x 62 thrilling storm scene. 
Awed in its presence, the little party were, for 
some time, silent, but, as the voices of the storm 
grew less deafening and continuous, their emo- 
tions took form in words. 
“ Is it not grand ?" said Mrs. Maxwell, as she 
leaned over the brink of the precipice, and gazed 
with rapped face upon the tempest below her. 
“It is, indeed !” replied Mr. Maxwell. “Had 
this scene been the object of our coming here, we 
should be amply repaid for our long, hard climb. 
Now we can see what is meant by rising above 
life's clouds and storms." 
“Yes," she said, “who, looking up to these 
clouds from the valley below, could imagine this 
dazzling, sunlit picture ? I wish I could know 
that the storms and clouds of life had such a 
radiant, glorified side, and that from the calm 
heights of this positive knowledge, I could look 
down upon its roar of conflict and rain of tears, 
and see that all is needful and therefore well." 
“Ah, Mrs. Maxwell, you echo a very deep 
wish in many a heart," said the doctor; “but 
most of us weak mortals feel as little hope of its 
realization as you would expect, had you wished, 
as some vagrant poet did, to be lying, 
“ With idle hands, unvexed by care, 
On yonder cloud’s white fleecy breast, 
’Mid depths of blue, sunflooded air. 
Entranced in blissful, dream-filled rest.” 
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