Certainly, my dear," said Mr. Howard. "Are we not now, especially, surrounded with the displays of God's goodness? It is the good God who is watering the hills from his chambers: the earth is satisfied with the fruit of his works. He is causing the grass to grow for cattle, and herb for the service of man, and oil to make his face to shine, and bread that strengtheneth man's heart. Beasts, and birds, and the innumerable race of creatures, these all wait on thee, O God: thou givest them their meat in due season; thou openest thy hand, and they are filled with good. Should an earthly monarch pass through his dominions, every where scattering his favours among his dutiful and affectionate subjects, every eye would admire him, every heart would throb with grateful emotions, and every tongue would celebrate his praise. The gracious God is now passing through a rebellious world, to load it with his richest blessings. And shall we close our eyes, and shut out the rays of his glory? Shall he not be beloved by us? Shall we be silent, amidst the transport of the earth and of the heavens? Shall we have nothing to say, amidst the glad acclamations of universal being? O Edwin, if our understandings are accessible, if our hearts are penetrable, if they are not made of stone, we

shall pour forth some grateful notes, to swell the hymn of boundless praise."

"You recollect, papa," said Edwin, "you gave me dear mamma's microscope. I am now never at a loss for amusement. I think, as I examine the flowers and little insects I find in the garden, I every day see more and more of the wisdom of God, even in the smallest things which his hand has formed."

"Yes, Edwin, the wisdom of God is to be seen in every season, and in every creature. It is visible in the elephant and in the fly; in the meridian sun, and in the little glow-worm. It especially shines in this beautiful season of the year. You may see it in the formation of animals; in the suitability of their organs to the purposes they are to answer; in the diversity of food provided for the innumerable tribes of animated nature; in the production of so many delightful flowers, arrayed in more glory than Solomon when in all his magnificence and splendour. The assertion of Dr. Young, when properly considered, that 'there is a process going on in every flower, sufficient to frighten a man out of -infidelity,' ceases to be extravagant. I hail the spring, also, as richly displaying the superintending providence of God. No, Edwin, we do not live in a fatherless world. His hand alone could have made so vast an alteration be

tween January and May. The earth would cease to bring forth; the sun would shine no longer; creation would languish and die, without the constant care of the great Author of all good. I should as soon expect that a field would be properly cultivated, by merely conveying a plough into it, without the aid or care of man, as I should expect creation to move harmoniously on without God. Some, indeed, would exclude him from his works: they would spare the Almighty the trouble and labour of continual action-the pain and weariness of unremitting vigilance:

'So man, the moth, it seems, is not afraid
To span omnipotence, and measure might,
That knows no measure, by the scanty rule
And standard of his own, that is to-day,
And is not ere to-morrow's sun goes down.'

But it is time, Edwin, that we should direct our steps homewards. This delightful season is pregnant with instruction, and we will resume the subject in a future walk, perhaps to-morrow. In the mean time, you will be much pleased to commit to memory some verses I wrote last evening. Here, Edwin, is a copy of them.

THE MAY EVENING.

Farewell to the sadness

Of winter, for spring Has array'd all in gladness, The hills and vales ring: The word of high Heaven

Has quicken'd the earth, And a loveliness given, E'en as at her birth.

What melodies cheer me,

And on the breeze float;

That music, so near me,

Is Philomel's note:
Sweet bird! who can emulate

A lay such as thine?

Mellifluous, delicate,

Impassion❜d, divine.

Once more there thrills round me

Her ravishing strain;

The charm has spell-bound me,

Again and again:

Hark! she pours her sweet story

The valley along;

All unrivall❜d in glory,

And grandeur of song.

Tufts and garlands of flowers
Deck the scene all around;
And the fine balmy showers
Have freshen❜d the ground:
All her charms spring discloses;
Wherever we tread,

She lifts, crown'd with roses,

Her beautiful head.

The horizon is glowing

With the sun's setting beam;
Which each wave, gently flowing,
Reflects from the stream:

The scene smiles with pleasure,
Refulgent with gold;
Gives a joy beyond measure,

Nor can it be told.

Though the day is declining,
The empress of night,
Ere long, softly shining,

Will display her sweet light.

Since God here below,

Has a paradise given,

What will he bestow,

When we meet him in heaven?

CHAP. III

THE next day, Edwin and his papa took their accustomed walk. After they had conversed for some time about the lessons of the morning, they came to a very interesting spot, where a seat had been placed, which overlooked a delightful valley, covered with corn and grass