the shores that were to limit the nations; and chain
by chain, the mountain walls were lengthened forth, and their
foundations fastened for ever; and the compass was set upon the face of
the depth, and the fields, and the highest part of the dust of the world
were made; and the right hand of Christ first strewed the snow on
Lebanon, and smoothed the slopes of Calvary.

Sec. 3. It is not, I repeat, always needful, in many respects it is not
possible, to conjecture the manner, or the time, in which this work was
done; but it is deeply necessary for all men to consider the
magnificence of the accomplished purpose, and the depth of the wisdom
and love which are manifested in the ordinances of the hills. For
observe, in order to bring the world into the form which it now bears,
it was not mere _sculpture_ that was needed; the mountains could not
stand for a day unless they were formed of materials altogether
different from those which constitute the lower hills, and the surfaces
of the valleys. A harder substance had to be prepared for every mountain
chain; yet not so hard but that it might be capable of crumbling down
into earth fit to nourish the alpine forest and the alpine flower; not
so hard but that, in the midst of the utmost majesty of its enthroned
strength, there should be seen on it the seal of death, and the writing
of the same sentence that had gone forth against the human frame, "Dust
thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return."[40] And with this
perishable substance the most majestic forms were to be framed that were
consistent with the safety of man; and the peak was to be lifted, and
the cliff rent, as high and as steeply as was possible, in order yet to
permit the shepherd to feed his flocks upon the slope, and the cottage
to nestle beneath their shadow.

Sec. 4. And observe, two distinct ends were to be accomplished in the doing
this. It was, indeed, absolutely necessary that such eminences should be
created, in order to fit the earth in any wise for human habitation; for
without mountains the air could not be purified, nor the flowing of the
rivers sustained, and the earth must have become for the most part
desert plain, or stagnant marsh. But the feeding of the rivers and the
purifying of the winds are the least of the services appointed to the
hills. To fill the thirst of the human heart for the beauty of God's
working,--to startle its lethargy with the deep and pure agitation of
astonishment,--are thei