WORKS 
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 PROVI- 
 
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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2023 with funding from 
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 ttps://archive.org/details/reflectionsonwor21stur 
 
REFLECTIONS 
 
 oN 
 
 ‘THE WORKS 
 
 PROVIDENCE OF GOD 
 
 ALL NATURE, 
 
 FOR 
 
 EVERY DAY IN THE YEAR. 
 
 —————— 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF 
 CHRISTOPHER CHRISTIAN STURM. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL, Ii. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 
 PUBLISHED AND SOLD BY 
 OGLE, ALLARDICE & THOMSON, 
 
 M, OGLE, GLASGOW 5 OGLES, DUNCAN & COCHRAN, LONDON G 
 AND JOHNSTON & DEAS, DUBLIN. 
 
 1818, 
 
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 CONTENTS OF VOL. IL’ ~ 
 
 ; Page » 
 FOREIGN plants» «6 ess 4 
 Transformation of anil OS iy A is WAI! - 
 The silkworm . a ; R - Seo ha 
 The rainbow . Sa tk . . 6 
 Birds’ nests + ‘ F 3 Process 3 id, 
 Variety of pleasures in nature . : ; a a 
 Reflections on a flower garden . : : ie 
 
 The phenomena of a thunder storm + . ‘ ee. am 
 The ants . “ ; ; F . . =) 15 
 ee a a ce 
 Utility of storms .« * mins a ails asin Siac 
 The earth and its original caer . me 
 The phases of the moon» wih cea" dl Ah ae 
 Mineral waters ; mnie = 
 Continual activity of erty in mike eclae re 27 
 The beauty and utility of meadows and, bint ., 28 
 The moraing twilight “ ‘ See 
 Evening twilight 4 vale is eg Skane 
 The ephemeral fly - 5 - PMR: Sai Hy eo” 
 
 Nothing perishes in nature. F i ‘ pa 
 Difference of zones ig = ee ee ci ae 
 Singularities of the sea _ - ii RS 6 
 
 Different shades observable in famens Cae Meals - 42 
 
 The great heats of summer ‘ - =p ik ea ae 
 
 Remarkable properties in animals Bris . 46. 
 The human face, : a - hres 
 
 _ The gravity of bodies wip wie ihe sue hie CD 
 Vol. Il... a.. 
 
i. CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Various effects in nature proceeding from the same 
 cause . ; ‘ - ; - SF 
 Some diseases of | eer 4 ; 53 
 
 Means of subsistence which nite aiid to iecitaial 55 
 Variety in the stature of man. . : - a 
 Meditation on the works of nature. . .- 58 
 Vegetation of the stalk of wheat . . os 7 ee 
 The dog-days . . . : . ° -* 61 
 Sleep . : : ‘ ° - 63 
 Divisibility of sthttex ° | 
 Outward construction in the Pall of insects - 66 
 Comparison between the senses vf men and those of 
 
 animals . 4 § ‘ F - 68 
 Thunder . : : A 4 -.. We PO 
 Contemplation on a meadow ; . Fag, | 
 
 Mischief occasioned by animals . . .« « 7 
 Variety of colours. Fico . : - 6 
 Buildings of the beavers. : an 
 Manner i in which the nutrition of: the Body i is effected 80 
 Nature considered in different points of view . 81 
 Mischief which may be occasioned by rain .- ~. 83 
 Care of animals for their young « ‘ : - 85 
 Several sorts of extraordinary ram .  . . 87 
 Sensitive plants . . : . : . 88 
 The fear of storms . ‘ ‘ . - 90 
 Summer presents us with images of deal : a 
 Causes of the heat of the earth ». a 
 Variety of plants : - : . - 95 
 Reflections on the animal orelibeas : oft, MASE 
 Division of the.earth .. ee Su FE9Q99 
 Nature and properties of light-. =.  « «10% 
 The formation of birds : : any - 103 
 Reflections on the sky 5 
 Moral reflections on a corn = 3 : LO 
 _ Shellfish. . oj 
 -On the government * God P. 
 
 @ 
 . 
 re 
 we 
 — 
 > 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 The strength of the human body compared Sth that 
 
 ofanimais . » 145 
 Instinct of the tte in the prapagation o its 
 
 species Ao - 47 
 Thevine . .- . 148 
 Daily wonders eee i ny God 150 
 Digestion of food 152 
 Th be prevalence of good over nicole m this neon - 154 
 Enmity between.animals . 156 
 Moral use of the night 158 
 Mawn’s indifference to the works of gtk 160 
 Various nocturnal meteors : “adil 162 
 Nature displayed 5 : . 165 
 Amphibious animals . - 167 
 The perfection ‘f God’s stirs : : - 170 
 
 REGUL us 7 i w172- 
 
 Invitation -to praise God Sag : 174 
 
 Hymn to the praise of God . : 
 Lhe effects of fire Meh Nae, 3 d : 
 Vol. Ti. .° a2 
 
 Sith 
 
 Page 
 
 Harvest. Hymn . : ‘ - 112 
 A Hyun of praise to the Most Hoh : «113 
 The omnipresence of God . . : 114 
 The beauty and variety of the tte otS 
 The growth of trees . : Sietvat nog Bey 
 The ant-lion . : : + 118 
 Conformity between plants wit bescrsecl - 120 
 The nature and properties of sound . 122 
 The mysteries of nature. : 40 Tis » 124 
 The eyes of animals . » 127 
 Fish : . - 129 
 Motions which badass f the erie bod and iad ‘131 
 Influence of the-moon on the human body . «188 
 The ignis fatuus Bite oiw, 135. 
 Pemmmenerais -. 8 SS UNIS re ete 137 
 Exotic plants . : 5 : . ot =a 
 Reflections on myself » 142 
 
iv. CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 Instinct and industry of birds .  . : - 178 
 Animal reproductions du wis ‘ - + 180 
 The organs of taste . : ‘ « > « 182 
 
 Providence of God with respect to natural events 184 — 
 The inexhaustible riches of nature F eos es 185 
 Peirifactions . o  . lieetia BBE 
 Every thing in nae as bbe dell dp wii GD 
 Fall oftheleaf. owriu eS ae 
 Different sorts of earth  . Wiis — «) « W92~- 
 
 Wine x - . ° 4 » 194 
 Migration of the lied : a © . - 196 
 Varietu of trees ‘ - 198 
 
 Temperature in different viata of the earth - 200 
 Atmosphere of the earth . d . te - 202 
 Proportion between births and deaths . ‘ - 204 
 Ravages in the kingdom of nature. « +» 206 
 Circulation of the blood . F «mites 
 Proportions of different parts of the fists body 211 | 
 Navigation _ y 3 sans 3 218 
 Beasts of burden . : e . 2 . 216 
 Winter seed-time . oo een 
 Particular Providence of God 4 5 - 219 
 ‘The measure and division of time  - «+ «220 
 
 The end of summer . ° - 222 
 Magnificence of God in the dela “of the creation 224 
 Laws of inertion aad es + 226 
 The wants of man. - wh iy ont hs eS 
 On presentiment : ° ee | 
 The heavens declare the adapt ab Gath + « « 232 
 A Hymn of praise. . ‘ «+ ine Gee 
 Marine animals ’ * . 237 
 Wisdom of God in cine the di ifferent parts 
 
 of nature. ° ear» ur - 238° 
 Bed - “ <li -  « 240; 
 
 Reflections on the nak summer .  « 4 - 242 
 Inconvenience of night .. . oh he oo ee 
 
REFLECTIONS 
 
 ON THE 
 
 WORKS OF GOD. 
 
 ANG OAs B 
 Foreign Plants. 
 
 Axx our different kinds of corn, and a great number 
 of our vegetables, derive their origin from foreign coun- 
 tries, and generally from warmer climates than ours.— 
 Most of them come from Italy; Italy had them from 
 Greece, and Greece from the East. When America 
 was discovered, a multitude of plants and flowers, pre- 
 
 . viously unknown, were found and transported into Eu- 
 rope, where they have been cultivated with much suc- 
 
 cess; and the English still take great pains to cultivate 
 in their own country many North American plants. 
 
 Most of the different sorts of corn, of which men and 
 animals make their best food, are grass plants; but, 
 though our fields are now covered with them, they are 
 nevertheless exotics. Rye and wheat are indigenous in 
 Little Tartary and Siberia, where they still grow with- 
 out culture. As for barley and oats, we are ignorant 
 whence they originally came, but it is certain they are 
 not natives of our climate, or it would not be necessa- 
 ry to cultivate them. Rice is the produce of Ethiopia, 
 whence it was carried into the East, and afterwards in- 
 to Italy. Since the commencement of the eighteenth 
 century it has been cultivated in America; and. they 
 now annually send vessels into Europe iaden with this 
 useful grain. Buck-wheat came originally from Asia: 
 the crusaders made it known in Italy, whence it was 
 transported into Germany. 
 
 VOL. Il. 
 
