d, a cascade fell into the air for about forty feet,
and, without touching anything, became dishevelled, and disappeared in
mist.

It was one of the most beautiful objects which I ever saw. It was pure
white, relieved against the wet and very black rock. It waved to and fro
in the air like a streamer; it had a slow pulse, lifting it and letting
it drop, like the appearance of a waterfall seen from the window of a
car in motion, only this was irregular and quite slow; it was soft and
fleecy; it made no audible noise; it looked dangerous to see it fall
from so great a height; but it was caught in the air, to your relief, as
one who falls in his dream lights upon his soft bed. The lines of Gray,
in his Bard, were suggested by the sight of this mountain, though not by
any close resemblance:

"Loose his beard; his hoary hair
Streamed like a meteor to the troubled air."

The ladies had other images suggested by it. One said, "It is a
beautiful hand, waving Godspeed to us on our journey." That brought
tears into the eyes of some of us, reminding us so of meetings and
partings at home, and chording well with our pilgrim condition. We
concluded to make response; and we tarried there.

The rock seemed to be full of water, oozing out from the seams, dripping
over rich mosses, with jets, here and there, leaping into the light with
a bound of a few inches, and quietly expiring among the thick
weather-stains and lichens, as if satisfied with their brief existence.
The little things made me think of the sweet souls of infants passing
into time, and then immediately out of it. As we listened, we heard what
Addison describes in his version of the twenty-third Psalm:

"And streams shall murmur all around."

The ladies took off their bonnets, and we our hats, and we stood under
the cascade, looking up, and feeling, or fancying that we felt, the cool
spray on our heads and faces. We drank of the rock, and we thought of
that Rock which followed Israel. It seemed good to have such an image of
Jesus as such a rock, with the strength of the hills in it, and with its
inexhaustible springs, its beautiful entablature, its cool shadow,
following a company through a desert. What thoughts and feelings did it
give us respecting our adorable Immanuel, God with us. Dear Susan,
looking up, said, "Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I."

After invoking the blessing of God, and refreshing ourselves from our
little store, our friends w