6 the time is fast approaching when hast redeemed with Thy precious we shall be. When our eyes are blood. Here is the plea, the only closing on this world for ever, plea which sinners can urge when and about to open in eternity; they make supplication unto their when the trembling soul is about Judge. They cannot plead their to quit the body and enter into own innocence. They cannot the immediate presence of a holy appeal simply to His mercy, beand heart-searching God;-then, cause He is just as well as merdear friends, it will know the ciful; but they can plead that His importance of these things, and justice is satisfied, and therefore the immense unspeakable value they can ask for mercy. They can of an interest in Christ, Then-say, We therefore pray Thee, help if pardoned through His blood- us, because Thou hast redeemed shedding, it will fully know the us with Thy precious blood; 'blessedness of the words, Thou that blood which cleanseth from hast overcome the sharpness of all sin.' And that is a plea which death,-Thou hast opened the can never be pleaded in vain. kingdom of heaven to all be- He has redeemed us, and we are lievers.' The next sentence is precious in His sight. He also full of comfort, Thou sittest has loved us, and given Himself at the right hand of God in the for us.' Therefore, in the solemn glory of the Father.' This is day of judgment, will He acwhere Stephen saw Him. This knowledge and save us. The is where the Bible informs us, in Judge of the world will then be many places, He will be, until our Saviour and our Friend, if the time of the restitution of all we seek Him now on earth. Do things.' And what is He doing so at once-do so for your souls' there? He tells us: 'In My Fa sake-do so as you would wish ther's house are many mansions: to hear Him say, Come, ye if it were not so I would have told blessed of my Father;' as you you. I go to prepare a place would not hear that awful senfor you. And if I go and prepare tence, Depart from Me, ye a place for you, I will come again cursed.' Pray, dear friends, in and receive you unto myself; that the language of our hymn, where I am, there ye may be Make us to be numbered with also. Therefore, although He Thy saints in glory everlasting.' is at the right hand of the Father And remember, if we are not in glory, He is not unmindful of numbered with them on earth, His people. They are dear to we shall not be in eternity. Have the apple of His eye,' we cast in our lot with them and He is continually watching now? Are we willing to bear over their interests and provid-reproach for His sake?-to foling for their wants: He ever liveth to make intercession for them.' Then this admirable hymn continues, We believe that Thou shalt come to be our Judge. We therefore pray Thee, help Thy servants, whom Thou Him as 6 · low the Lamb whithersoever He goeth-to keep His commandments-to pluck out the right eye-to cut off the right hand, if it offend? Let us earnestly strive to be amongst His saints at once. He will not reject us: but He will save use and bless +.us as His heritage:He will govern us and lift us up for ever. Then shall we worship His name world without end.' Then shall we, in holy watchfulness against sin, cry unto Him, 'Vouchsafe to keep us day by day without sin.'-'0 Lord, have mercy upon us, let Thy merey lighten upon us.' Then shall we know that, if we do truly trust in Him, we shall never be confounded." SIX WEEKS IN SWITZERLAND. CHAPTER THE LAST. FROM the Baths of Loueche, the romantic gorge of the Bala led us down into the valley of the Rhone. Here we hit into the Simplon road, and travelled upon it some two or three hours, till we reached the little village of Visp. We stayed here all night, at a comfortable little inn, wandering up the valley in the course of the evening towards Brieg, where the Simplon Pass commences, leaving the Rhone, and ascending the Alps, on its way into Italy. Next morning, we proceeded up a side valley, which truns at right angles to that in which the Rhone flows, and is called Vispthal. We followed this till we reached its head, which lies at the foot of Monte Rosa. It was a good long day's journey of thirty miles, but in the midst of most exquisite scenery. I know little in Switzerland which will compare with it; and yet, singular to say, it is so little known. We halted for our mid-day's rest at St. Nicholas, where a little wooden inn provided us with omelettes and milk. Then, in the course of the afternoon, we passed a small and simple monument of a single stone, erected to the memory of two young men, who, a year or btwo before, had been wandering on the heights above, and overtaken by a fog, had missed their footing, and both been precipitated a thousand feet down to the path where we were walking, and dashed to pieces. And then a few miles further, we passed the village of Randa, nestling under the fearful patronage of an enormous glacier; which not many years ago, hurled down such enormous masses of block ice on to its unsuspecting victim, as nearly to crush it to atoms. Ice and stones which fell at that time, gained such a tremendous impetus in their descent, as to roll many hundred yards up the mountain on the opposite side; and on their way, the very rush of air caused by their precipitous course, it is said, blew down some dwellings. A few miles further on,' at Täsch, we stopped at the curé's house for refreshment. He sent out some very sour wine, and some very hard black bread, which it was positively necessary to chop, cutting being out of the question. However, I dare say he did his best for us. But when we came to the remuneration part of it, and at the suggestion of a previous traveller, who had expressed himself delighted with the exhibition of modesty in such valley below, it has the appearance of a volcano; the lofty currents in the air above, drifting the snow in a cloud off the top, matters on a previous occasion,I held out my hand, full of silver for him to pick out the necessary sum; to my surprise, the good man took it all, and pocket-like wreaths of smoke. And long ed it! In the evening we arrived at Zermatt, the last village in this valley,—for here it comes to a head, as I have already remarked, being closed up by Mont Rosa and its chain. We put up at a most comfortable little inn, built of wood; and stayed here the Sunday. And oh! what a romantic place this is! You seem here at the very end of the world. There, on one side is the gorge we had come up ;-there, on the other side, is what appears in the dusk of the evening to be a huge perpendicular wall of snow, some eight or nine thousand feet high, over which you can see the stars setting one after the other. It is a wall which divides Switzerland from Italy; once on the other side, and you are in the warm, sunny clime of oranges and myrtles; we crossed it