as this tells so clearly what God can do for his people
hereafter that that element of Moses's enjoyment can be perceived, if
not fully appreciated. All the well-known mountains stand up like
friends to cheer us. Mont Blanc has the smile of the morning sun to
greet us withal. Monte Rosa chides us for not partaking of her
prepared visions. The kingdoms of the world--France, Switzerland,
Italy--are at our feet. One hundred and twenty snow-peaks flame like
huge altar piles in the morning sun. The exhilarant air gives ecstasy
to body, the new visions intensity of feeling to soul. The Old World
has sunk out of sight. This is Mount Zion, the city of God. New
Jerusalem has come down out of heaven adorned as a bride for her
husband. The pavements are like glass mingled with fire. The gates of
the morning are pearl. The walls, near or far according to your
thought, are like jasper and sapphire. The glory of God and of the
Lamb lightens it.

But we must descend, though it is good to be here. It is even more
difficult and tedious than the ascent. _Non facilis descensus_. With
your face to the mountain you have only the present surface and the
effort for that instant. But when you turn your back on the mountain
the imminent danger appears. It is not merely ahead, but the sides are
much more dangerous. On the way down we had more cannonades. In six
hours we were off the cliffs, and by half past three we had let
ourselves down, inch by inch, to Zermatt, a distance of nine thousand
four hundred feet.

Looking up to the Matterhorn this next morning after the climb, I feel
for it a personal affection. It has put more pictures of grandeur into
my being than ever entered in such a way before. It is grand enough to
bear acquaintance. People who view it from a distance must be
strangers. It has been, and ever will be, a great example and lofty
monument of my Father's power. He taketh up the isles as a very little
thing; he toucheth the mountains and they smoke. The strength of the
hills is his also; and he has made all things for his children, and
waits to do greater things than these.

THE GRAND CANON OF THE COLORADO RIVER

Before me lies a thin bit of red rock, rippled as delicately as a
woman's hair, bearing marks of raindrops that came from the south. It
was once soft clay. It was laid down close to the igneous Archaean
rocks when Mother Earth was in her girlhood and water first began to
flow. Mor