heroism and a broken heart the best preparative for glory. When the Divine Founder of Christianity had ended a life of privation by a death of agony, he left with his followers the Cross, an instrument and type of suffering, as the banner beneath which they were to fight his spiritual battles, and as a symbol at once of the atonement which had redeemed, and of the spirit which was to actuate his people. The life of Jesus on earth has given a dignity to affliction, and thrown a robe of majesty over degradation and death: and strikingly does the peculiar beauty of the Gospel become apparent, when its voice is heard whispering consolation to the penitent or afflicted, and assuring us that the outcasts of society are by no means always outcasts from heaven.

And, indeed, if we calmly consider the subject, we may become conscious that suffering is not necessarily a proof of Divine displeasure: for, whom do we generally find to be the persons most free from outward or inward sorrow? Surely, not the sympathizing philanthropist, whose heart bleeds over the sufferings and errors of his fellows-not the man of an awakened and sensitive conscience, ever trembling under a feeling of his natural proneness to sin, and mourning over his past transgressions, the remembrance of which, at times, almost scares him from the footstool of mercy-no, there is too much of sin and sorrow within and without to suffer such to be happy while exiles from heaven. But the human animals who live only to gratify their passions, without a care or thought beyond their own interests, to whom the necessities of a neighbour, if noticed at all, come only to enhance by comparison their own felicity; who live and move amid the things of the world as in a congenial element and a native clime-these are the persons most likely to wear the smile of gaiety on earth. They do not pine for the society of angels, for they are satisfied with that of men, whom they may dazzle by their magnificence, or overreach by their guile. They do not pant for the fresh air of Paradise, for they can breathe freely amid the atmosphere of earth; they do not de

sire to bow before God's throne, for they are willing worshippers at the shrine of gold. It is the child who pines for his home: the hireling is content to be absent. Strangers, amid a crowd intent on traffic or ambition, often have the wise and good passed on their way amid the indifference or mockery of their fellows, while no eye has cared to intrude into their solitude, where they had reared a tabernacle which God did not disdain to visit. Engaged in promoting the happiness of others, they were careless of personal delights, and were sometimes cast forth to poverty and contempt, with no stay but the arm of heaven. "They were stoned, they sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword; they wandered about in sheep-skins and goat-skins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented; (of whom the world was not worthy;) they wandered in deserts and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth.”

were

In the present day of commercial enterprize and wide speculation, in which the value of every scheme is apt to be tested by its pecuniary success, this great principle of our holy religion is liable to be forgotten. When nearly the whole of mankind are engaged in a hot struggle for wealth and distinction, and the very teachers of the Gospel themselves are occasionally found similarly employed, it is extremely difficult for the believer to bring his mind to admit in its purity the primitive truth, that in spiritual advantages "the rich and poor meet together." So obstinate is the pride of the human heart, that we find the disciples of our Lord employing a short interval of absence from their Divine Master in a dispute as to who should be the greatest; and in the earliest times of Christianity, as soon as a few adherents of the infant and despised sect could be got together, the best seat in their humble meeting-place was assigned to the wearer of the gold ring and gay apparel. We may, then, the less wonder at, though not the less mourn, the invidious distinctions which still exist between Christians.

Christianity, indeed, attacked none of the outward forms of society: it

was promulgated for a far nobler purpose than to effect an alteration in the mere frame-work of the moral world -in the scenery of the complicated drama of providence-in the varied dresses in which men are to play their little parts in life; these things lose their importance when compared with the regeneration of the inner man, the salvation of the soul. The believing slave was told to remain obedient to his believing master; but they were both reminded that they were servants of one great Master, performing duties in different departments of his vast mansion, and that they would be rewarded hereafter not so much according to what task they had performed at the bidding of their Lord, as according to how they had done it. To the man in whose ears those glorious words, "Well done, good and faithful servant," shall finally sound, it will matter little how lowly may have been the task assigned him in the vineyard of God.