on the following day. be But the most remarkable feadeture of the scene is the "Matterchorn," or Mont Cervin." On this lofty wall of snow it appears to be perched, sole and desolate, by itself, a huge pyramid four thousand feet high. I never saw anything anywhere, whose grandeur affected me so much as this did. It is so vast, so towering, and so unearthly-looking,- the sight is so strange, you can hardly believe your eyes. It pierces the blue sky so sharply, or that snow can barely lodge upon its sides, save in a few crevices here and there, and a little on the summit. In the evening, while all is quiet and still in the after the sun has ceased gilding the surrounding mountains, the heights of the Matterhorn retain their pink hue. The view from the Riffelberg, four hours from Zermatt, immediately opposite Monte Rosa, presents you with the finest view in Switzerland; for nowhere else do you get such a magnificent and perfect panorama of snow mountains. We looked forward with no little anxiety to our journey on the Monday. We had to cross the pass of St. Theodule, the highest and most difficult pass in Switzerland; which rises near 12,000 feet above the sea, and is not trod by many more than a dozen people in the course of the year, though decidedly the shortest of all the mountain passes into Italy. We could gain hardly any information of what we were to expect; except some melancholy accounts of a few travellers, which were inserted in the traveller's book in the inn, which all treated of nothing but danger and destruction. We had too, great difficulty in obtaining a guide, with whom we could converse. There was but one man in the place who spoke anything like French; the language of the others was an unintelligible patois, a mixture of German, French, and Italian. We started early in the morning, plentifully supplied with provisions, in case of detention; and with ropes and planks, in case of danger. And most mercifully were we dealt with. No snow-storm enveloped no us in its dangerous drifts,crevasses (or ice-cracks) insidiously took us in to their unfathomable depths below,-no piercing wind frozen with its friction over the lofty desert of snow, benumbed our faces, and skinned our cheeks, the day was bright, clear, and warm (as it could be), as if made for the purpose, with not one cloud in view. We climbed up to the top, in less than half the usual time, had many hours walk over the eternal snow and ice (which up here never melts); crossed the fearful crevasses on our planks, safely looking down into the cavernous depths below; crossed the Swiss frontier, which is an imaginary line on the summit of the ridge; descended the rich Italian valley of Tournanche on the other side, reached the romantic and ancient town of Chatillon in good time in the evening, and were at Aosta at eleven at night. Thus achieving in one day what is usually considered a business of three days. But fair weather, and good health, and good spirits, will, with the blessing of God, enable one to do anything. I was not a little thankful to have passed this anticipated danger in safety; for indeed it might have been very much otherwise. We stayed one day at Aosta, which is rich in Roman remains; and then proceeded to Cormayeur, which lies at the back of Mont Blanc. Then, after a day's rest here, we took the round of Mont Blanc, over the Col de la Seine and the Col de Bonhomme, to Chamouni, where were our friends anxiously awaiting our arrival. And thus ended my journey from Interlachen over the Alps to Chamouni. C. with the loss of her husband and property, and the smiles and caresses of a vain world, she was brought to the knowledge of her Saviour, and to a good hope in heaven, which is gilding her latter days, and causing her to be one of the happiest and indeed richest persons living. She has scarcely twenty-five pounds a year to live upon, derived chiefly from a government pension; but instead of murmuring and repining at her lot, she is always rejoicing in God her Saviour, and often expressing her wonder that one so unworthy should have so much. She is at work from morning till night, doing good. Not a person dies, or is ill, without her being in the sick room, when she reads the Scriptures and prays. She is constantly at work making garments for the poor, and out of her scanty pittance has her weekly pensioners. You hear her in her room singing her hymns of praise, or engaged in prayer. Her parting blessing on going to bed, after visiting her friends, is very touching. She seldom fails to revert to the probability that they may not meet in the morning. And is the prospect of dying painful to her? Oh! no; though she has not a child or relative near her, she exults in the thought that she may be very near her home, and longs to depart and to be with Christ. She has living with her a venerable old Christian lady, not much short of one hundred, to whom she ministers temporally and spiritually. And thus these two old Christian pilgrims tell to all around, that it is not a vain thing to serve the Lord; that He provides for his children where the world fails and disappoints;-that he can give a name better than of sons or of daughters;-that even a dark and dreary old age can be illumined with a glory such as all the pageantry of palaces and courts cannot furnish ;-and that He makes His chosen ones to know the reality of the rod and staff, of his promised presence in the dark valley. I know not a more fearful sight, than that of an aged person passing into the valley of death a stranger to Christ; the world all dying from him, and he fast dying from the world. I know not a more blessed sight, than that of a venerable pilgrim coming to his end, like a shock of corn fully ripe in its season, and bearing joyful testimony that not one thing hath failed of all the Lord spake, but all has come to pass. Reader! for which end are you preparing? W. COPY OF AN INTERCEPTED LETTER From a Prisoner in the House of Correction at Wakefield. "Wakefield, May 30, 1834. "DEAR BROTHER, I send you these few lines, hoping they will find you in good health, as they leave me at present, thank God for it. You must excuse me writing to you, and giving you the expense; but there is no other relation in the town; and I hope that, if you see my wife in any situation that needs your assistance, you will see her righted; and if there is another letter to come to me, you be at the expense, and I will pay you back as soon as I come home." "DEAR WIFE, -I am very sorry to hear of the situation you are in; and not being able to assist you, it makes me very unhappy. Your situation is very bad; but mine is a great deal worse. Wakefield Prison is a very large place, and the rules are very strict,-for you are not allowed to speak to any one. You get up at six o'clock in the morning, and work till six at |