it is very desirable to have a mind so constituted, and a heart so cultivated as to be susceptible of generous and grateful appreciation of things of beauty; to feel the charming influence of a bright spring morning, the mild radiance of a summer's evening, or the sweeping grandeur of an autumnal storm. The true effect of the love of nature is an increase of confidence in the Creator; it is a faithful and sacred element of human feeling: "That is to say," observes Ruskin, "supposing all circumstances otherwise the same with respect to two individuals, the one who loves nature most will be always found to have more faith in God than the other." The same distinguished writer has said in his splendid book on "Modern Painters," that, "Intense love of nature is, in modern times, characteristic of persons not of the first order of intellect, but of brilliant imagination, quick sympathy, and undefined religious principle, suffering also usually under strong and ill-governed passions; while in the same individual it will be found to vary at different periods, being, for the most part, strongest in youth, and associated with force of emotion, and with indefinite and feeble powers of thought; also, throughout life, perhaps developing itself most at times when the mind is slightly unhinged by love, grief, or some other of the passions.

"But, on the other hand, while these feelings of delight in natural objects cannot be construed into signs of the highest mental powers, or purest moral principles, we see that they are assuredly indicative * 66 Selections," p. 314.

of minds above the usual standard of power, and endowed with sensibilities of great preciousness to humanity; so that those who find themselves entirely destitute of them, must make this want a subject of humiliation, not of pride." There is no dignity in the indifference which cannot perceive beauty, and there is no comfort in the coldness which never thrills with emotion.

The best elixir vitæ, or essence of life, says an ingenious author, "is a run into the country, to luxuriate in the green fields and woods, to yield ourselves up to the influences of pure air, and the charms of natural scenery."

وو

It must indeed be pleasant to merchants, clerks, students, and mechanics, every now and then to be set free from engrossing cares to seek the bracing hills and lovely landscapes of our native land; to wander in a rich valley in the first blush of the dawn, and listen to the merry lark, as, rising from her grassy nest, she shakes the dew from her wings, and springs so cheerily to meet the morning.

To enjoy nature it is not necessary to have a profound and intimate acquaintance with the physical phenomena presented to our view, or of the peculiar character of the region surrounding us, as Humboldt has observed, but to gaze in thoughtful contemplation on the various objects of the landscape, "In the uniform plain bounded only by a distant horizon, where the lowly heather, the cistus, or waving grasses, deck the soil; on the ocean shore, where the waves, softly rippling over the beach, leave a track, green with the weeds of the sea;

everywhere, the mind is penetrated by the same sense of the grandeur and vast expanse of nature, revealing to the soul, by a mysterious inspiration, the existence of laws that regulate the forces of the universe. Mere communion with nature, mere contact with the free air, exercise a soothing yet strengthening influence on the wearied spirit, calm the storm of passion, and soften the heart when shaken by sorrow to its inmost depths.' Such are the words of a great thinker, who combined a philosophic habit with most extensive travel, and whom German students bore with palms to his grave.

It is not my intention to detain you by an elaborate disquisition on the abstract principles of beauty and sublimity; but rather to invite you to meadows and groves, to bye-lanes and sea-shores, that you may pick up pebbles and shells, gather wild-flowers and ferns, and feel like children again, while yet, at the same time, you cultivate a higher taste, and prepare for a manlier discharge of the duties of life.

It was a grave mistake of Schiller's, in his letters on æsthetic culture, when he said that the sense of beauty never farthered the performance of a single duty. Every true traveller, every summer tourist, every susceptible student, must feel how contrary to experience is such a statement. "It is not possible," says Ruskin, "for a Christian man to walk across so much as a rood of the natural earth, with mind unagitated and rightly poised, without receiving strength and hope from some stone, flower, leaf, or

sound, nor without a sense of a dew falling upon him out of the sky."*

A devout naturalist has defined beauty as God's hand-writing. This is a brief but expressive definition, and not difficult to understand; for who cannot see the traces of the Divine hand on the tablets of the universe?

The royal Psalmist by a bold figure, invests the heavens with consciousness, and represents them as declaring the glory of God, and showing forth His handiwork.

Basil called the stars "the everlasting blossoms of heaven." Shakspeare describes the firmament as "the majestical roof fretted with golden fire." You may have seen on the soft, blue sky, above the purple, amber, and delicate pale green of the horizon, the crescent moon gleaming in brightness, and close by her side, like a lustrous jem set in sapphire, a lovely evening star; as they shed down mild radiance on your path, instinctively you exclaimed, "How beautiful!" That joyous expression was the voice of your soul, unconsciously attesting the lines of beauty written by the hand of God.

We may trace this handwriting on the verdant plains which form the carpet of nature, for even flowers, as they swing their censer-cups to the breeze, and fill the air with delicious perfumes, speak for God.

"Wondrous truths, and manifold as wondrous,

God hath written in those stars above;
But not less in the bright flowerets under us
Stands the revelation of His love.

*"Selections," p. 335.

"Bright and glorious is that revelation,

Written all over this great world of ours;

Making evident our own creation,

In these stars of earth,—these golden flowers."

LONGFELLOW.

On the plumage of birds and wings of insects the rich pencillings and charming metallic lustres are touches of Divine skill. Birds of Paradise are called by the inhabitants of Molucca, "God's birds," they are so exceedingly beautiful.

This handwriting may also be traced on the luminous and many-coloured scales of fishes, as they glide noiselessly amid the corals, crystals, and tinted algae of the green sea. Go down the dark mysterious staircase of the geologist into stony depths where the keen-eyed vulture never gazed nor the lion roamed; even there, amid the hard rocks, you are not out of the realm of the beautiful. You are charmed with the grace of fossiliferous ferns and flora, and with the hues which gleam in iridescent beauty from shells and fish. The soul of such a man as the late lamented Hugh Miller thrills at the sight of the lovely blendings of colour, white and pink, purple and green; he discerns in the exquisite tracery evidence of Divine goodness. And if we thus apprehend the æsthetic and the moral in happy conjunction, mind and heart will warm at once with gratitude and gladness.

Professor Allman, in a paper read before the Royal Institution, March 7th, 1873, says, (of the Coral Islands) :66 He directed attention to the most superficial zone of the tropical ocean-that zone