2 JULY II. 
 
 Most of our vegetables have a similar origin. Borage — 
 
 comes from Syria, cresses from Crete, cauliflower from 
 Cyprus, and asparagus from Asia. We are indebted to 
 Italy for the chervil, to Portugal and Spain for dill, to 
 the Canary Islands for fennel, and to Egypt for anni- 
 seed and parsley. Garlic is the produce of the East; 
 
 shallots come from Siberia, and horse-radish from Chi-. 
 
 na. Weare indebted for our kidney-beans to the East 
 Indies, for gourds to Astracan, for lentils to France, 
 and for potatoes to Brazil. The Spaniards found to- 
 bacco at Tobacco, a province of Jucatan, in-America. 
 The ornaments of our gardens, the most beautiful 
 flowers, are also foreign productions. Jessamine comes 
 from the East Indies, the elder-tree from Persia, the 
 tulip from Cappadocia, the daffodil from Italy, the lily 
 - from Syria, the tuberose from Java and Ceylon, the 
 carnation and pink from Italy, and the aster from 
 China. t : 
 Let us gratefully acknowledge these various presents 
 from heaven. With what goodness has God provided 
 for our happiness and enjoyment, by making even the 
 most remote countries contribute towards them! But 
 let us at the same time, learn the constitution of the 
 globe which we inhabit. There is an wniversal trans- 
 migration upon the earth: men, animals, and vegeta- 
 bles, are transplanted from one region to another; and 
 this transmigration will only terminate with our globe. 
 May we, therefore, wherever our lot may be cast, en- 
 deavour to act uprightly and sincerely; that, during 
 life, our names may be revered by the just and good, 
 and that on our removal to a fairer and a ‘better world, 
 our memory may be blest, and our loss sree gee | 
 those who have received the benefits of our philan- 
 thropic exertions. Mu h 
 
 JULY H. 
 Transformation of Caterpillars. 
 
 Tue transformation of a caterpillar into a butterfly, is 
 certainly one of the most wonderful phenomena in na- 
 ture, and highly merits our attention.” The manner in 
 which caterpillars prepare for their change is very ex- 
 traordinary: they do not all at once become butterflies, 
 but pass to it through a middle state. After shedding 
 
we 
 
 Transformation of Caterpillars. 3 
 
 its coat three or four times, the caterpillar strips itself 
 of its last skin, and becomes a substance not in the least 
 resembling a living creature. It is then enveloped in a 
 hard shelly covering called the chrysalis or nympha}; in 
 which state it remains two or three weeks, sometimes 
 six months, till at last it comes out of this kind of se- 
 
 -pulchre under the form of a butterfly. 
 
 There are, properly speaking, two sorts of butter- 
 flies: the wings of the one are raised, and those of the 
 other are flat: the former fly by day, the latter during 
 the night. The caterpillar of the nocturnal butterfly 
 spins itself a bug, and shuts itself up, when the time of 
 its transformation approaches. Those which are to be 
 diurnal butterflies hang themselves up in the open air, 
 on a tree, a plant, a wall, or some such thing. For this - 
 purpose, they make themselves a small web, with very 
 fine thread, and then, turning themselves upside down, 
 they suspend themselves so that their heads are some- 
 what inclined towards the top. Some of these, and par- 
 ticularly the hairy caterpillars, remain in this state, 
 hanging perpendicularly with their heads downward. 
 Others spin themselves a thread, which goes round the 
 middle of their bodies, and is fastened at the two sides. 
 In one or other of these two ways they prepare them- 
 selves for their great change. ‘Thus, both sorts of ca- 
 terpillars bury themselves in a manner alive, and seem 
 to wait patiently the end of their caterpillar state, as if 
 they foresaw, that, after a short repose, they were to 
 receive a new existence, and should appear again under 
 a brilliant form. 
 
 The death and resurrection of the righteous may be 
 aptly compared to the transformation of the caterpillar 
 into a butterfly. Toa true Christian, death is but a 
 sleep, a sweet repose, after the ‘pains and miseries of 
 this world; a mere moment, during which he is only 
 deprived of life and motion in order to appear again in 
 glory, and to enter into a new and better existence. 
 
 What is a caterpillar? a blind creeping despicable 
 worm, and which, while it drags on its life, is exposed 
 to numberless accidents and persecutions. Is the lot of 
 man in this world much better? 
 
 The caterpillar prepares, with great'care, for its trans- 
 formation, and that state of weakness and insensibility 
 into which it is to fall for a short time. It is exactly 
 
 A 2: 
 
4 JULY IM. 
 
 the same with a good man: he prepares before his death 
 for this important change, and waits with joy and tran- 
 quillity for the happy moment in which he is to enter 
 into a better state. 
 
 The caterpillar does not sleep for ever: its repose is 
 only the forerunner of a more perfect state. At first it 
 crawls upon the ground, but afterwards it springs up, 
 and soars into the air by means of its wings. At first 
 it was blind; but afterwards it receives sight, and en- 
 joys a thousand agreeable sensations unknown to it be- 
 fore. Formerly it fed stupidly on gross food; now it 
 goes from flower to flower, living on honey and dew, 
 and continually varying its enjoyments. 
 
 In all this we behold a lively emblem of the death 
 and resurrection of a righteous man. His weak earth- 
 ly body appears again in a glorious state of perfection 
 after his resurrection. - As a mortal, he was attached to 
 the world; subject to passions, and taken up with sen- 
 sual and earthly objects; but, after his resurrection, his 
 body is disengaged from this earth: he hovers over mil- 
 lions of worlds, and, with a clear and distinct view, he 
 takes in all nature at once. His mind soars infinitely 
 higher still; it approaches even to the Deity, and gives 
 way to the most sublime meditations. Before his death 
 he was blind in the pursuit of truth; now he sees, and 
 can behold it in its full lustre. His body being spiritual 
 and incorruptible, he no longer requires gross food to 
 satisfy his hunger. Very different sensations now form 
 his happiness, and his heart overflows with purer joys. 
 if such be the happy change we may expect, let us 
 early prepare for it. If our present state be but transi- 
 tory and imperfect, let us not make it our chief object, 
 and let not the moments we pass here appear to us with 
 the consequence of eternity. 
 
 JULY chee 
 The Silkworm. 
 
 Tue race of caterpillars, which divide into two general 
 classes (those of nocturnal and diurnal butterflies), 
 have also different families among them, each of which 
 has its distinct characteristics and properties. To one 
 of these families the appellation of si/tworm is given. . 
 This caterpillar, like the others, is composed of several 
 
The Silkworm. 5 
 
 moveable rings, and is well furnished with feet and claws 
 to rest and fix. itself where it pleases. It has two rows 
 of teeth, which do not move up and down like ours, but 
 from right to left, in order to press, cuit, and tear the 
 leaves every way. Along the whole length of its back 
 we perceive, through its skin, a vessel which performs 
 the functions of a heart. This worm has nine orifices 
 
 on each side,. which correspond with so many lungs, 
 
 and assist the circulation of the chyle, or nutritive juice.. 
 Under the mouth it has a kind of reel, with two holes, 
 through which it puts out two drops of the gum with 
 which its bag is filled. These act like two distaffs, con- 
 tinually supplying materials for making its silk. The 
 gum which distils through the two holes-takes that form, 
 and lengthens into a double thread; which suddenly 
 loses its fluidity, and acquires the consistence necessary 
 
 __ to support or to envelope the worm. When it is time 
 to be enclosed in it, it joins the two threads together, 
 gluing them one over another with its fore-feet. This 
 double thread is not only very fine,. but also very strong,. 
 and of an astonishing length. Each bag has a thread 
 which is nearly five hundred:ells long; and as this thread 
 is double, and joined together throughout its length, 
 each bag will be found to contain a thousand ells of silk,. 
 though the whole weight does not exceed two grains 
 and a half. 
 
 The life of this insect, in its caterpillar form, is very 
 short; but it passes through different states, which in- 
 sensibly bring it to perfection. When it first emerges 
 from the egg, it is extremely small, perfectly black, and 
 its head of a still brighter biack than the rest of its -bo- 
 dy: in a few days it begins to grow whitish, or of a dark 
 
 grey colour. Its coat then becomes ragged and dirty. 
 t throws it off, and appears in anew dress.. It becomes 
 large, and much whiter, but rather tinged with green, 
 as it feeds on green leaves. After a few days, more or 
 less, according to the degree of heat, and. quality ot its: 
 food and constitution, it ceases to eat. It then agitates 
 and frets itself extremely, becoming red with the efforts 
 it makes: its skin also wrinkles and shrivels up, and is 
 thrown off a second time, together with its fat. Within 
 the space of three weeks, or a month, we see it new 
 dressed three times. It now begins to eat again, and 
 might be taken for a different creature; so much is the 
 
 #3. 
 
