countries the shade of the grove offers a cool retreat for the traveller, and the graceful palms form a beautiful contrast to the arid wastes with which they are surrounded. The seclusion, too, of the forest, its dimness at noon and gloom at eventide, and the voice of the wind in its branches, now a melancholy moan, a soothing whisper, and anon, a wild angry howl, would naturally impress the ignorant and superstitious mind with the idea that such sites were the abodes of invisible powers. But many have entertained the idea, that the general connection of religious rites with the trees of the field in ancient times, is to be referred for its origin to a traditional remembrance of the fact, that amid the trees of Eden the progenitors of the human race first had audience with their God. It is supposed that the immediate descendants of the Noachic family would not be unacquainted with the scenes and transactions of Paradise, considering that Methuselah connected Adam and Noah; that a tradition of them long subsisted among their posterity, gradually becoming more corrupt; and that hence originated that impression in favour of the more prominent productions of the soil, which led mankind, in the countries of their dispersion, to localise their deities in groves and gardens. Thus," says Mr. Faber, "long after Paradise had been forfeited, sweet was its remembrance to the sons of Adam, and delightful was every image that could bring it to recollection." Whatever opinion may be formed of this hypothesis, it is undoubtedly the case, that the legendary annals of almost all nations, as well as the productions of the classical writers, celebrate a period when men were innocent and happy; when the earth spread her richest

66

treasures at their feet, and nature spontaneously contributed to supply their wants; when the heavens shone with unclouded radiance, and the sun with an evergenial warmth; when the tranquillity of the world was uninterrupted by tempests, and the soul of man unagitated by passion; and evidently this common sentiment of pagan antiquity is the wild offshoot of tradition from the stock of primitive truth.

"Behold the fig-tree, and all the trees," said the Saviour of the world to his disciples, for an important practical purpose. They mark by their appearance the different seasons of the year. They are pleasing objects to the eye, and suggest to the mind topics of improving meditation. "There are ten thousand considerations," says Evelyn, "which a contemplative person may derive from the groves and woods; and though he had only the palm, it were sufficient to employ his meditations as long as he were to live, though his years were as many as the most aged oak." Spenser speaks of the decayed sovereign of the woods:

:

"dry and dead,

Still clad with relics of its trophies old,

Lifting to heaven its aged hoary head,

Whose foot on earth hath got but feeble hold."

And to such a smitten and blighted tree, Lucan compares Pompey, in his declining state. It is an emblem of what, outwardly, the mightiest of men will be. But moral and spiritual improvement will survive all natural decay; and hence, the inspired record declares concerning the subject of it ;-" He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither." T. M.

Q

SCARBOROUGH.

On the north of Scarborough, on a bold craggy eminence, commanding a very extensive sea-view, stand the ruins of a castle built in the reign of Stephen, to which Piers de Gaveston, the minion of Edward 11., fled for refuge from the presence of the exasperated barons. The castle, after sustaining two sieges from the parliamentary troops, was dismantled at the close of the civil wars; and though a portion of it was repaired in 1745, and barracks have been subsequently built in its immediate vicinity, it is principally in ruins. The remains of the keep consist of a square tower nearly one hundred feet in height: the entire surface included within the walls comprises nearly nineteen acres. A strong gateway still remains, with portions of the circular towers occurring at intervals in the line of the fortifications. It was, in fact, previous to the invention of artillery, one of the principal strongholds in the kingdom. A bold line of cliffs, the summit of which is variously shaped and figured, by natural accidents, as well as by many buildings placed thereon, is seen to emerge from within the opening of Scarborough harbour, and to project into the sea. It rises higher the farther it stands out, until, upon its loftiest point, which measures more than three hundred feet above the highest tide, it exhibits the once famed but now ruinous castle, within the surrounding walls of which, lie concealed nineteen acres of fine grass land.