Water.

The fleecy cloud.

Snow storms and snow flakes.

and as little mechanical in its structure, as any thing can possibly be; and yet weeks would not be sufficient to describe its wonders. See it now gliding in a smooth gentle current to the ocean, over golden sands, enchain ing us for hours upon its banks, to gaze upon its rippling surface, and into its clear depths,-and now rolling in the billows of the ocean, which toss, with terrific power, the proudest structures that men can frame, as easily as they do the floating sea-weed. Again it assumes an invisible form, and the same particles, under a different law, float imperceptible in the atmosphere, or by their almost resistless repulsion, work the mightiest engines which man can construct. The Protean substance again appears to us in the form of a light fleecy cloud, sailing in the clear blue sky. And what is a cloud? It presents only a surface of whiteness to the eye: but it is composed of countless drops, turned to their true spherical form with mathematical precision, and gently descending through the air, as fast as their superior weight can find its way. Every fleecy cloud is in fact a shower, with drops smaller indeed than those of rain, and descending more slowly, and consumed by the warm air below them, before they reach the earth. If we could see the gradual formation and dissipation of such a drop, as particle after particle comes to increase it, or flies away, we should see the operation of the Deity; and when we think how many clouds and storms sweep over the sky, every minute globule of which must be formed under the hand of God, we shall see how boundlessly multiplied are the operations of his hands.

Come out in the snowvast extent of country

But the half is not yet told. storm, and after surveying the buried in its white wintry covering, look up into the sky, and estimate, if you can, the millions of descending flakes. Every one of these flakes, countless as they are, is formed and fashioned after its proper model. It is crys

Perfect workmanship.

The bubble.

Its structure.

talized in a precise form, every particle takes its precise place, every point of the beautiful star has its proper acuteness, and although in an hour a southern rain is to melt and destroy them all, still not one is neglected, not one is slighted, but every individual flake, of all the millions, is fashioned with as much exactness and care as if it was expressly intended for the examination of the chymist or philosopher. Now think of the vast fields of snow which whiten the arctic regions,-think of the eternal storms which sweep the polar skies, and which follow the retreating sun every season, far down towards his own peculiar climes, and conceive, if you can, the extent of the work, which the all pervading Deity has continually to do.

There is then no end to the forms which this simple substance assumes, in the changes through which the Deity carries it. I will mention one more, because it illustrates peculiarly the idea that the most common objects are the most extraordinary, if we really look at them with an observing eye. It is the bubble; one of the most surprising things in nature, and yet one at which nobody ever thinks of being surprised.

In order that we may examine it more conveniently, let ùs imagine it to be enlarged, for it is plain that its character does not depend at all upon its size. Imagine it then to be enlarged; suppose one, twenty feet in height, were to stand before you. What a magnificent dome! Pure, transparent, glistening in the sun, and irised by a thousand hues, which float and wave and spread in graceful and ceaseless motion on its surface! And yet this dome is built, by its architect, of what? Of marble blocks, fitted into one another with the care which man must exercise to construct his arch or dome? Of iron bars to strengthen the sides and sustain the summit? No: but of fluid particles, which glide and swim among each other, as if they had no connexion

Its wonderful mechanism.

Intellectual and moral exhibitions.

whatever. They are bound together, firmly and exactly balanced, and yet with such admirable skill, that every one is free to float and move where it will. The edifice is so strong, that if a heavy body falls upon it, it either glides down its side, or cleaves its summit; and the magic structure safely withstands the shock. It regains in an instant its form, as true, as symmetrical and as perfect as before; and yet, stable as it thus is, every stone in the edifice is in motion, and glides gracefully, and at perfect liberty, among the rest. It is indeed a wonder. The laws of reflection and cohesion and equilibrium, which every bubble brings into play, it would require a volume to elucidate, and yet the mighty operator, seeming to find pleasure in endless occupation, dashes them out in the utmost perfection, under every waterfall; by means of them he surmounts every one of the countless waves of ocean, with its snowy crest, and whitens a hundred thousand miles of sandy beach and rocky shore, with a perpetual fringe of foam.