6 JULY Iv. 
 
 appearance of its head, form, and colour altered. Af- 
 ter having eaten for some days, it falls again into a le- 
 thargy; in recovering from which it once more changes. 
 its coat, which makes the third since it. came out of the 
 shell. It still continues to eat some time; then, renoun- — 
 cing all food, it prepares itself a retreat ; and draws out: 
 a silken thread, which it wraps round its body in the 
 same manner as we wind thread round an oval piece of 
 wood. It rests quietly in the bag it has spun for itself, 
 until the end of a fortnight, when it would break through). 
 and make its way out, if it were not prevented phi 
 ting it into an. oven or hot sun, in order to kill it. These 
 silk-bags are thrown into hot water, and stirred about 
 with birch twigs, to loosen the ends of the silk, which. 
 is afterwards wound on reels made for the purpose. 
 
 Thus it is to a worm, or caterpillar, that we are in- 
 debted for the luxury of our clothing. This reflection 
 is well calculated to humble our. pride. Can we be vain 
 of the silk with which we are coyered, when we consi-. 
 der to what we owe it, and how little we ourselves con- 
 tribute towards it? Let us reflect, that even the most. 
 despicable things have been created for the advantage 
 and use of mankind. A worm, which we scarcely deign. » 
 to look at, becomes a blessing to whole provinces, a 
 considerable object of trade, and a source of riches! 
 
 Many persons resemble the silkworm, in devoting a 
 considerable part of their lives to the gratification of 
 their appetite; but how few of them become useful to 
 the world by their labours!’ May we henceforth zeal-_ 
 ously devote our strength and talents to the good of our 
 fellow-creatures, and continually labour to promote their 
 happiness. " 
 
 JULY fv 
 The Rainbow. 
 
 Wuen the sun reflects its rays on drops of water falling: 
 from the clouds, and we are placed with our backs to, 
 the sun, and with the clouds opposite to us, we observe ~ 
 arambow, We may consider the drops of rain as little 
 _ transparent globyles, on which-the rays fall, and are 
 twice refracted, and once reflected. Hence proceed 
 the different colours of the rainbow. They are seven, 
 in number, and appear in the following order: red, 
 
Birds’ Nests. T 
 
 ofange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. These 
 colours appear so much the more lively, according as 
 the cloud behind is darker, and the drops of rain fall 
 the closer. The drops continually falling produce a new 
 rainbow every moment; and as each spectator has his 
 particular situation. whence he observes this phenome- 
 non, it happens, that two men cannot, properly speaking, . 
 see the same rainbow; and this meteor can only last 
 while the rain. continues to fall. 
 
 If we consider the rainbow merely as a phenomenon. 
 
 ' of nature, it presents.one of the most beautiful specta- 
 cles we can possibly conceive, and is one of the most 
 nagnificent pictures in the creation. But when we re- 
 collect that God has. made this meteor a sign of his 
 pardon, and_of his. gracious covenant with man, we shall 
 find matter in. it. for the most edifying and pleasing re- 
 flections. 
 
 When the rain.descends. from one: extremity of the 
 horizon to the other, we cannot see.a rainbow. Every. 
 time, therefore, that this beautiful meteor appears, we 
 may be certain,that we have no deluge to apprehend ;_ 
 as in a deluge it must rain violently from every part. of 
 the sky. Thus when the sky is only covered with clouds 
 on one side, and the sun appears on the other, it isa 
 sign that these dark.clouds will disperse, and that the 
 sky will soon, become serene. This.is also the reason 
 why we cannot see a rainbow, unless the sun be behind 
 us, and the rain opposite to-us.. The sun and.rain must 
 appear at the same time in order. to form.a rainbow.— 
 No colours would be seen if. the sky were too light ; 
 therefore, where it appears, the horizon must be cover- 
 ed with dark clouds. Neither could the colours in the 
 rainbow exist without the refraction of the rays of the 
 sun upon it. 
 
 JULY’ V.. 
 Birds’ Nests. 
 
 Tue construction of birds’ nests discovers many curious 
 objects, which cannot be indifferent to a mind desirous 
 of information. Who is there that would not admire 
 those regular little edifices, composed of so many differ- 
 ent materials, collected and arranged with so much care 
 and judgment, constructed with such industry, ele- 
 
8 JULY V. 
 
 gance and neatness, without any other tool than a bill 
 and two feet? It is not astonishing that men can erect 
 great buildings according to the rules of art, when we — 
 consider that the artists are endued with reason, and. 
 have tools and materials in abundance. But that a bird,. 
 unprovided with any thing for the purpose, except its — 
 bill and feet, should be capable of uniting so much re-— 
 gularity, solidity, and judgment, in the construction of 
 its nest, is what can never be too much admired. 9 
 Nothing is more wonderful than the nest of a gold- 
 finch; the inside of it-is lined with cotton-wool and fine 
 silky thread; the outside is woven with thick moss, the 
 colour of which resembles the bark of the tree on which 
 the nest is laid, in order that it should be less observed, 
 and less exposed to the eyes of passengers. There are 
 some nests in which the hair, the down, and the straws, 
 are curiously laid across and interwoven: there are o- 
 thers the parts of which are neatly joined and tied to- 
 gether with a thread, which the bird makes out of flax,. 
 tow, and horse hair, or, more generally, of spiders’ 
 webs. Some birds, as the blackbird and lapwing, plaster 
 the inside of their nest with a thin coat of mortar, which 
 cements and keeps together all the bottom parts; and’ 
 then, while it is fresh, they stick some moss to it, in or- 
 der to make it warm and close. Swallows’ nests are of 
 a different construction: they neither require sticks, 
 straws, nor ligaments ; but they know how to compose 
 a sort of cement, with which they make themselves 
 .nests, perfectly secure, neat, and convenient. Their 
 method"of moistening this cement is by going frequent- 
 ly to dip their breasts in the water, and then shaking it 
 off upon it, till it is thoroughly steeped, after which 
 they work it up together with their bills: But the nests 
 which deserve to be particularly admired are those of 
 certain Indian birds, which they suspend, with great 
 art, upon the branches of trees, in. order to secure 
 themselves from the pursuit of several animals and in- 
 sects. In general, each species of birds has its particu- 
 lar manner of placing its nest. Some build them on 
 houses, others on trees ; some under the grass, others 
 in the ground ; but all in the manner best adapted for 
 their security, the bringing up of their young, and the 
 preservation of their species. 
 Such is the wonderful instinct of birds in the con- 
 
Variety of Pleasures in Nature. 9 
 
 struction and situation of their nests; whence we may 
 conclude with certainty that they cannot be mere ma- 
 chines. How much industry and intelligence, skill and 
 sagacity, activity and patience, do they show in the con- 
 struction of their nests! Is it not clear, that in all their 
 work they propose to themselves certain designs? They 
 make their nest like a hollow hemisphere, that the heat 
 may be the better concentred in it. The outside of the 
 nest is covered with materials more or less coarse, not 
 only to serve as a foundation, but also to keep out the 
 wind, and prevent the entrance of insects: the inside is 
 lined with more delicate materials, such as wool and 
 down, to make it soft and warm for the tender inmates. 
 Is it not a species of reason which teaches the bird to 
 place her nest so as to be sheltered from rain, and to be 
 out of the reach of destructive animals? Where has 
 she learned that she is to have eggs, and that these eggs 
 will require a nest to prevent them from falling, and to 
 keep them warm? Who has told her that the heat 
 would not concentre round the eggs if the nest were 
 larger, nor hold alli the young ones if it were smaller 2 
 How does she know to make the nest in just proportion 
 to the number of the young who are to be hatched? 
 and how is she enabled to calculate her time so correct- 
 ly that-she never lays her eggs before her nest is finish- 
 ed? Nothing that has been hitherto said in answer to 
 these questions is satisfactory ; nor can this mystery in 
 nature be explained: it requires a more perfect know- 
 ledge of animals than we possess. But of whatever na-_ 
 ture the faculties of birds may be, it is at least certain 
 that they result from a wise and powerful cause.. And 
 as these volatiles have not a capacity to know their 
 Creator, let us employ our reason to increase in divine 
 knowledge, and devote all our faculties to the praise of 
 HIM in whom we live, and move, and have our being. 
 
 JULY VI. 
 Variety of Pleasures in Nature. 
 
 To whatever part of the creation we turn our eyes, we 
 find something to interest and gratify either our senses, 
 our imagination, or our reason. All nature combines 
 to present us with a multitude of pleasing objects, and 
 to procure for us those enjoyments which continually 
 
; 
 
 10 JULY VI. 
 
 succeed each other. There is no part of the day am 
 brings new pleasures either to our senses or our imas — 
 gination. Whilst the sun illumines the horizon, plants, — 
 animals, and a thousand pleasing objects gratify our 
 view; and when night spreads her sable mantle over the 
 earth, we are charmed and transported by the majestic 
 appearance of the firmament Universal nature labours — 
 to surprise us with new pleasures ;—the smallest insect, 
 leaf, or grain of sand, presents a subject of admiration, 
 and he who is not struck with this diversity, aad does. 
 not acknowledge in it the goodness of God, must be 
 blind and senseless indeed. 
 
