Sweet spirit vale! dear Auburndale! for such I love to call you; within your borders, in sweet communion with God and Nature, the soul becomes purged of all material impurities, and grows into closer harmony with the sacred laws of being—Love, Sympathy, and Purity. Away in the distance rises that majestic pile which to me is Mount Lookout; and as the sunlight rests upon it in gorgeous splendor, I know that upon my earthly home the sun is slowly sinking, in lines of rose and purple glory, behind the western hills. Who could dream of pain and sadness amid the sunny sweetness of this enchanting vale? And yet, even here sometimes comes from a-far a sound of distress and anguish, brought plainly to our spirit ears by the waves of sympathy that surge within our souls; and we hear the wails of pain welling up from earth life, and mark the signs of devastation and distress bearing down upon the friends in mortal. But why is this? Because from the depths of human suffering, pain, and death, that we see around us, a heavenly sympathy is born within our souls, and we become desirous of helping those in need, a sympathizing pity, prompting us to extend the cord of love we hold, until it encircles and draws upward, into realms of ineffable peace, the storm-tossed spirits in pain. Disasters come to earth—conflagrations, misfortune—and from them often result suffering and death; but, glory to Him who rules! from the midst of these scenes of sorrow arise pure streams of helpfulness, strength, and succor for the distressed, that not only enriches the receiver, but also overflows with sympathy and blesses the soul of the bestower. Up from the surging billows of distress, out of the fiery furnace of affliction, arises the pure Spirit of Love, cleansed by its contact with water, or refined by its passage through fire—noble, enduring, true—growing stronger and better from its upward flight, seeking as it goes the sympathy of angels, who, looking downward from the upper heights, send forth the sustaining cord of affection to draw the spirit upward, singing as it arises this grand refrain refrain— “Nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee; E’en though it be a cross that raiseth me.” MY HOME; ITS LIFE AND ASSOCIATIONS. The home I inhabit in the Celestial Sphere would appear to mortals as a large, spacious, white mansion, surrounded by porticoes, verandas, and the like, the doorways opening upon a scene of surpassing loveliness; for there Nature wears her richest robes to beautify external life. The interior of this habitation you would observe to be divided into various apartments, each furnished with appropriate furniture and hangings, the whole designed to harmonize in a perfect blending of form, color, and texture, pleasing to the eye and restful to every sense of the beholder.