and cries of sorrow rise equally to his throne? To this feeling were added many more, and weak, poor and unintelligible did the whole course of my past life appear to me. Do these statues, lights and temples then make any difference, said I to myself, with all this pomp of riches and splendour? will the Lord who walked bound as a slave among us, and suffered himself to be illtreated, will he not be mocked through it? Do not these wretched beings represent him anew before our eyes? can I not in each one of these persecuted ones greet himself? feed, clothe, and protect him?--Then I felt as if all the sorrow and strife, which these mountains have endured for years were piercing in countless multitudes through my own wounded breast. Another boy now fell down and cried, 'go out into the wood, Elias, Marion, and some of the faithful are approaching, they have strayed; induce them to come with psalms, for to-day, you have no persecution to fear.' Some went out from the assembly, and sang with loud voices, and soon afterwards returned with a great number of enthusiasts, among whom a tall man advanced, who was respectfully saluted by all. 'Triumph!' said the child aloud, still prostrate on the ground, 'the disbeliever is overcome, he will enter into the kingdom of the Lord.' Then I felt the blow of a great hammer suddenly against my breast. I struggled with this feeling, and conquered it. The humble divine worship of this poor pitiable congregation was continued with psalms, and calmly uttered inspired discourses. Marion spoke the word of life, which penetrated through all my faculties; in what dreadful error I had been wandering untill then! All contingencies vanished, it was granted to me to look upon the Lord, and the strength of his miracles in their simple glory, and to behold his meek and lowly form. If until then my soul had been only overshadowed by pomp, legends, false emotions and artificial elevations; as splendid hanging of silk and gold only confine the pure rays of celestial light, and give but a false brilliancy to its glory. My heart was contrite and as a wound of sorrow and emotion; my spirit was like that of a child. The Most High stood by my side, and stretched out his bleeding hand to me, which had been now again pierced by us miserable wretches. The glance from his tearful eyes went to my soul, then I was filled with wrathful melancholy and joyful sorrow, and in this emotion, I was smitten again when the assembly dispersed. What is nature? this question I had often asked myself when I rambled with enthusiasm through wooded mountains and verdant valleys magically lighted and covered with the breath of morning, embalmed by the fresh zephyrs, and filled with all the lovely presentiments which inspire us with such pleasing dreams. Oh, my father! now I understand the deep wailings in the woods and in the mountains, in the gurgling stream, the word of the Eternal himself and his almighty compassion on us unhappy,