 The same stream that irrigates the valley murmurs 
 soft music to our ears, allays our thirst, and inyites to 
 soft repose. ‘The shady forest, which defends us from 
 the intense heat of the sun, where we enjoy a delight- 
 ful coolness, and where we hear the melody of various 
 birds, feeds, at the same time, a multitude of animals, 
 which are themselves food for us. The trees, whose 
 beautiful blossoms lately perfumed the air, will soon 
 produce the most delicious fruits; and the fields, now 
 clothed with the ripening corn, will soon yield an abun- 
 dant harvest. Nature presents no object to_us that is 
 not pleasing and useful in more than one respect. She 
 clothes and adorns the earth with green, a colour the 
 most agreeable to the eye, and adds to its beauty by 
 diversifying its shades. How many different sorts of 
 greens are there, which go from light to dark by a thou- 
 sand degrees! Each species of plant has its peculiar 
 colour. Landscapes covered with woods, bushes, corn, 
 and herbage, afford a magnificent scene of verdure, in 
 which the tints of this colour are infinitely varied ; cros- 
 sing and intersecting each other, till they become in- 
 sensibly blended together, yet still preserving a perfect 
 harmony. Each month affords us different plants and 
 flowers. Those that have served their purpose are re- 
 placed by others; and thus successively prevent any 
 void in the vegetable kingdom. ay 
 
 But to whom do we owe these numerous and varied 
 gifts? Who is it that provides for our wants and plea- 
 sures with such goodness and munificence ? Go and 
 ask it of all nature. The hills and the valleys will re- 
 ply; the earth points him out, and the heavens are a 
 murror in which we may contemplate his perfections, 
 
Reflections on a Flower-Garden.. 11 
 
 Storms and tempests announce him; the voice of thun- 
 der, the colours of the rainbow, the snow and rain, pub- 
 lish his wisdom and goodness. The verdant meadows, 
 fields of golden grain, stupendous mountains crowned 
 with forests, trees laden with fruit, and gardens enamel- 
 led with flowers, all bear the impress of his hands. The 
 birds celebrate him with their melodious notes. The 
 sportive flocks, the stag bounding through the forest, 
 the worm of the earth, and the monarch of the seas, 
 that overturns and sinks the largest vessels ; the terrific 
 crocodile, the stately elephant, and all the numerous 
 host of animals which people the air, the earth, and the 
 sea, declare the existence and proclaim the glory of the 
 Mighty God. 
 
 How unpardonable should we be, were we deaf to 
 this general voice of nature! O let us, who are happy. 
 witnesses of the wonders of God, render him, in the 
 presence of all his creatures, that homage of gratitude 
 and adoration so justly due. Let us not harden our 
 hearts against such marks of his goodness. Let us look 
 around us. Every thing reminds us of his blessings, e- 
 very thing incites to gratitude and joy; the rich lands 
 where our food grows, the fields where our flocks graze, 
 the forests which afford us shade and fuel. Let our 
 souls be filled with it. Let the sense of our happiness, 
 and of God’s blessings, attend us in our walks, and fol- 
 low us into solitude. We shall find that there is no sa- 
 tisfaction more heart-felt, more lasting, or more con- 
 formable to human nature, than the calm pleasures 
 which the contemplation of the works of God afford. 
 
 The more we observe the beauties of nature, the more > 
 
 we shall be persuaded that our God is a God of love 
 and mercy ; and that the Christian religion is a source 
 of joy, and a continual motive for grateful adoration. 
 
 JULY VI. 
 Reflections on a Flower-Garden. 
 
 Ler us take a survey of the flower-garden, and reflect 
 on the numerous and diversified beauties assembled in 
 so small a space. The art and industry of man have 
 made it a beautiful scene of the finest flowers. But 
 what would it have been without culture and attention? 
 —a wild desert, full of thorns and thistles. And pre- 
 
12 JULY VII. 7 
 
 cisely such would be the condition of the rising gene- 
 ration, if their minds were uninformed and their edu- 
 cation neglected. But when children receive useful in- — 
 structions, and are brought up under proper discipline, i 
 they resemble those lovely blossoms which now delight 
 with their beauty, and will soon produce fruit benefici- 
 al to society. ‘ “4 
 
 Behold the night-violet, or Julian flower, which to- 
 wards evening perfumes our gardens with its fragrance, 
 in which it excels all others; but it has no beauty, and - 
 scarcely resembles a flower. It is little, and of a grey 
 colour, tinged with green, so that it can scarcely be dis- 
 tinguished from the leaves: modest, without show or 
 pretensions, it perfumes the whole garden, although it 
 is not observed in the multitude; and it is difficult to 
 believe that a flower so insignificant in appearance, can 
 diffuse such aromatic odours. It may be compared to - 
 a person who is not handsome, but whose want of beau- 
 ty is amply compensated by the more solid endowments 
 of a ready wit and enlarged mind. The righteous man 
 often does good in secret, and sheds around him the 
 perfume of good works; and when we wish to be ac- 
 quainted with this beneficent character, we find that 
 there is nothing peseney distinguishing either in his 
 person, condition, or rank. 
 
 In the carnation, beauty and fragrance are both unit- 
 ed; and it is certainly one of the most perfect of flow- 
 ers. It almost equals the tulip in its colours, and sur- 
 passes it in the multitude of its leaves, and the elegance 
 of its form. This flower is the emblem of a person who 
 possesses both sense and beauty, and knows how to con- 
 ciliate the love and respect of his fellow-creatures. 
 
 Let us now observe the rose: its colour, form, and 
 perfume, all charm us; but it appears to be the slight- 
 est and most frail of any, and soon loses that beauty 
 which distinguishes it from other flowers. This affords 
 an useful lesson for those who excel only in beauty ; 
 and it ought to teach them not to be vain of their 
 ent or trust too much’ to their short-lived excel- 
 
 ence. 
 
 In general, it is a melancholy thing to see, in this 
 fine season, the ground already covered with so many 
 faded and dead flowers. We ought not, however, to 
 complain that Providence has not given them more sta- 
 
—er ol 
 t ‘ 
 
 - 
 
 Phenomena of a Thunder-Storm. 13 
 
 bility. The world is a great theatre, where we are not 
 always to see the same actors. It is right that those 
 who have finished their parts should retire, and make 
 room for others. This is what the variety of God’s 
 works requires; a variety which constitutes part of their 
 perfection. Besides, as we are agreeably affected by 
 the charms of novelty, it is necessary that the former 
 objects should give place to new ones. If flowers pre- 
 served their splendor during the whole year, their con- 
 tinual presence and sameness of appearance would sa- 
 tiate and disgust us; but, as they last only a few months, 
 their absence causes us to long for their return. When 
 we have seen an object in all its different points of view, 
 and have, in some manner, exhausted its beauty, we 
 become indifferent to it, and aspire after new pleasures. 
 The variety and continual succession of earthly bless- 
 ings, is therefore a mean which Providence employs to 
 render our lives continually pleasant. 
 
 Such is worldly happiness. Allis vanity. ‘ All flesh 
 “is as grass, and all the glory ef man as the flower of 
 ‘the field. The grass withereth, and the flower there- 
 “ of falleth.”? The lilies and roses of a beautiful face 
 wither, as well as the flowers of the garden, and death 
 leaves no vestige of them behind. Let us therefore 
 wisely seek our peace and happiness in constant and 
 durable blessings. Wisdom, virtue, and the advantages 
 of true Christianity, never fade. They are inexhausti- 
 ble sources of endless joy. 
 
 JULY: VHE 
 The Phenomena of a Thunder- Storm. 
 
 However formidable the phenomena of a thunder- 
 storm may be, there is something so great and curious 
 in them, that their different effects deserve our serious 
 consideration ; particularly as it often happens that we 
 are prevented, by excessive fear, from contemplating 
 this awful spectacle with sufficient attention. 
 
 When a collection of vapours forming a cloud be- 
 comes strongly electrified, and approaches so near to a 
 high building or an unelectrified cloud, that a spark is- 
 sues from it, an explosion takes place, which is called a 
 
 clap of thunder, and the flash which we see is the light- 
 hing, or, as some term it, the thunder-bolt. Sometimes 
 - VOL. II. B 
 
