waters and thick clouds of the sky." And as you have sailed day after day, and week after week, witnessing the wonders of God, when the awful anthem of the storm was the only music that greeted you; when you were tossed about, a thing of utter helplessness; when neither sun nor stars in many days appeared, and no small tempest lay on you; then you opened the Apocalypse, and read with a delight not to be described "I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no You read again and again, with heightening appreciation of its meaning: "No more sea; no more sea.'

more sea.

Your voyage is to the tropics. You visit the island toward which this country turns such a covetous eye. New forms of exuberant vegetation, the perennial verdure of foliage, the spontaneous profusion of fruits, the fragrance of orangeries and coffee plantations, the feathery bamboo and banana, and the stately classic palm, supply unlooked for types of beauty, enhanced by an atmosphere of singular serenity, and a sky of the softest blue. There, too, the sun shineth in his strength; "there is nothing hid from the heat thereof; he rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race:

"Not, as in northern climes, obscurely bright,

But one unclouded blaze of living light."

Evening comes on, and you not only behold familiar stars, but the brilliant constellations of the southern firmament look down upon you. Individual stars of eminent beauty, Achener, Canopus,

The

Maia Placida, the star of first magnitude nearest the south pole, and the two of similar rank in Centaur, rise up to view. But chiefly are you delighted as the Southern Cross presents itself in all its mild yet impressive glory. You find special occasion for wonder and praise. You would fain walk to the house of God, in company with them that keep holy time; but, alas! where will you find such? Lord's day is not known: the mummeries of superstition, baptized or unbaptized, are not the worship of God. All the abominations of slavery and the slave trade obtrude upon your eye; and, in the midst of so much that is outwardly fair, you shed bitter tears over the blight of sin: you are at once drawn and driven to contemplate those regions never visited by the curse.

Who will not bless God, that he has given us eyes to see? that at every turn there open to view scenes suited to enlarge the mind, and elevate the soul?

– hill, stream, grove, city, cottage, or sweet flower,

smiling in every nook and cleft of this rough world. Does not all direct your thoughts upward, with ardent longing for its holy rest? If such be earthsmitten, shattered earth- what must heaven be? When earth and all the works that are therein shall be burned up, there will be a new heaven and new earth unspeakably more glorious than the present, in the sanctified recollection of saints on high.

5

CHAPTER IV.

GLIMPSES OF THE LAND.

The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed,
Lets in new light through chinks that time has made
Stronger by weakness, wiser men become,

As they draw near to their eternal home.

Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view,
That stand upon the threshold of the new.

WALLER.

"It is the most beautiful island that eyes ever beheld." "As I arrived at this cape, there came a fragrance so good and soft of the flowers and trees of the land, that it was the sweetest thing in the world."

"The singing of the birds is such, that

would never desire to depart hence."

seems as if one

COLUMBUS.

Ir is worthy of remark, that in the New Testament we have only one account of a saint's departure to the Better Land. One reason, doubtless, is that attention may not be unduly turned to the closing scene; that a natural curiosity of that kind need not become excessive and profitless. The circumstances and feelings of a man in the hour of death merely are not of the greatest moment. It is to Christ's death and the Christian's life that the

word of God gives special prominence.

One in

stance of dying repentance is given, that of the crucified thief, in order that no one may presume or despair; one instance of the experience of a departing Christian is supplied, to teach believers how to die. "He, being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up steadfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God, and said: Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing on the right hand of God." This vision was not addressed to the outward eye so much as to the eye of the soul; it was a parting of the veil, which up to that moment had hidden the world of glory from his view. Hitherto he had walked by faith; now there was a partial vision, spiritual vision of that world into which he was soon to enter, a preparatory glance, foretokening what his disembodied spirit was about to enjoy fully and forever. Such discoveries are not appropriate at earlier periods; they are not compatible with the design of discipline, except near its close. It is, in the divine appointment, more a matter of epoch than of bodily condition. The martyr Stephen was in full possession of his powers. Violent hands had not yet been laid upon him when he saw the heavens opened. He was neither under the influence