,

O'er his trophies let thy green branches wave;
For what so fit a meed

From the country he has freed;
As the laurel-wreath decreed

To the brave?

Such the deeds thou lovest to grace-
But, thou proud triumphal tree,
Soon shall time thy wreaths deface,
And those deeds forgotten be;

Born of earth, with things of earth they must die:
But there is a fame shall last,

When earth's flitting glory's past,

And a branch no adverse blast

Shall destroy.

'Tis, like thee, the victor's meed;
But it decks not poet's grave,

Nor the warrior's martial deed,

No 't is only seen to wave

Where the martyr's honour'd dust doth repose;

Or his, who broke the gloom

Long of pagan lands the doom,

And made " the desert bloom

As the rose."*

But where's the power of thought

Which may pierce those scenes sublime, When the Christian's fight is fought,

And o'er Sin and Death and Time

Through heaven-imparted might, he hath won;
When he joins the glorious band
Who as crowned victors stand,

pal m-branch in his hand,

Round the throne?

* How beauteous are the feet of those who bear

Mercy to man, glad tidings to despair!

Far from the mountain's top they lovelier seem
Than moonlight dews, or morning's rosy beam;
Sweeter the voice than spell or hymning sphere,
And listening angels hush their harps to hear."

THE BANYAN TREE.

FICUS INDICA.

"The fig-tree (not that kind for fruit renown'd,

But such as at this day to Indians known,)
In Malabar or Deccan spreads her arms,
Branching so broad and long, that in the ground
The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow
About the mother tree, a pillar'd shade

High overarch'd, and echoing walks between."

So many and so definite are the descriptions, both in prose and verse, of the Banyan, that the mind feels almost familiar with it, though perhaps no tree is more strongly impressed with foreign lineaments. In our stoves, "foreigners from many lands,"

"Unconscious of a less propitious clime,"

are seen mingling in social union; not only flowers and shrubs, but trees of considerable magnitude. Such, however, is the astonishing bulk of this leafy giant, that the broad bosom of earth, and the overarching