14 JULY YIIl, a q 
 
 we only see a sudden and momentary flash; at orhieetl 
 times it is a train of fire, taking different forms and di- — 
 rections. The explosion attending the lightning shows ~ 
 that the vapours which occasion the thunder, by taking 
 fire suddenly, agitate and dilate the air with violence. 
 With the emission of each electric spark an explosion — 
 is heard; and the thunder is sometimes composed of se- 
 veral claps, or prolonged and multiplied by echoes.— 
 There is, generally, some interval of time between the 
 lightning and the clap of thunder; by which we may, 
 in some measure, judge of the greatness or nearness of 
 the danger ; for sound requires some time to reach the 
 ear; while light goes through the same space, and 
 reaches our sight, much more swiftly. As soon, there- 
 fore, as we see a flash of lightning, we have only to 
 reckon the seconds on a watch, or how often our pulse 
 beats between the flash and the clap. Whoever can 
 reckon ten pulsationsbetween the flash and the clap, is 
 at the distance of a quarter of a league from the thun- 
 der cloud; for it is calculated that the sound takes near- 
 ly the time of forty pulsations in going aleague. Light- 
 ning does not always pass in a direct line downwards, 
 but often in a serpentine or zig zag direction, and some- 
 times does not flash till very near the ground. The e- 
 lectric matter which reaches the ground, or takes fire 
 near it, never fails to strike. But it is not always strong 
 enough to approach us; and, like an ill-charged bomb, 
 disperses in the atmosphere, without doing any injury. 
 When, on the contrary, the fiery exhalations reach the 
 ground, they sometimes make terrible havock. But, as 
 uncultivated and desert places, where there are neither 
 men nor habitations, occupy the largest part of our 
 globe, lightning may fall many thousands of times with- 
 out doing any real mischief. The course of the light- 
 ning is very singular, and always uncertain. It depends | 
 on the direction of the wind, the quantity of exhala- 
 tions, &c. It passes wherever it can meet with com- 
 bustible matter; as, when a grain of gunpowder is light- 
 ed, the flame runs along the train, and sets every thing 
 it meets on fire. 
 We may judge of the prodigious force of the light- 
 ning by the wonderful effects it produces. The heat 
 of the flame is so intense, that it burns and consumes 
 every thing that is combustible. It even melts metals ; 
 
The Anis. 15 
 
 but often spares the substances contained in them, when 
 they are sufficiently porous to admit of a passage through 
 them. It is by the velocity of lightning that the bones 
 of men and animals are sometimes calcined, while the 
 flesh remains unhurt; that the strongest buildings are 
 thrown down, trees split, or torn up by the root; the 
 thickest walls pierced; and stones and rocks broken, | 
 and reduced to powder. To the rarefaction and vio- 
 lent motion of the air, produced by the ‘heat and velo- 
 city of the lightning, we must attribute the death of 
 those animals which are found suffocated, without any 
 appearance of having been struck by lightning. 
 
 ~ Let us reflect seriously on these strange and dreadful 
 phenomena. We behold a heavy black cloud: it is the 
 tabernacle of the MosfHigh. It descends toward the 
 earth: it is the Lord ‘“* who bows the heavens, and 
 comes down with darkness under his feet.” The wind 
 rises, the storm begins; but God himself is in the whirl- 
 wind, and “ walketh upon the wings of the wind.” At 
 his command the clouds disperse, and the thunder, 
 lightning, and hail, are seen to fly abroad. “ Listen 
 attentively to his voice, and to the sound that goeth out 
 of his mouth. He directeth it under the whoie heaven,. 
 and his Hghtming unto the ends of the earth? Dut if 
 his dreadful lightnings terrify the universe, his benefi- 
 cent hand abundantly provides for all his creatures. 
 
 JULY IX. 
 The Ants. 
 
 THe ants, as well as the bees, may be considered as a 
 _ Tittle commonweelth, having a peculiar government, 
 laws, and police. They live in a sort of town, divided’ 
 into several streets which lead ‘to different magazines. 
 Their activity and industry, in collecting and using the 
 materials they require for their nest, are truly admirable. 
 They all anite in digging the earth, and carrying it out 
 of their habitation. They then collect a quantity of 
 grass, straw, and sticks, with which they form a heap, 
 that, at first sight, appears very irregularly formed; but, 
 through all this apparent disorder, much art may be dis- 
 _covered, when examined more attentively. Under the 
 domes, or little hills, which cover them, and which are 
 always so formed as to throw off the water, there are 
 
 B2 
 
16 JULY I. 
 
 galleries, which communicate with each other, and may 
 be considered as the streets of this little city. But what 
 is particularly admirable, is, the care which the ants take © 
 of their eggs, of the worms when they come out, and 
 of the chrysalis when formed. They convey them care- 
 fully from one place to another. They feed their young, 
 and remove, with the tenderest solicitude, every thing 
 that might hurt them. They even take care to preserve 
 a proper degree of warmth about them. Their labour 
 of collecting provisions, during the summer, has princi- — 
 pally for its object the support of their young; for as to 
 themselves, they require no nourishment in winter, as 
 they pass that season in sleep or in a state of insensibi- 
 lity. As soon as the young are excluded from the egg, 
 the ants are busily employed in#feeding them, aad this 
 is attended with considerable trouble. They generally 
 have several houses, and they convey their young from 
 one habitation to some other which they wish to people. 
 According as the weather is hot or cold, dry or rainy, 
 they bring their chrysalises near the surface of the earth, 
 or remove them downward. In mild weather they bring 
 them to the surface, and even sometimes after rain they 
 expose them to the sun, or to a gentle dew after a long 
 Grought. But, at thé approach of night, cold, or rain, 
 they take.thcir little ones in their paws, and carry them 
 so low down into the earth, that it issometimes neces- 
 sary to dig above a foot deep in order to find them. 
 ‘There are several sorts of these insects. The wood- 
 anis are never found but in forests or thickets, and do ~ 
 no harm to fields. There are two species of these, the — 
 red and the black. Some settle in the ground and dry. 
 svils, and generally choose places where they find roots 
 of fir-trees, or birch, to make their habitations. Others 
 live in old trunks of trees above ground, high enough 
 to be out of the reach of its moisture. They ae 
 themselves apartments in the cavities of the trunk, and 
 cover them with straw and other things, to shelter them 
 from snow or rain. The feld-ants are also either red or. 
 black, like the former, but much smaller; and these are 
 found in corn-fields or common pasturages. In dry 
 weather, they bury themselves very deep; but as soon 
 as it becomes rainy, they elevate their habitations higher 
 and higher, according as there is more or Jess damp; 
 and, when it abates, they never fail of returning to their 
 
! 
 
 . 
 
 : 
 
 mae.) ome Pa 2 > _” 
 
 The Hail. 17 
 
 subterraneous apartments. It is also to be observed, 
 that these ants acquire wings; and that towards autumn 
 they are seen to fly in swarms over ditches, ponds, and 
 other pieces of water. A; 
 
 But are these mischievous insects worthy our atten- 
 tion, spoiling, as they do, our fields and meadows? By 
 their subterraneous works they make the ground hol- 
 low, tear it up, and prevent the plants and roots from 
 growing. They are also reproached as being enemies 
 to the bees and silkworms; they are supposed to hurt 
 the flowers, and particularly the young trees ; and it is 
 said they devour the buds and shoots ; and that, getting 
 under the bark of trees, they gnaw them to the quick. 
 For these reasons the ants are destroyed wherever they 
 are found. If they gathered honey, though at the ex- 
 pénse of a million of other creatures, they would be 
 
 ighly valued; but because their labours injure some 
 useful plants, we think ourselves authorized to destroy 
 them. But supposing, even, that they do some hurt, 
 are they the less worthy cf our attention on that ac-- 
 count? Do none deserve our observation but such as 
 are useful to us? Let us banish this prejudice. Even 
 the ants may afford us instruction and amusement. The 
 form of their limbs, their industry, their mdefatigable 
 labour, the police of their repubjic, their tender care 
 of their young, and perhaps a thousand other qualities 
 which we are not acquainted with, might convince us 
 of the wisdom of that great Being, who is their Creator - 
 as well as ours; for, of all the works.of God, there is 
 not one which has not its use, and is not worthy admi- 
 ration, however useless, or even hurtful, it may appear 
 at first sight. ‘ihe Supreme Creator, by whom all things 
 exist, has created nothing without design, nothing that 
 has not its use and purpose. The trees have not a leaf,, 
 the meadows a blade of grass, nor. the flowers a single: 
 fibre, that is useless. : 
 
 JUL Xe. 
 The Hail. 
 
 Hatt is nothing but drops of rain, which, freezing in: 
 the air, fall in pieces of a spherical, oblong, or angular 
 orm. If it appear extraordinary, that, in the very 
 
 warmest seasons of the year, vapours should freeze in 
 a2 
 
 B 3. 
 
i8 JULY xi mi 1 
 
 the atmosphere, we must consider that even during the 
 gfeatest heats, the superior part of the atmosphere is - 
 very cold. If this were not the case, how could the 
 highest mountains remain the whole summer covered — 
 with snow? In the hottest parts of America, it is so_ 
 severely cold on the top of very high mountains, that 
 there is continual danger of being frozen; and of course, 
 it would snow, from this extreme cold in the upper re- 
 gion of the atmosphere, in the very middle of summer, 
 if the snow did not melt, in falling, before it reached 
 the ground. But when these particles of snew collect 
 together, the drops begin to freeze ; and as, in falling, 
 they go rapidly through warmer regions of air, it hap- 
 pens that, before this warmth can have penetrated 
 through them, their cold increases so as to make them 
 entirely frozen. lt might be imagined, that the cold, 
 on the contrary, ‘ought to abate in proportion as they. 
 pass. through a warmer air; but what is the consequence 
 in winter, when cold water, which has been exposed to 
 the outward air, is brought into a very hot room ?—it 
 freezes, and becomes ice, which would not have hap- 
 pened if it had been put into acoldroom. This is pre- 
 cisely the case in respect to the hail. When cold bo- 
 dies pass suddenly into hot air, their cold increases to 
 such a degree, as to turn them to ice. The saline par- 
 ticles which are more or less diffused through the atmo-. 
 sphere contribute very much to this effect. We need 
 not, therefore, be surprised that storms are not always 
 attended with hail, as. it requires great abundance of 
 saline yapours to occasion the sudden freezing of the 
 drops ef water. Though hail is more frequent in sum- 
 mer-time, it falls also in other seasons; for, as in ever 
 part of the year the saline exhalations may ferment in 
 the atmosphere, so it. may hail in winter, autumn, or 
 spring. wen 
 Hailstones are sometimes round, at other times con-. 
 eave and hemispherical, and often conic and angular ; 
 and their ordinary size is that of small shot, though it 
 sometimes greatly exceeds. The difference observable 
 in the form and size of hailstenes may proceed from ac- 
 cidental causes. Winds, vapkioslalll those which* are 
 impetuous and blow in conirary directions, may be sup- 
 posed to contribute much to this. Besides, a hailstone. 
 19 falling, may meet with several other cold particles, 
 
