Brightest and best of the sons of the morning,
See how the darkness has fled from the scene;
Star of the East the horizon adorning,

Herald to man of the sunshine supreme."

My heart was full-I hardly waited till the actual sunshine was enthroned. The awe of that first sight of the starry darkness,-the ghastly white of that unillumined snow on the mountains, the change so sudden as from death to life; 'twas enough-I rushed indoors-settled for my room-and, without pausing even to break the fast, bounded through the dew down into the depths below, there (on rejoining my companions) to exclaim with enthusiasm at having seen the day dawn, and the Day-star to arise, from the Rhigi Kulm of Switzerland.

"I wait; my soul doth wait more than they that watch for the morning. I say more than they that watch for the morning."—Psalm cxxx.

Not in a crowd as before was my next experience of a summer sunrise, but with only three others as companions; and it was not this time on a mountain-top, but on a wide treeless plain, that we took our stand to "watch for the morning." No arousing with rams'horns was needed, for all night we had been astir; the thunder-peal had rolled in the distant heavens, and the flash of the lightning had shone on our midnight walk through that summer night out from the city of Sarum to the stones on Salisbury Plain.

It was pitch dark, however, and very sad and drear when, by three o'clock on the morning of the longest day in the year, the feet of those four wanderers from their homes left the hard roads they had traversed up and down all the night long for the short soft grass that clothes the sweeps of that undulating plain; and faint were the hopes, as they took their stand amid those

ponderous stones (reared by unknown hands in unknown times), of seeing any sunrise break upon that dull scene; but in faith the travellers turn north-eastward as they watch amid those weird circles roofed only with the vault of heaven that now was blackness and darkness above them, with not even a star to be seen, and no snows to fringe the invisible sweep of an uninterrupted horizon. But, as we kept our station, the air became resonant with myriads of unseen larks, whose sweet carols, coming down as from the heavens amid an all-prevailing night, proclaimed their sense of coming day, and as the enraptured ear revelled in their song, lo! as if responsive to their thrilling strains, all heaven put on that inexpressible loveliness which betokens a summer morning's dawn.

"To hear the lark begin his flight,

And singing startle the dull night
From his watch tower in the skies,

Till the dappled dawn doth rise.”--Milton.

Nevertheless, clouds veiled the eastern horizon, and our watch would be all in vain if we missed the sun's

first appearance in the heavens. Suddenly those thick clouds resting there wore an impurpled tone, and opening, as if with joy, into broad seams, formed vapoury gates, with glories of ruby and gold within ; and just as we wished (but had scarce dared to hope for), Sol himself rose amid all this cloudy majesty, right over the huge stone in front, and seemed to pause there in his upward career till the shadows stretched to our feet, and all the heavens were aglow with his developed power. Again my heart was full, and albeit there were but four of us I turned and walked back all alone, leaving the other three to prolong their morning travel to a hostelry on the Plain.

Tradition said that great stone (set so strangely, and all away from the circle) did-as the watchers, standing there on the morn of the longest day, proved

to be true-present that curious sight of the sun rising from behind, and seeming to pause for a moment above it, like a man's head rests on his shoulders; showing how that stone was purposely set there to produce this phenomenon, thereby to mark the position of the sunrise on the longest day of each year. How our forefathers in days of old must have religiously "watched for the morning"! The sun rose all the same to us as to them, strong and undiminished in power, throwing his beams into the circles once so complete in their massiveness, and now so hoary in their weather-beaten ruin. Their authors must have hailed that luminary in their worship as as emblem of their best hope. It was seen by us (their successors) separated by untold ages, shining still the same.

Christianity at its appearance hailed the day-break as the hour for its gatherings. "They meet," said Pliny to Trajan, "before it is light, to sing hymns to Christ as a God." Christians still honour the East, and point their altars and inter their dead with reference to the sun's arising. And still do they look for the day when the joyous cry shall be raised

"Lo! He comes, with clouds descending,
Once for favoured sinners slain;
Thousand thousand saints attending,
Swell the glories of His train."

Sunrises such as the two thus described are exceptional; those who wish to see them for themselves have to watch their opportunities, and to study times and seasons to avoid disappointment; for whether on Salisbury Plain, or on the summit of the Rhigi, a perfect sunrise is but seldom to be seen, and if once experienced leaves a memory not to be effaced except by the Divine reality of Whom it is such a wonderful type. Happy are those who in the darkness of life's troubled scene have realised the appearance in their

souls of Him, the Day Star of coming glory. Such shall know the "Sun of Righteousness to arise with healing in His wings.

To see the first of these narrated sunrisings involved foreign travel, a patient watch for favouring skies, and a steep mountain climb; the other a long midnight walk in darkness and storm. To have the spiritual, personal, inward sensations of which, after all, these outward scenes are but emblematic, may be found to have involved an effort, an isolation, a dreariness,

"But is not pilgrim toil o'erpaid

By the clear rill, and palmy shade;

And see we not up Earth's dark glade,
The gate of Heaven unclose?

Yes, verily, as He is seen who is to mankind the Bright and Morning Star. The Door of Hope for the unending Day.

WILLIAM BECK.

NOTE.-Praying towards the East-as the quarter of the rising sun-the source of light-a natural symbolism common to nearly all religions—was adopted by the Christian Church from its commencement. One of the earliest testimonies to the prevalence of this custom among Christians is that of Tertullian, who refers to the suspicion entertained by the heathen that Christians were sun worshippers, "because they were well known to turn to the East. in prayer," being "lovers of the radiant East that figure of Christ." Dictionary of Christian Antiquities.

"I am the root and offspring of David, and the bright and Morning Star."-Rev. xxii. 16.

MINISTRY OF ANGELS.

HEB. I. 14.

How ought we to think of Angels?
Lo! their camps are round us spread.
Preach they not all glad evangels?
Weave they not life's various thread?
Angels heaven-born spirits, glorious,
Passing skies and earth between,
Mighty, in God's power victorious,
In our midst and yet unseen.

Some have said your radiant features,
Rob'd in hues that heaven must give,
Are so dread that human creatures
Cannot look on you and live.

When your shining wings enfold you,
As before the Throne ye bend,
Eyes like ours could not behold you,
Nor such hearts could comprehend.

Where God sits ye bow before Him,
Tens of thousands wait His will;
"Thousand thousands," ye adore Him,
His great ministry fulfil.

When He spake His vast creations,
"Morning's stars" together sang;
When He laid the world's foundations
Shouts of joy from angels rang.
Lovely earth with beings beauteous,
Where no sinful thing hath trod;
There the Angels, glad and duteous,
Tend the new-made sons of God;

Joy, alas! is turned to mourning!
Sin has come, and death, and strife:
Where the flaming sword is turning
Cherubs guard the tree of life.