These stones we can see, remind us of other stones we cannot see (verse 9.) "And Joshua set up twelve stones in the midst of Jordan, in the place where the feet of the priests which bare the Ark of the Covenant stood, and they are there unto this day." Will these stones ever be found? More unlikely things have happened. Any way, they serve us as a lesson. There are things unseen as real as things we look on every day. ORDINANCES ARE SIGNS AS WELL AS REMEMBRANCERS. What do you call that piece of wood there? Why, the communion rail, to be sure. Communion? what does that mean? It is only a piece of wood, and yet it makes us think of Him Who, the same night that He was betrayed, took bread, saying, "Do this in remembrance of Me." Kneeling at that rail, we may, by faith, take hold of the Man who died for us. Rightly used, the Lord's Supper may be manna--angels' food. What is this day? The Sabbath. The Rest Day. The toils of life are o'er for a little time. Ah! this is another of the stones we see, which tell of stones we cannot see. There is a Sabbath that has no week-day; there is a world where there is no toil, no anxiety, no tears! "O, long expected day begin!" What do you call that sweet noise? Music? And what is that but another of these stones we can see, which tell of others we see not as yet. Dr. Watts said of sacred music-- "Thus, Lord, while we remember Thee, We, blest and pious grow; By hymns of praise we learn to be Triumphant here below." While I hear those children's voices I seem to catch the sweeter strains of my children in heaven, singing their joy. Those deep, manly bass voices remind me of the psalms up yonder--like the sound of many waters. Why, the very crape some of you wear reminds me of some who sat by your side, and who are now clad in garments "whiter than snow." XXX. "HE THAT SLEEPETH IN HARVEST IS A SON THAT CAUSETH SHAME." PROVERBS x. 5. We shall always be in debt to Solomon for these wise sayings, and for the pains he took to have them preserved. The words which head this form a picture. It is harvest-time, and the old folks have been depending on their able-bodied son getting in all their corn, but they are doomed to disappointment. He sleeps when he should work. When others are toiling he is snoring, and his corn rots in the field because he does not carry it while he has fine weather. How ashamed his father is! Other men have got their corn well housed, but his is still where it grew, because the son he has reared is lazy and self-indulgent. One feels that no language is too strong for this indolent young man. But what has this to do with us? some will ask. We reply--Is not this the harvest time of the church, when the days are closing and the nights lengthening? Have we not been used to hear of special efforts being made for the rescue of perishing souls, and ingathering of those who are in danger of dying unready? ARE YOU ASLEEP IN HARVEST?