Utility of Storms... 19 
 
 which considerably increase its size; and often the small 
 hailstones mect others, and, in joining together, form 
 into large ones. When hailstones are very large, they 
 certainly do inexpressible mischief to crops, fruits, and 
 buildings; but this does not authorize us to regard them 
 as a scourge from heaven, or a punishment from the 
 Almighty. fa violent hail-storm sometimes lays waste 
 acres of land, and breaks thousands of windows, this 
 mischief, however great it may be, is nothing in com- 
 parison of the advantages which accrue to us from it. 
 Mail evidently cools the air in the burning heats of sum- 
 mer. And it is very remarkable, that, though «ll the 
 meteors appear to succeed each other without any re- 
 gularity, and are all different cne year from another, 
 this apparent disorder never fails to produce fertility. 
 Here, again, O God! thou showest thy goodness and 
 wisdom! may we glorify thee even in the midst of hail 
 ~ and storms; for thy beneficent hand worketh admirable 
 things, and never ceaseth to enrich and tertilize the 
 earth. 
 
 JULY XT. 
 Utility of Storms. 
 
 A purty, which ought to appear to us the more indis- 
 pensable because it is neglected by many thoughtless, 
 ignorant, and ungrateful people, is that of considering, . 
 all the phenomena. of natnre in the light which may 
 - most sensibly impress our minds with a becoming sense 
 of the wisdom and goodness of our heavenly Father. It 
 is true, that God sometimes makes use of natural phe- 
 nomena to punish the sins of mankind; but these parti- 
 _ cular cases do not prove that He does not chiefly, and 
 in general, propose to himself the good of the whole. 
 _ All nature affords undeniable proofs of this. At present. 
 let us contemplate a single phenomenon particularly a- 
 dapted to convince us of it, and concerning which we 
 | require that our common.opinions should be rectified. 
 Are we not, many of us, accustomed from our infan- 
 cy to pranenpce the words thunder and lightning with 
 terror: We are so unjust, that we only think of those 
 very rare cases when storms are fatal. to a very small 
 part of the universe, while we are totally insensible to 
 the great advantages which result from them, taken in. 
 
 | 
 
’ 
 
 td in 2 a 
 20 JULY! RIT. 
 
 the whole. Alas! we should soon change our language, 
 if God, provoked at our ingratitude and complaints, 
 were to deprive us of the blessings which they produce. 
 It is true, we are not capable of pointing out all the ad- 
 vantages which accrue trom them; but the little we do 
 know may suffice to fill our hearts with gratitude to- 
 wards our great Benefactor. 
 
 Let us represent to ourselves an atmosphere loaded’ 
 with noxious and pestilential vapours, which thicken 
 more and more by the continual exhalations of earthly 
 bodies, so many of which are corrupt and poisonous. 
 This air we must necessarily respire; and the preserva- 
 tion or destruction of our being depends on it. The sa-— 
 lubrity or unwholesomeness of the air gives us life or 
 death. We feel how we are oppressed in the ‘stifling 
 heat of summer: with what difficulty we breathe! what 
 uneasiness we experience! Is it not then a great bless- 
 ing, when a salutary storm comes to purify the air from 
 all noxious vapours ; and, by lighting up the saline and 
 sulpbureous particles, prevent their dangerous effects, 
 cool the air, which recovers its elasticity, and restores 
 us to our usual facility of breathing? Were it not for 
 occasional storms, dangerous exhalations would be nore 
 and more corrupted and multiplied, men and animals 
 would perish by thousands,: and the earth itself would 
 soon become a universal cemetery. Which is then the 
 most reasonable, to fear or to wish for storms? to mur- 
 mur ai the slight mischief they may sometimes occasion, 
 or to bless God for the precious advantages they procure “ 
 to the world atlarge? Let us add, that not only men and 
 animals are benefited by purifying the air, but that it is 
 also very useful to the vegetables. Experience teaches . 
 that the rain which falls during a thunder-storm is more 
 conducive than any other to the fertilization of the earth. 
 The saline and sulphureous particles which fill the at- 
 mosphere during a storm, are drawn down by the rain, — 
 and become excellent nourishment for plants; without 
 mentioning the number of little worms, seeds, and in- — 
 sects, which are also drawn down in thunder-showers, 
 and are, with the help of a microscope, visible in the 
 drops of water. 
 
 Reflections of this kind may serve to moderate that 
 excessive fear we have of thunder :—a fear which too 
 plainly shows how little confidence we have in God.-=. 
 
The Earth, and its Original Constitution. _ 21 
 Instead of filling our minds with frightful and terrible 
 
 ’ ideas, let us accustom ourselves to consider a storm as 
 
 a sublime and magnificent spectacle. Instead of speak- 
 ing of the misfortunes occasioned by thunder, let us re- 
 flect on the necessity and great utility of storms. —In- 
 stead of praying to God that there may be none, let us 
 pray that he may vouchsafe to send them from time to 
 time; or rather let us leave it entirely to that great Be- 
 ing who always governs the world with wisdom and 
 goodness. Every time a storm arises, Jet us say, in the 
 fulness of our hearts, and with entire faith, Almighty 
 God! it is thou who commandest the thunder, and di- 
 rectest the lightning. We are in thy hands, and it de- 
 pends on thee either to save or to destroy us. At thy 
 command the tempest shall either fertilize or destroy 
 
 our fields. Thou art great, O Lord! and thy power is 
 
 inexpressible. How can we attempt to resist thee, or 
 whither is it possible to flee from thy avenging justice ? 
 But thou art a merciful Father, and we are thine adopt- 
 ed children. Thou speakest to us in thunder; but bless- 
 ings are in the sound. 
 
 JULY XII. 
 The Earth, and its Original Constitution. 
 
 Gop has adapted the earth for the production and 
 growth of herbs, plants, and trees. It is sufficiently 
 compact to contain and hold-the vegetables so firm that 
 the winds cannot sweep them away, and. yet it is light 
 and moveable enough tor the plants to extend their 
 roots in it, and draw out the moisture and nutritious 
 
 juices. When the surface of the earth is barren and 
 
 cry, this lightness gives power to the juices to rise up, 
 as in the capillary vessels, te furnish the trees with the . 
 nourishment they require. Besides this, the earth a- 
 bounds with different juices which,serve for the growth 
 of plants; and that every species of vegetables may 
 flourish, we find there are different sorts of earth, which 
 answer various purposes; such as potter’s earth, clay, 
 chalk, and gravel. Some serve to make bricks, others 
 to construct buildings, and form earthenware, porce- 
 lain, &c. while some.are used in dying and medicine: 
 The inequalities on the earth’s, surface are produc- 
 tive of considerable advantages. The lofty mountains 
 
-). oe 
 
 22 JULY XII. 
 
 serve as retreats for a variety of animals, and, by break- 
 ing the violence of the winds, they produce a variety. of 
 wholesome plants and fruits, which would not thrive in 
 the valleys or on the plains‘. They also contain useful 
 metals and fossils; and from them proceed those springs 
 and rivers which are produced by rain, melted snow, 
 and other vapours. ‘The stones that are included in the 
 earth serve to build walls, and to make lime and glass. 
 As to metals, their uses are numberless: let us only 
 think of the many tools our workmen and artists re- 
 quire; the utensils and furniture of every sort made of 
 them, which furnish us with so many conveniences and 
 ornaments. We also draw considerable advantages from 
 the hardness*and weight of these bodies. No person is 
 ignorant of the use of minerals: salt serves to season 
 our food, and to keep it from corrupting; the sulphu- 
 reous particles of bodies render them combustible. E- 
 ven volcanoes and earthquakes, whatever mischief the: 
 
 sometimes occasion, are still useful and necessary, If 
 fire did not consume the sulphureous exhalations, they 
 would spread too much in the air, and would render it 
 unwholesome ; many warm baths would not exist; an: 
 many minerais 224 metais would never be produced.— 
 We may impute it to our ignorance, if so many things 
 appear useless. At the sight of certain phenomena in 
 nature which are sometimes noxious, we ought always 
 to remember this maxim: If God now and then permit 
 certain imperfections to take place, it is that they may 
 contribute to the greater perfection of the whole. To 
 judge aright of the works of God, and to acknowledge 
 his wisdom in them, we must not only consider them in 
 one point of view, but examine them both in their con- 
 stituent parts, and their total combination. Many things 
 which we now consider as"injurious, are notwithstand- 
 ing of real utility. Others appear superfluous; ‘and yet, 
 if they were wanting, they would leave a chasm in ihe 
 plan of the creation. How. many things appear to us in- 
 significant, only because we do not know the rea) use 
 of them! Put a loadstone into the hands of a man who 
 is ignorant of its virtue, and he will scarcely deign to 
 look at it: but tell him that we owe to that stone the 
 progress of navigation, and the discovery ofa new world, 
 and he will then be of avery different opinion.’ It is the 
 same with respect to a million of things which we de- 
 
_ The Phases of the Moon. 23 
 
 spisey or judge ill of, because we do not know the use 
 them, nor see the connexion they have with the 
 whole of creation. 
 
