sant. I gazed in perfect ravishment on this gem in the immense casket of the wildest grandeur and universal desolation. It was as a jewel fished from the sea, for no man had made it, or placed it there. God alone had done it.

I said, yes, it is so, after all. There is a verdant spot for old age and weariness, where the decrepit and heavy-laden may rest in beauty, though in the lap of pictured desolation! Here is a garden of fresh grass and unsoiled flowers which God has planted, and man has not marred. Though all about is frigid, lone, desolate, yet, in the living soul, the virtues of truth and love survive and vegetate; it may be, unperceived, yet ever fresh, ever full, because immortal. The toiling pilgrim, faint and weary, just ready to yield in despair, reposes, at length satisfied with this new discovery of the amplitude of divine grace, which more than compensates for the sufferings and discouragements of past personal effort. He is pleased. He hopes to be forgiven. He no longer trusts in himself. He claims no merit of his own. His work served its time. He could go no further. Now he enjoys what God has graciously given him; and is thankful for it, and happy.

So toil, patient reader, that you may win, that you may ascend to the garden which God has planted, and not man. Be not discouraged at much

humble labor, though, for a time, unrequited. Bear your crosses and fatigue with fortitude and resignation. And though you must again descend from the loftiest attainments of human ambition and patient industry-from the serene joys and holy quiet of such profound communion, into the vale of carking cares, unsuccessful toil, aud jarring passions, when the unhoping despair, and the faithless turn back, when the strong oppress, and fools lack wisdom; even these scenes shall be made more tolerable by the memory of past success- - of what has been gained by the sweet assurances of what does exist -the spirit of an elevated piety and pure religion.

Twilight found us safe returned to the peaceful valley, seated by a blazing fire, astonished at ourselves as well as at the scenes we had visited. No one knows what he can endure-what he can achieve, till he makes the trial. Thousands fail and die for lack of faith and patient endurance. What myriads contract painful disease and suffer untimely death from sheer indolence; while as many more are killing themselves under the burden of unpaid labor! When will the affairs of men be equalized, and all enjoy the blessing of Him who freely giveth withholding from none, but demanding obedience as the terms of enjoyment? Remember that out of the sight of mortals, yet within the reach of all, above the cold, damp region of clouds and doubts,

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there is LE JARDIN, green, bright, beautiful. The believing see it. The ardent hope for it. The truthful labor to reach it. There their labors cease. They rest with God.

ΤΟ

BY S. LATHAM.

MERRY days we've passed together,

Thou and I,

When the hours on lighted pinions
Floated by.

Then the stars that twinkled o'er us,
Seemed to join with us the chorus
That we raised so joyfully,

Thou and I.

Quiet days we've passed together,
Thou and I.

We have been where Nature reigneth
Holily.

Where the woods are cool and stilly, Where upsprings the snow-white lily, We have stood with beaming eye, Thou and I.

Earnest days we 've passed together,
Thou and I.

We have seen the shadow stealing
O'er life's sky.

Loving still, and never fearing,

While the shadows yet were nearing, Firm we 've stood with danger nigh,

Thou and I.

Saddened days we 've passed together

Thou and I.

Thou hast seen life's deepest pleasures
All pass by.

Still though Hope's star dim was burning,
We have clung with love and yearning,
Clasped hands and upraised eye,
Thou and I.