is continually exerting and receiving an influence, more or less powerful, according to the circumstances in which he is placed. The man that continues in sin, not only destroys himself, but many others who are under his influence. Parents have thus often destroyed their children, and friend has dragged friend to perdition. Many a parent, who would shudder at the thought of plunging a dagger into the body of his child, can deliberately murder its immortal soul.

XXXIV.

Ir, at every night, we were obliged to give an account of the day to God, would not our manner of spending it be different? The time of reckoning is only deferred. We may forget, but God will not forget the slightest action.

PRINCETON, N. J.

J. A.

SAINT JOHN'S VISION.

By Patmos shore the exile stood,
And on the dark Ægean flood
Looked calmly. O'er the mountains wild
The Sabbath evening sweetly smiled;

The leaf was resting in the grove;
The clouds hung motionless above;
And on the land and on the sea,
Each echo slept most quietly.
It was an hour the prophet sought,
For holy meditative thought.
With folded arms he stood, and eye

Fixed on the bright reflected sky,
Like one who saw, beneath that sea,

The secrets of eternity.

To him it seemed, as if the time

Had come, when nature's glorious chime

Would cease, and from their silent graves, Beneath the ground or in the waves,

The sleeping prisoners would rise,

To bliss or wo unending in the skies.

But hark! his ear what sound then smote?
Was it the trumpet's thrilling note?

Or distant thunder's angry roar,
Or rush of ocean on the shore?
Sudden he turned and upward gazed,—
All heaven above with glory blazed.
A moment's breathless pause-when lo,
Ascending silent-solemn-slow,

The deep blue curtain rolled on high;
What scenes then burst upon his eye!
The everlasting city bright

Beamed like a sun with living light.
Upon a sea of glass there shone,

In mid heaven set, a glorious throne,
That, like a pyramid of gold

And precious stones and gems untold
Heaped on a level mirror, seemed

A double pile. Above it gleamed

A bow of pure celestial ray,

That poured through heaven eternal day. As the clear orb that seems to rest

Upon some icy mountain's breast,

So on his high and dazzling throne
Appeared the everlasting Son.
Far whiter was his hair than snow,
His face more bright than noonday glow,
His eye outvied the lightning's glance,
His tongue the warrior's glittering lance.
Within his hand, like beacon light
Upon some far off shore at night,
A constellation glimmered. Down,
E'en to his brazen feet, a gown
Of priestly fashion swept its fold.
As some vast tower, by bolt of heaven
Or sudden shock of earthquake riven,
Backward the prophet reeling fell.
But soon he rose, by secret spell
Or hand upheld of Israel's Lord.
'Fear not,' exclaimed the Eternal Word,
'I am the First, and I the Last,
The sum of present, future, past,
Maker of all created things,

The Lord of lords, the King of kings.
On truth's eternal pages bright

Record, in lines of burning light,

The scenes which are or soon shall be

On earth and in eternity.'

Thus spake the ever glorious Word,
Whose voice shall ne'er again be heard,
Until it shake this mortal shore,

And swear that time shall be no more.
Down the celestial curtain rolled,

'Mid hymns of praise on harps of gold.
Still by the dark Egean flood,
The pensive exile gazing stood,
And balanced in his reason seemed,
Whether he saw or only dreamed.

Z. M.