 O Lord! the earth is full of thy goodness. All that 
 is in and upon it, even the dust itself, is arranged with 
 infinite wisdom. How long have we travelled on earth,. 
 and how many of thy blessings have we witnessed! May 
 we aspire contjnually after an acquaintance with thy 
 perfections, and pay thee that just tribute of grateful 
 praise which we owe, for unnumbered instances of di- 
 vine mercy aad beneficence. 
 
 SUL Y. SLE. ; 
 The Phases of the Moon. 
 
 OBSERVATION has demonsirated, that the moon has a ~ 
 peculiar motion, by which she turns round the earth 
 irom west to east. For, after having placed herself be- 
 tween us and the sun, she retires from under that body, 
 and continues to go back towards the east, changing 
 from day to day her place of rising. At the end of fif- 
 teen days she will have reached the most eastern part 
 of the horizon at the time the sun sets with us; and she 
 is then said to be in opposition. In the evening, she 
 rises above our horizon when the sun retires below it; 
 and in the morning, as the sun rises she sets. If she 
 then continue to traverse the circle which she has be- 
 gun round the earth, and the half of which is already 
 avcomplished, she will visibly remove from the point of 
 her opposition to the sun, and will gradually approach 
 nearer to that luminary. We shail then see her later 
 than when in opposition, till, at length, she will only 
 appear a little before sun-rise. 
 
 The revolution of the moon round the earth explains 
 why she rises and sets at such different times, and why 
 ther phases are so various, and yet so regular. Every 
 
 body knows that a globe illuminated by the sun, or by 
 a flambeau, can only receive the light immediately on 
 one side. We readily perceive, that the moon is a 
 sphere which receives her light from the sun. When, 
 therefore, she is in conjunction—that is, placed between 
 the sun and us—she turns he; illuminated side towards 
 the sun, and her dark side towards us, and is then, of 
 course, invisible. She then rises and sets withthe sun, 
 
 . 
 
 . 
 
a. FF 2. 
 a i 
 
 24 JULY XII. 
 
 in the same region of the sky, and is called new moo: 
 or the conjunction. But when the moon retires fro 
 under the sun, and goes back towards the east, she has” 
 no longer all her dark side turned towards us: a small 
 part of it, a little border of the illuminated disk, begins” 
 to appear. This luminous border is seen on the right 
 side towards sun-set, or even before it; and the horns” 
 orpoints of this crescent are turned to the left, facing 
 the east. The farther the moon recedes from the sun, 
 the more visible she becomes. At the end of seven 
 days, when she has performed a quarter of her course 
 round the earth, she discovers more and more of her 
 illumined side, till she shows us half of it. The en- 
 lightened part is then turned towards the sun, and the 
 dark part casts no light on the earth. Exactly half the 
 moon is then illuminated. The half of that half can on- 
 ly be the quarter of her whole globe, and it is im reality 
 this quarter which appears to us. The moon is then ~ 
 said to be in her first quarter. Fe 
 In proportion as the moon recedes from the sun, and 
 the earth comes nearly between them, the light oc-~ 
 cupies a greater space in that part of the moon which ~ 
 faces us. At the end of seven days, reckoning from — 
 the first quarter, she is almost directly opposite to the 
 sun, and then her whole illumined disk presents itself 
 to us. She then rises: in the east precisely at the mo- 
 ment the sun sets in the west, and we have a full moon. . 
 The next day the enlightened part is a little turned a- 
 way from us;-so that we no longer see the full illumin-_ 
 ed face. The light gradually leaves the western side, 
 extending itself in proportion on the half not facing the 
 earth. ‘This is the wane or decrease of the moon; and 
 
 the further she advances forward, the more her 
 
 _—— 
 
 <-> ae 
 
 b 
 “ 
 
 part increases, till at length half of it is turned toward 
 the earth, and consequently half her luminous side. She 
 has then the form of a semi-circle, and is said-to be in 
 her last quarter. 
 
 By the admirable harmony which subsists between 
 the motion of this planet on her own axis and her course 
 round the sun, it so happens, that the moon always pre- 
 sents to us the same hemisphere that she has shown from 
 her first creation. During so many thousands of years, 
 this globe has constantly, and without deviating from 
 the same course, finished her revolution in twenty-seven 
 4 
 a 
 
 : 
 
An. 
 
 Mineral Waters. F 25 
 
 days and eight hours. Regularly, and at certain pe- 
 riods, she has enlightened, sometimes our nights, and 
 sometimes those of remote countries. With how much 
 goodness has it pleased Divine Wisdom to grant to our 
 earth a faithful companion to illumine almost half our 
 nights! Alas! we are not properly sensible of ‘the va- 
 lue of this wise appointment of the Creator. But there 
 are people who are more so than we, and to whom this 
 light is indispensable. . They must certainly be more 
 grateful for this blessing than we are. 
 
 The continual changes of the moon, both in respect 
 to her phases and her course, are lively emblems of the 
 revolutions to which all terrestrial things are liable. 
 Sometimes health, spirits, affluence, and a thousand o- 
 ther blessings, concur to make us happy, and we walk, 
 as it were, in a blaze of light; but at the end of a few 
 days all this splendor disappears, and there remains only 
 the sad remembrance of the fickle and transitory bless- 
 ings we have enjoyed. How ardently, therefore, should 
 we wish to pass from this uncertain world to those hap- 
 py regions where all the blessings we shall enjoy, will 
 appear the more excellent, as they will never be sub- 
 
 _ ject to mutation or decay ! 
 
 JULY XIV. 
 Mineral Waters. 
 
 WHETHER we consider mineral waters in respect to 
 their formation, or the benefits that result from them, 
 
 they are certainly valuable blessings bestowed upon us 
 
 by the Almighty. But even the places where these sa- 
 lutary springs flow, are seldom consecrated to praise 
 and gratitude. The following reflections are calculated 
 to render us more grateful, in future, to our Heavenly 
 Benefactor. 
 
 In the first place, the sources whence we draw the 
 common salt which seasons our food are highly deserv- 
 ing of attention. It is probable that they originate from 
 that mineral salt which the waters dissolve under ground. 
 Mineral hot baths are equally remarkable; and these 
 are so numerous, that in Germany alone they reckon 
 
 ‘nearly a hundred and twenty; but, in some of them, 
 
 _the water is so hot, that it requires to stand for twelve 
 
 or eighteen hours before it is of a proper temperature 
 VOL. Il. C 
 
26 JULY XIV. 
 
 to bathe in. What is the cause of this extraordinary 
 heat? It certainly is not the sun; because, in that case, — 
 the waters would only preserve their heat in the day — 
 time, whilst exposed to the solar beams, and they would — 
 grow cold in the night or in winter. Neither can this . 
 heat be attributed to subterraneous fires; for then it 
 would still be necessary to account for the medicinal 
 virtue of thesé baths. The most simple cause we can — 
 assign is, that the waters passing through earth strong- 
 ly impregnated with sulphureous, pyritous, and metallic — 
 substances, acquire this degree of heat. When the wa- — 
 ter falls into those quarries, the sulphureous and ferru- — 
 -ginous particles which it dissolves, take fire by the fric- 
 tion and re-action of their principles, and communicate 
 this heat to the water which runs over them. | 
 
 Medicinal waters, particularly those which are acidu- 
 lated, are produced by dissolving and mixing with the 
 minerals they wash away. They are found particular] 
 in places where there is abundance of iron, copper, sul- 
 phur, or charcoal. Hence there is such difference both 
 in the effect and taste of them, in proportion as they 
 are more or less impregnated with these. They are 
 bitter when they are produced by bitter roots, saltpe- 
 tre, or copper; they are cold when they come out of 
 the rocks, or are impregnated with sal-amoniac, salt- 
 petre, alum, &c. Oily and bituminous substances make 
 them oleaginous; brimstone mixed with acids renders — 
 them sulphureous. 
 