And so, though Christianity teaches the most sublime of doctrines, throwing open to mortal eyes a long vista of coming glories, terminating only at the throne of God, yet it inculcates no pride of intellect, it fosters no assumption of mental superiority, but declares that the man who is highest in wisdom ought at the same time to be the lowliest in humility. "If any man seemeth to be wise, let him become a fool that he may be wise." "If any man think that he knoweth anything, he knoweth nothing yet as he ought to know."

Having his mind possessed with these sentiments it becomes the Christian to pierce through the husk, the outward shell of moral life, into the vital principle within. Let him value a man according to his actings of evangelical morality, rather than according to the mere position he may occupy in society, or the facilities he may possess for rendering pecuniary advantages to the cause of truth. Let him be less submissive to the habits and opinions of a selfish world; for it avails but little that we reject its pomps, if we still retain its petty va

nities and childish jealousies. By treating as a brother the poor believer whom we aid, instead of merely tossing to him an insulting alms, we do much towards extracting the sharpest sting of poverty. For it is often not so much the physical privations of the poor man which wring his heart, (for what abstinence does not the warrior, the student, joyfully undergo?) as that through his indigence he becomes an object of ridicule and contempt. Let not the Christian be ever found to echo the laugh of a heartless world.

Let those, then, who consider themselves children of one Father, disciples of one Lord, and sanctified by the same Spirit, condescend to each other's infirmities, and cling more closely together. If the great contest is, at length, to come between God and Mammon, if in the possesors of vast fortunes we are to see reproduced the giants of early days who tyrannized over men and defied God, if the reckless violence of a sceptical philosophy is to scatter the leaves of our Bibles to the winds, let at least those who hold the "truth as it is in Jesus," be found united, not merely in outward and nominal association, but in those animating courtesies of private life by which man is so closely bound to man and if they are to be wounded, let the blow not come from the hand of a friend.

Every infirmity of the frame, every inequality of the pulse, is sufficient to remind us that soon for us this busy world will be a blank, and the pleasant homes we have gathered around us will know us no more: if, then, we would not that our disembodied souls should go forth into a strange and desolate immensity, where no friend will welcome us--if we would not find that in no one of the heavenly Father's many mansions has a home been prepared for us, we must begin on earth to seek that celestial country by prayers for the Holy Spirit, by repentance, by faith, and by those good works, the fruit of faith, which are in accordance with the spirit of the Gospel.

M. N.

Ir was somewhat trying to leave Heidelberg so soon, to which, as many days as we had hours, might have been advantageously devoted. But we were obliged to bear in mind that we had other objects of interest before us, and that the season was far advanced for our purposes.

The line of railway from Heidelberg to Baden presents no points of particular interest. Carlsruhe, the capital of the Grand Duchy of Baden, the seat of the government, and the residence of the court and of the sovereign minister, is the chief station on the line. The country is one of the most fertile districts in Germany, and produces tobacco in large quantities, as well as maze, hops, hemp, and flax. The hills are clothed with vineyards, and the roads are shaded by luxuriant walnut trees, from which an excellent and clear oil is pressed, nearly as good for culinary purposes as fine olive oil. I was much amused to see the peasantry in all directions wearing large cocked hats-a singular decoration for a ploughboy. We arrived at Baden without having decided as to our future plans. Finding, however, that it was considered almost too late for bathing, and drinking the waters, and aware that, if stationary, I should scarcely be able to avoid, in some degree, my wonted occupations, I yielded to the persuasion that it might be better for me to proceed into Switzerland, where no work could follow me or be pursued, and where I might best try the effect of an entire break from all mental exertion and fatigue. We resolved, therefore, to give only another day to Baden, and then proceed. And that day was so excessively hot (Sept. 10.) that we literally had no courage to move far from our excellent hotel, the Badenscher Hoff. The remarkably fine weather, and its settled appearance, helped us to our decision not a little, and certainly we had no cause to regret it; for a more enjoyable and prosperous tour can seldom have fallen to the lot of travellers through that wonderful country. After leaving the greater part of our luggage in