But after all, innumerable and wonderful as are these works of the Deity, these modes of acting out his attributes, there are far more interesting manifestations of his character, For, exciting and animating as are such glimpses as these of the workings of the Almighty, it is only such attributes as skill, power, taste, invention, which are brought into view by them. They are most striking exhibitions it is true, but they are exhibitions of cold intellect only, after all. The splendor of the evening sky, the sublimity of a tempest, the exquisite delicacy of structure which we see in microscopic plants and animals, affect us strongly, but it is little more than a philosophical interest in a power and a skill, so infinitely varied in its designs, and so admirable in its execution.

But you can go much farther than this, you can examine even in nature, the moral exhibitions of God's

An imaginary walk in June.

God is love.

character, and as we pass from these examples of mere mechanism, to those which exhibit to us the moral feelings of the being who performs these works, our hearts are touched. I will take, to illustrate this, one of the lowest examples of what I mean.

It is June. We walk out in some retired and uninhabited region, in the midst of the forests, and find all nature thronged with active and happy life. Insects unnumbered sport in the sun, or skip upon the bright surface of the lake. Nimble animals chase one another upon the branches of the trees, or hide in hollow trunks, or gather nuts and fruits which fall around them, in inexhaustible profusion. And what is all this for? Perhaps for hundreds of miles around, there is not a human habitation; no human eye will witness this scene, and no human want will be supplied by any thing it produces. What is it for? What motive induces these efforts? Why, it is because this mighty architect whose power is so great, and whose field is so boundless, loves to exercise that power in every corner of that wide spread field, for the purpose of producing enjoyment. No person can look on such a scene, with any thing like proper views of it, without feeling a glow of new interest and warmer attachment towards its mighty Author. The mere proofs of power and contrivance and skill, in the specimens of mechanism which have been noticed, awaken strong intellectual interest;-but it touches the heart, and awakens a deeper and warmer emotion there, when we see this architect, while actually carrying on the mighty mechanism of the heavens, still busily engaged in this secluded valley, filling thousands and millions of his creatures with enjoyment, as if taking pleasure in witnessing the frolics of an insect; and drawing so copiously upon his stores of skill and power, to make a squirrel or a robin happy.

The robin; just look for a moment at his nest in the

The robin and his nest.

God's care of him.

The pair.

midst of this valley of peace. It is fixed securely in a cluster of branches, sheltered just enough by the foliage around, and in it are three or four tender, helpless, unfledged birds lying together. The open air and the broad sky is over their heads; nothing but the hanging leaf protects them from an enemy. They have no power to fly, no power to resist; hunger is coming on and they cannot provide food; but they lie alone and helpless and weak, the very picture of defencelessness and exposure.

But they are safe and happy. God makes them his care. They cannot bear cold; God has guarded them against it, by so poising the ponderous earth, and so carefully regulating its motions, that no nipping frost, and no storm of snow can possibly come to desolate their little dwelling. They cannot defend themselves from violence or escape from it. True; and God has so regulated the instincts and propensities of the millions of living things around them, that they shall be exposed to none. They cannot provide themselves with food, and it will take but very few hours to bring them to excruciating suffering unless they are supplied. But they will be supplied. God has sent out his messengers to provide for them. One flies from tree to tree in a distant part of the forest, and the other perhaps hops upon the shore of the brook or pond. The trees around them are filled with thousands of other birds, alluring them by their songs, and brighter vales and more shady trees invite them to stay. But no. God has bound them to one another; and to their helpless young, by a mechanism, as incomprehensible as it is beautiful in its results. It allows them to fly freely and unfettered as they choose, but it retains its indissoluble hold wherever they go. No song of a stranger will make them forget one another; no other nest will lead them to forget their own; no sunny bank or shady grove will have charms enough to detain them; but faithful to their trust they toil industriously through the day, and unless