of greatest commotion, waves yawning for their prey, or meeting each other and breaking into foam; now there is an interval of comparative calm, and now again huge masses appear piled one on another. Add to the appearance of a sea the effect of dazzling brilliancy, each particle sending forth prismatic colours as it is lighted by the sun; and often a great portion of the glacier is thickly covered with snow, which gives, at a distance, the idea of surf. When we can look into the ice we find a depth of purest blue; so pure indeed that it admits the light through an incredible thick

ness.

From the bosom of the snow, as it lies on the shoulders of the highest mountains, stream these silent dazzling seas, in many cases bordered by soft meadows, and, as in the neighbourhood of Pontresina, by cool pine-woods. It seems almost unearthly to trace the contrast between the richness of the surrounding vegetation and the cold weird beauty of the frozen sea. As we near its extremity we find a margin of stones and rubbish, which we know by the name of "moraine," and which is formed by the rocks and stones borne downward by the glacier in its course, and thrown to right and left as it descends.

The causes of these wonderful phenomena have led to great discussion, but the explanation which has gained most general belief is as follows: The snow on the shoulders and ridges is alternately frozen at night, and, on the surface, thawed by day; the result of which opposite actions, as may be proved by freezing and thawing ordinary snow, is to weld it into a thick substance of a semi-transparent character: this being constantly increased and pressed from above, and melting from beneath, is slowly driven downwards, where it can find a channel for itself on the mountainside. Sometimes the channel narrows or is partly blocked up by a projecting rock; then the mass is rent in the direction of the obstacle, and one of those crevasses is caused of which we spoke in a previous paper. Then, as was said before, in the course of its downward path the glacier

throws off on either side the stones, soil, and rubbish which have accumulated on it, and keeps its centre pure in dazzling brightness. ·

As we stand looking in wonder on this sublime work of the Almighty's hand, what does it teach us for our own life?

A lesson of trust. That beautiful effect, that deep blue mass, those brilliant forms, are caused by alternations of heat and cold, thawing and freezing; and so, if our life is to be beautiful and bright, firm and real, a glory to God and a joy to man, it must be by discipline and training. The bride, in the Song of Solomon, prays: "Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out." The keen northern blast is needed as well as the soft summer breeze; and this is the lesson of the glacier. We need the cold as well as the heat to temper our character together; the sterner discipline to brace our energies and strengthen our spiritual nature, as well as the gentle dealings to warm our hearts and draw out our sympathies. We owe more than we have any idea of to the freezing days of life, when everything around us seems chilling and saddening and depressing-then we are, if we have the Life in us, consolidating strength, and in the keen realization of need we are preparing for a fuller supply. When Christ seems furthest from our feelings, He is often working deepest in our hearts.

Then come the sunny days, when in the felt presence of our Saviour all is bright and cheering, the "restoring" of the soul; when we feel ourselves as it were expanding in His love and growing up into Him, when His smile seems to light upon and fill us, and thus to melt the cold barrier that has been growing up between us and Him. Our feelings are warmed and kindled, we are able to desire more of Him, and we bring a larger heart to be filled with His grace.

But could we rightly measure these days out to ourselves? 1 Cant. iv. 16.

Could we blend the warmth and cold in right proportions? leave it to Him who knows, and who

Surely not: we must doeth all things well. He will not let us become enervated and enfeebled by too much of the soft brightness; and He who sees we need the cold will never forget to send the sunlight.

The glacier gives us a lesson about care. We noticed that its downward course was regulated by its own weight and the pressure from above. And perhaps we none of us value as we should the effect of the weight and pressure of a Christian life: we are all naturally averse to care and anxiety, and yet we little know how much we owe to it. Our own course is often guided into channels very unexpected to us through the pressure of care; and when we look back we can realize how blessed that pressure was which wrought such a result. And then our own cares and anxieties often bring us into circumstances and relations in which we are able to be of use to others; as Joseph's imprisonment was the means of blessing to Egypt and to Israel, and as the glacier pressed down the mountain-side cools and refreshes with its own presence the sultry valley. Let us not shun care, but cast it on Him who careth for

us.

So

The glacier gives us a lesson about sin. Its pure surface is sullied and defiled by many a rock and stone, by many a land-slip and much soil, but it does not penetrate. with the renewed heart. The soul that has accepted Jesus, and is living in Him, is not free from the attacks and defilements of sin, though it is free from its dominion: the man who has taken a bath, and so is cleansed from head to foot, contracts fresh defilement as he steps out on to the ground, and so needs the constant washing of the feet. We cannot live in the world without being exposed to its temptations; we cannot continue in the flesh without being stained by its defilements. But let us be like the glacier, of which the surface alone is soiled; let us watchfully keep our heart pure by abiding in Christ and letting Him abide in us.

Let us not give any sin a home within us, or make it welcome in any way, but resist, steadfast in the faith.

And the glacier teaches a lesson of progress; for as it goes on it throws off all that clung to it, till it forms a substance by itself, and at the end of its course the refuse is to be seen separated from the bright stream. Thus every day of our life we should be throwing off sin, not letting it rest on us and penetrate into us, but overcoming and discarding it; every day gaining fresh victories; every day putting off more and more of the old man ; every day laying aside more and more of the weights and the sin that doth so easily beset us. The progress may be small, but let it be real; let it be the heart's fixed aim daily to cast off something, to add something to the great heap of sin “laid on Jesus." For we too have a motive power from above; a power which works in us, which guides our course and gives us power in it, which repels sin, and gives us power to overcome it. Christ, in whom alone we can be new creatures," dwells in and walks in us, gives us the weapons of our warfare, which are "not carnal," but "casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ."

God's Jewels.

IF you only saw what Will Fry showed me to-day!" was John Young's exclamation, as the family met for their midday meal. "He has come back from the Cape with such diamonds! Some of them as large as marbles. When he sells them he will be a rich man!"

"I, too," said Maggie, "I had a sight of diamonds to-day; for when I went to the Castle Lady Olive had me up to her room and showed me all her beautiful new things. The lovely white silk wedding-dress, and heaps of rings and

bracelets; but the most lovely of all was a kind of crown of diamonds. They sparkled as brightly as the dew-drops. She laughed when I told her so, but said that I was quite right, and that both diamonds and dew-drops were beautiful only because both reflected the sunlight so beautifully. One was in itself only a tiny drop of water, and the other a little bit of crystal. Then she said, so quietly and kindly, 'I hope, Maggie, you and I will be jewels to shine bright as diamonds for the King of kings Himself, and when all earthly jewels shall have passed away, we, His living gems, shall be growing brighter and brighter in the presence of our Sun.' I did not quite understand her, father, and had not time to ask her about it. And she said, too, Though she was going so far away she never would forget us, and that if we are really jewels of our King, He will be sure to bring every one of us safely home to Himself, to be there for ever with Himself and with each other; meanwhile,' she added, 'wherever we may be let us each try to shine for Him.' Will you tell us, father, what she meant ?"

"Gladly, my child; but it is time now to go back to work; next Sunday evening we can take 'God's jewels' for the subject of our talk."

"Thanks, dear father; that will be very nice."

Sunday evening came, and they gathered round their father to listen to the wise and loving lessons he was wont to gather for them out of that Word which to him was "sweeter than honey" and "more precious than gold."

After a short earnest prayer for the presence and teaching of God's Holy Spirit, he opened his Bible and read, “Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another: and the Lord hearkened, and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written before Him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon His name. And they shall be Mine, saith the Lord of Hosts, in that day when I make up My jewels; and I will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that serveth him.” 1 So Lady Olive was right, without doubt,

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1 Mal. iii. 16, 17.