sun's disc, Rittenhouse was so filled with rapture that he fainted. And, as the glories of the upper world, the unutterable splendor of the Sun of Righteousness, attract the eye of the beholder, is it strange he should be rapt and overwhelmed? "The kingdom of heaven is within you." Such holy anticipations turn earth into Paradise.

66

Thoughts of heaven! they come when low

The summer evening breeze doth faintly blow;
When the mighty sea shines clear, unstirred
By the wavering tide or the dipping bird;
They come in the rush of the raging storm,
When the blackening waves rear their giant form,

When o'er the dark rocks curl the breakers white,

And the terrible lightnings rend the night;

When the noble ship hath vainly striven

With the tempest's might,come thoughts of heaven.

Where the lonely eagle takes its flight;
On peaks where lie the eternal snows;
In the sun-bright isle, mid its rich repose;

In the heathy glen; by the dark, clear lake,
When the fair swan sails from her silent brake;
Where nature reigns in her deepest rest,
Pure thoughts of heaven come unrepressed."

FOR what is earth so valuable as for a memento

of something better? What use shall strangers and pilgrims make of it, save as a volume from which to get the alphabet of celestial science; save as a rude wharf, from which they embark; a tottering bridge, over which they pass to the Better Land? For all who will see them, there are

waymarks along the road, pointing toward Canaan. God permits us to gaze on mountain and plain, river and waterfall, not to satisfy us, but to furnish occasion for praise, and to quicken our desires for more satisfying scenes. Each spot on earth made attractive to the Christian, every view that has impressed him, enter in among the fruitful seeds of things which are to grow throughout our immortality. Viewed in a spirit of adoring love to the great Creator and Redeemer, each new scene becomes a fresh element of spiritual expansion, to be carried with him as a memorial, the occasion of a new song to Him who is seated on the throne.

The mountains are remembrancers. In all directions they lift their dark or hoary heads, singly, or in groups, holding many a reservoir to feed the pure perennial springs, that like living hearts send forth the very life-blood of the land, and embosoming many a lake worthy to be called "The Smile of the Great Spirit." They look like sentinels which the Lord of hosts has set on duty; their deep gorges avenues to the palace of the Great King. When morning shines, what a wealth of glory is poured over their lofty ridges, and down their sides! When evening shadows settle over them, you may see the white clouds hovering around and below

their summits, as if in search of a quiet lodgingplace; just as you have seen doves nestle a little this way and that, ruffling their wings, and carefully adjusting themselves for a night's repose.

Solemn, majestic remembrancers! ye call to mind Mount Moriah and Sinai, Carmel and Lebanon, Tabor and Calvary, and the fastnesses amidst which Waldenses and Covenanters sang praises to the God of their salvation. Most comfortable are the thoughts ye awaken. Ye lift our thoughts away from earth. We think how the everlasting arm is underneath the feeblest saint of the Most High: yea, that He who weigheth the mountains in scales is in covenant with his people. "As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people from henceforth, even forever."

The soul of man needs a stronghold whose foundations are elsewhere than on this quaking planet. When these mountains shall be scattered, and these hills bow, we shall find that the Rock of Ages alone can serve for a hiding-place. "I will say of the Lord the Lord my righteousness - he is my rock, my fortress, my deliverer; in him will I trust."

In certain districts of Switzerland, where primitive simplicity still lingers, a peasant stations himself on the loftiest peak, and, as soon as the sun sets,

pours from his Alpine horn the notes of the Psalm, "Praise God the Lord!" The same notes are repeated from neighboring summits, and all within hearing, with uncovered head and bended knee, join in their evening worship. Every hill-top and mountain-peak that our eye rests upon has its herald, sounding forth a summons, and at day-break, too, yea the livelong day, -"Praise ye the Lord!" "O, come, let us sing unto the Lord; let us make a joyful noise to the Rock of our Salvation!"

Yes, those towering summits are waymarks, carrying the mind of the pilgrim upward to his soul's everlasting Munition of rocks-to Him who is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever. No one less venerable than the Ancient of Days, less mighty than the Creator, less compassionate than the Lamb that was slain, less condescending and august than God manifest in the flesh, will suffice for our guilty, helpless souls. Praise, everlasting praise to Christ the rock of our salvation!

The plain too is suggestive. You may have traversed the wilderness of the West, and the Grand Prairie, stretching beyond it a thousand miles to the Rocky Mountains, impressive beyond anything of mountain or ocean scenery that you ever gazed upon before. Only the glorious firmament above surpasses