charge of our kind attentive host at the Badenscher, we proceeded by railway, on Friday, Sept. 11, to Freiburg, beautifully situated, and containing 16,000 inhabitants, 1,600 of whom are Protestants, and recent settlers. The cathedral is a remarkably fine gothic building, remarkable for the delicate symmetry of its proportions, and the good taste of its decorations. The west tower, 380 feet high, one of the very few of the kind ever completed, exhibits a skilful transition from a square base into an octagon, which is surmounted by a pyramidal spire of the most exquisite open-work tracery, all of stone, of extreme boldness as well as lightness. The fine red stone of which the cathedral is built adds greatly to its richness. The windows are fitted with stained glass, of beautiful colours, the oldest is of the 16th century. We took with us to the cathedral, from the Zahzinger Hoff, where we dined at the one o'clock table-d'-hote, an eccentric character in the person of the commissionaire. He speaks English very fairly, and is quite an enthusiast in his profession. He presented us with a copy of verses which he had composed and printed, and nothing could exceed his unceasing and, I must add, disinterested attentions. He renewed, and made more durable, the directions on our luggage, secured us the best places in the Diligence, and entered as much into all our little wants and wishes, as much as if he had been an old and attached domestic. We afterwards met with a party at Grindelwald who had been as much pleased with him as ourselves. They told us they had been induced to give him more money than they otherwise should have done, and that they had the greatest difficulty in prevailing upon the poor little man to accept it. It is pleasant to record such an instance amidst so much that is less gratifying of a contrary character. I was pleased to see, too, that when giving the account of the founder of the church, whose skeleton is shewn dressed in armour and precious stones, and which he said was carried through the town in proces

sion on certain festivals, he voluntarily expressed himself duly sensible of the folly of such superstitious ceremonies.

The afternoon being so fine we were induced to take the top of the Diligence in front, the best of all travelling positions for seeing a country, and to me the only tolerable part of a Diligence. We had no reason to regret the decision. We should probably, in the ordinary course, have taken the Diligence from Freiburg next morning for Schaffhausen, and gone through direct; but we not only wished to break a long and weary journey of fifty-one English miles, taking fourteen hours, but we were aware of the importance of securing daylight for the beauties of the Höllenthal. Finding, therefore, that there was an inn where we could comfortably sleep, we resolved upon this plan, and to take the Diligence at seven in the morning, on its coming up to Steig, from Freiburg. I am induced to be the more minute in my details, because, possibly, the narrative of a tour which we found so advantageously laid for compassing the main objects of interest within a limited period, may prove of service to other travellers.

Höllenthal is, at its commencement near Freiburg, a level and fertile plain of considerable width, bounded by gently sloping wooded hills, very beautiful, but nothing to what follows. As you ascend, it gradually contracts, and about nine miles from Freiburg assumes a character of romantic beauty and grandeur. Its charm consists in the rich foliage of the woods covering its steep sides, out of which project buttresses and pinnacles of bare rock, at the foot of which runs the Treisam, leaving in some places only just room enough for the road. I was charmed with the scenery, and provoked something more than a smile from a lady at the table-d'-hote at Schaffhausen, on my stating that I scarcely expected to see anything more gratifying in Switzerland.

We got to our little inn at Steig about seven o'clock in the evening. It is situated at the end of the valley of Höllenthal, and not in the least interesting part of it. The picturesque

little church, with its simple spire, is a lovely object. The noise of a cataract, and the working of a saw-mill just below it, add greatly to the romantic effect. And here, for the first time, we came to an entire stand still on the score of language. To say nothing of English, not a word of French did the good folks in the house understand. Yet by signs and otherwise, we contrived to secure very sufficient accommodation in the way of lodging and food, and our hostess, with the greatest good humour, made the best of our ignorance, and left nothing for us to complain of. Two parties arrived after ourselves, one of eight per? sons, and we were fortunate in having secured the best apartments. A lovely morning again greeted us, and at seven the Diligence drove up, in which we proceeded to Schaffhausen. After a long and steep ascent, we bid farewell, not without regret, to the lovely vale of Höllenthal. We passed a small lake called Titi See, which, with the adjoining woods and distant hills, forms a pleasing picture from the long hill which we afterwards ascended, and which brought us to the little town of Lenzkirch, where the wooden clocks, for which the Black Forest is famed, are made. We could have made very tempting purchases for about six shillings. Before descending a long and very steep hill to Stuhlengen, we passed immediately under the castle of Hohen Lupfen, belonging to Prince Fürstenberg, and occupying a most commanding position on the brow of the hill. I cannot easily describe my feelings on entering Switzerland, after crossing a small stream a little beyond Stuhlengen. Never had I expected to set foot on this wonderful country, or to find it, in spite of largely excited expectations, one of such surpassing and indescribable interest. The magnificence and sublimity of God's creation, as there exhibited, seems to give an expansiveness and enlargement of idea which revolutionizes and new models every thought and feeling that one possesses. I seem to have launched into a new world; yet not to be otherwise than confirmed in every previous conviction, that England, after all, is the land to live in; and I

