lows. Philip had not hoped ever again to behold a silver stream, or to hear the lapse of waters, or the cry of the quail in the cornfields, or the murmur of men from the gates of a city. His eye surveyed the landscape, and at length fixed on a distant point of the horizon. The disciple, who watched him, inquired wherefore he gazed so steadfastly.
“Seest thou the blue hill which rises afar?” replied Philip. “It is Nebo, whither Jehovah led Moses to behold this land. To me it now appears fairer than in times past, when I sorrowed that the prophet might not enter. Now I also have abode in the desert, and to me this is a land flowing with milk and honey.”
“Was it on yonder space that our forefathers encamped when Balak summoned Balaam to curse them?” inquired the disciple.
“It was. And there, behold where the waters of Jordan parted, that the people of Jehovah might pass over: and beyond is the place where Elijah departed in glory. Our city is sanctified for ever, because prophets of the Lord have made it their abode.”
While Philip spoke, he still hastened onwards. While his spirit drank in the beauty
