tions, that, once felt, can never be forgotten. There was a rich commingling of the sublime and the beautiful; and the rush of the varied emotions of wonder, admiration, awe, delight, was most overpowering-most exquisite.

At that moment a harsh voice broke on our ears, and, turning from the contemplation of that magnificent scene, we saw standing by the side of the char-a-banc a cretin,-one of the unfortunate idiots that abound in that region, -who, with uncouth grimaces and offensive pertinacity, demanded our attention and laid claim to our sympathy. The revulsion of feeling which this incident produced was most intensely painful. Around us was nature in her most marvellous forms and aspects; each valley and ravine a picture of quiet and sombre beauty; each mountain-summit, flashing here and there with silver snows, a throne where grandeur and sublimity reigned; but amid these wondrous scenes that filled the vision, and whose solemn influence stole silently and imperceptibly into the soul, lifting it up into the region of the pure and the perfect, was an object the most affecting and painful it is possible to behold--the wreck of an intelligent mind -poor, smitten humanity in ruins. It was to

us, though we were but passing travellers, the shadow on our path, clothing our spirits with a temporary gloom, on that day of otherwise almost unclouded brightness. We recognized and felt, even while we shuddered, that though many links had been broken of the chain that bound that miserable object to our common nature, still it belonged to the great human family, and claimed a similar relationship to ourselves with the divine Father; and with silent thanksgivings for the precious boon which we possessed, and of which the poor cretin was so sadly destitute, we pursued our way.

Human life is not unlike that day's journey -a chequered scene, where the brightness and the gloom cross and re-cross each other; the streams of sorrow flowing by the side of those of joy, and sometimes, for a moment, strangely mingling their different currents; an April day, made up of sunshine and showers.

Although the subject of this lecture is a sombre one, and the very title itself suggestive of gloom, yet it is not with the design of merely producing melancholy reflections, still less of exciting or ministering to a sickly sentimentalism, or leading you to depreciate the true value of life, that I have selected it. But here

is a fact which we do well to contemplatethere is a shadow on every path, and there is a discoverable cause. Now, a right understanding of this,-which every one does not possess,will enable us to meet certain inevitable occurrences aright. If I lead you for awhile with me, down to the depths of the gloomy valley that lies before us, it will be because through it lies the way to the delectable mountains beyond, where everlasting sunshine reposes, and the shadows of sorrow and of night for ever vanish away.

I have chosen this scripturally preserved fragment of the history of Naaman the Syrian for our meditation, because I think there will be found, within the briefly recorded yet striking incidents that are here set before us, illustrations of some of the most important truths that relate to man's present and eternal welfare. In my remarks, I shall interweave along with references to the various portions of his history, found in the solitary chapter that speaks of him, such reflections as appear appropriate thereto, and are for the most part suggested by the facts that are presented to our notice.

The words with which the chapter commences

are very striking; evidently selected with care by the sacred writer, for the purpose of showing, by a startling contrast, the really painful and degraded position of the Syrian noble. "Now Naaman, captain of the host of the king of Syria, was a great man with his master, and honourable, because by him the Lord had given deliverance unto Syria: he was also a mighty man in valour, but he was a leper."

How the sentences seem to swell with the enunciations of Naaman's greatness! They remind us of a herald proclaiming the style and titles of a mighty prince. But when the climax appeared to be near, how sudden the transition from the sentence that sets before us the successful warrior to that which places him before us in the lowest depths of humiliation! How strong the revulsion of feeling produced! It seems as if all that had been said previously of his greatness was intended only to make his calamity look the more dark; the last sentence of this verse being a terrible foil to all that preceded it; its gloomy aspect darkening and overshadowing all the sunshine that had gone before.

Naaman is represented as high in rank and station; a great favourite with his master, who

deservedly esteemed him, as a brave and intrepid soldier, by whom the arms of Syria had been made triumphant in many a field. He occupied a position at the court of Benhadad which was at once honourable and influential; apparently second to none but the King. Wealth, rank, honours, fame; the confidence of his master, and the applauses of a warlike nation, ever ready to idolize military genius, were doubtless his; so that amid the courtiers of the king he stood pre-eminent; flattered, fawned upon, and obsequiously obeyed. As a natural concomitant of all this prosperity, no doubt, there were some who envied him for his attainments, advantages, and position. By those who were unacquainted with the existence of that disease which flung a dark cloud over every day's sunniest hours, and who judged of things according to their mere holiday aspect, there might be the reflection, "How exalted this man's position! how happy his lot! prosperity seems to have set her seal upon him, and fortune to have selected him for her favourite son, and crowned him with her choicest royal favours."

But why, amid all the homage he receives, and all the splendour that encircles him, is that