trust I may sincerely add, not without some realizing reflections on that better world, where the works of God will be seen and enjoyed without vestiges of the curse.

The heat, as we drove into Schaffhausen, about one o'clock, was excessive, and it was a relief to find that we should not be located within the town over the Sabbath. An omnibus took us two miles down the Rhine to Weber's Hotel, one of the most enjoyable positions that can be imagined. On going up stairs to see our rooms, the garcon threw back the lattice shutters, when we were astounded by the view, which presented itself directly before us, of the falls of the Rhine. The hotel, which has been recently erected, is most happily situated on a considerable elevation above the river, from which is seen to great advantage, not only the Fall but the remarkable and sudden curve which the river makes just below. And now, for the first time, I was entirely in love with the Rhine. Its waters present no more of that muddy, dingy aspect which I complained of before, but are most beautifully transparent. The contrast between the azure green and the white foam and spray of the cataract is very imposing. The only defect in that perfect picture is the mongrel architecture of the castle of Lauffen, which, in its prominent position, impending almost, as it does, over the falls, cannot well be excused for its defects. We, of course, like all other visitors, crossed the river, and went to the castle, and from thence to the summer-house, and down to the very base of the Fall; but I must differ from the opinion that this is essential in order to form a proper estimate of its grandeur. I afterwards saw the Fall from the iron forge on the other side. There, over a wall, and looking behind the isolated pillars of rock, is, in my opinion, the best station; and thus affording the advantage of saving the expense of the boat, and the artist in the castle, who charges one franc for each person, and the garcon who expects his gratuity for conducting through the summer-house to the Fall; and I may add the pay of the commissionaire from the hotel, who accompanied us. To

some persons, too, it would be an object to avoid the fatiguing climb up to the castle; and, if at all nervous, the passage across the river in the boat, which, though not exactly dangerous, with common care, is unpleasant on account of the eddies. The Rhine, above the fall, is about 300 feet broad; the height of the fall varies from sixty feet on the one side, to forty-five on the other; but, including the rapids above, the entire descent is not less than 100 feet.

We had now come to our second Sunday, (Sept. 13,) and if we mourned over the want of public ordinances, the quiet of Weber's Hotel was at all events refreshing, after the grievous desecration, from which we could not withdraw ourselves, at the Bellevue at Cologne. There was everything harmonizing, too, with the sanctity of the day. In all directions there were parties, neatly dressed, and carrying their books, either going to, or returning from, the sanctuary. I remarked that they were all dressed in black, which seems to be the holiday suit of that Canton. I strayed into the church of the village, near the fall, which was well filled with apparently devout and attentive worshippers. The minister preached with peculiar earnestness and affection, and his discourse evidently made an impression. The singing, too, was chaste and pleasing; and altogether, though I knew nothing of the language, I felt confident that the preacher must be holding forth the truth. The afternoon service seemed to be as well attended as the morning, and altogether, there was the appearance in that place of Sabbath observance which was truly refreshing.

There is, to my mind, something in a fine beautiful Sunday, which of itself forms a Sabbath ordinance ; and the cloudless sunshine, the calm stillness, scarcely ruffled by the hum of passers by, added to all the magnificent scenery which surrounded us, was well calculated to direct many a profitable thought towards that rest which remaineth, that perpetual Sabbath-day of heaven.

If expectations regarding the Rhine fall were previously raised very high, they would probably not be realized.