 Let us admire that divine goodness which has pre- 
 pared for man those salutary and inexhaustible springs. 
 Mineral waters may certainly answer many other pur- 
 poses; but it is certain they were produced for the 
 health and preservation of mankind. It is for man that 
 the Lord has caused these beneficent waters to spring 
 up. Let us, therefore, acknowledge his goodness, and 
 be sensibly affected by it. Let those especially who 
 have experienced their strengthening and salutary vir- 
 tue, be deeply penetrated with love and gratitude to 
 their Heavenly Father. Let them glorify him, by imi- 
 tating his example; and let their riches become sources 
 of life and consolation to their fellow-creatures in ne-: 
 cessity. 
 
Activity of Nati tn the Vegetable Ki ingdom. 27 
 
 JULY XV. 
 “Continual Activity of Nature in the Vegeiable Kingdom. 
 
 “‘Wuorver wishes to know why nature is never idle 
 through the course of the whole year, has only to re- 
 . flect on the numberless advantages which result from 
 this constant activity. Vegetables were designed for 
 the use of men and animals: both for food and pleasure 
 to the former, as food only to the latter. The benefi- 
 cent Creator, in order to bestow nourishment on man in 
 the most pleasing manner, ordained, ‘that the plants, in: 
 stead of coming all at once, should appear in a reguler 
 suecession, and this is indispensably necessary to the 
 accomplishment of the great end designed. How could 
 men find time to get in their different crops and har-_ 
 vests, if every thing were ripe at the same time? How 
 could all of them be preserved, as many are of very short 
 duration, and soon lose their taste and virtue? What 
 would then become of the pleasing sensations which 
 they afford both to our sight and palate? What flavour 
 would cherries and other summer fruits have, were we 
 to eat them in winter, covered with snow and ice? 
 Would not wine itself be changed to vinegar, if the 
 grapes were toripen in the heats ofsummer? And what 
 would become of so many millions of animals, whose’ 
 preservation the beneficent Creator watches over, as 
 _ well as that of mankind? how could they subsist, if all 
 the productions of the earth came to maturity at the 
 | same time? 
 There are a hundred species of insects which feed 
 _ only on flowers: how could ¢hey subsist if their aliment 
 lasted only one or two months? Could they gather e- 
 nough to have always sufficient food? It is true, that 
 most insects find none in winter; but then they fall in- 
 to a sound sleep, and do not require any; which. would: 
 _ not be the case in summer, as the heat would waken 
 them. It is therefore certain, that if nature were plan- 
 ned otherwise, men, as well as animals, would not only 
 suffer by it, but even perish with hunger: and we may 
 safely assert, that their support is one of the chief de-- 
 signs of Providence in the constant activity of the ve=: 
 getable kingdom. 
 ' If'we next reflect on the pleasures of sight and smell,, 
 
s wa 
 ‘ . . 
 28 JULY) S¥ie ' 
 
 which God has pleased to grant to man, we shall find, 
 that for this purpose also it was requisite that nature 
 should be thus arranged. It was not only necessary 
 that the flowers should be displayed in full Tecuaity: but 
 that there should be some all the year for our continual 
 enjoyment. In spring, when we go into the country, 
 to contemplate the various productions which the Crea- 
 tor causes to spring up for our food, we behold the trees - 
 in full bloom. Towards summer, when farmers are 
 chiefly occupied with their corn, a thousand beautiful — 
 flowers charm the sight. These appear successively, 
 and replace each other the whole season, as long as man — 
 can enjoy this pleasure. At last, when the cold winter 
 arrives, and shuts us up in our houses, nature produces 
 other vegetables, which though not fascinating to the 
 sight, have yet many considerable advantages. From — 
 all this it appears, that the pleasures and comforts of 
 mankind are some of the great ends proposed by God 
 in the plan of nature. Every thing is so ordained as to 
 provide sufficient nourishment for men and animals, and — 
 also that the former should enjoy as many pleasures and 
 comforts as possible: consequently, some plants pro- 
 duce their blossoms and fruit in spring, others in sum-_ 
 mer, and others in autumn or winter. Thus each has 
 its allotted time, and appears precisely when most use- 
 ful. Scarcely have some performed their service, when 
 others appear in full beauty. We behold millions of 
 ’ plants, and all follow the same law. cag 
 
 Every thing that bears the impress of God’s creation 
 is formed in the same wise and regular order, though 
 the weakness of our understanding may sometimes pre-— 
 vent us from discovering their uses and designs. Let 
 us, therefore, bless our Creator, and give him glory for 
 all things; and let us acknowledge, that in all the revo- 
 Jutions of the vegetable kingdom, he has our welfare in 
 view. With what gratitude should this reflection inspire — 
 us! and what sweet satisfaction should we feel every 
 time we contemplate the beauties of nature ! 
 
 JULY XVI. ' 
 The Beauty and Utility of Meadows and Fields. 
 
 Tue sight of a large and well-cultivated garden, during 
 these summer days, affords a lively pleasure, of which 
 
Beauty and Uiilily of Meadows and Fields. 29 
 
 those people who remain shut up in their apartments 
 can form no idea. But to the true admirer of nature 
 the most beautifully-disposed garden has no charms e- 
 qual to those of the meadows smiling in rural simplici- 
 ty. The stately tulip, the elegant narcissus, and the 
 beautiful hyacinth, all must yield to the sweetly simple 
 flowers which enamel the fertile valley. Whatever 
 charms the flowers may have which are. cultivated in 
 our gardens, those in the fields are still more pleasing : 
 the former charm by their beauty ; but the latter unite 
 both beauty and utility. Is it not’ true, that in these 
 long and uniform gravel walks, these arbours, clumps 
 of trees, and beds of flowers, and these enclosures sur-. 
 rounding all;—is it not true, that we feel an unpleasant 
 degree of confinement and restriction? Whatever li-- 
 mits our view, seems to set bounds to our liberty ; and 
 we become more independent, and more at ease, in pro-- 
 portion as our walk enlarges and lengthens before us. 
 In the country, during summer, fertile and beauteous 
 nature is, every moment, varying her appearance ;. 
 whereas, in our ornamental gardens, we continually be- 
 hold the same objects. Even their order and regulari- 
 ty prevent us from being long pleased with them. They 
 have nothing new to offer us, and we tire of them. On 
 the contrary, the eye wanders with pleasure over ob-- 
 _ jects continually diversified, and extending as far as the 
 sight can reach. To afford us this enjoyment, the Au- 
 thor of nature has ordained that in most places the 
 ground should ‘be smooth and even; but that we might 
 also have pleasing distant prospects, our horizon is sur-- 
 rounded with rising hills. He has done still-more: he- 
 has spared us the trouble of cultivating and‘ watering 
 those flowery gardens. An innumerable multitude of’ 
 seeds are sown in them, which produce a verdure scarce- 
 ly ever interrupted, or which is, at least, easily renewed. 
 - The numerous varieties of plants which cover a field 
 are not merely designed to gratify the sight; each has. 
 its peculiar seed, blossom, virtues, and beauties.. It is. 
 true, that the same species of herbs is prodigiously mul- 
 tiplied in each field; but, perhaps, we do not take two 
 steps without passing over a hundred different: sorts, , 
 each of which has its peculiar use.. To the pleasure af- 
 forded by a view of the fields, our beneficent Creator. 
 has added considerable oneal they produce plants; 
 K 
 
380 . LSU ee 
 
 for our food, and a wonderful number of simples, whic 
 serve for medicines. But, perhaps, the greatest advan- 
 tage is the feeding, without expense, those animals we 
 can the least dispense with, The ox, whose flesh af- 
 fords us so wholesome an aliment, and. by whose labour 
 our grounds are cultivated, has no other food than the 
 produce of the field. The horse, whose services are in- 
 numerable, demaads no other recompense than the 
 sweet grass, or a sufficient quantity of hay. And the 
 cow, whose milk is one, of the greatest supports of life, 
 requires nothing more. The field is the mest complete 
 inheritance, it is even preferable to cultivated lands, as 
 its produce is certain, and requires neither sowing nor — 
 labour:, it only costs the slight trouble ef gathering 
 what it yields. Its productions are not casual, for it 
 seldom happens that fields are destroyed by drought or — 
 inundations. 
 But it is a melancholy thing, that men, who are ge- © 
 nerally so inattentive, so insensible to the blessings of © 
 God, should be equally so in reference to this. We 
 took upon grass with contempt or indifference, perhaps, — 
 because it grows under our feet, and has not been made — 
 the object of our care and culture. But, whatever,may be. 
 the cause of our indifference, it is certainly inexcusable. — 
 Would to God, that, at the sight of our meadows ena- — 
 melled with flowers, we were sensibly touched with the 
 goodness of the Creator, who, witha bountiful hand, © 
 pours out abundance for men and animals! O that.we 
 were well convinced that his mercy is every where, and 
 that there is not a corner of the earth where we may 
 not discover vestiges of his good providence! Yes, e- 
 very country, every soil, the good and the bad, the 
 sandy and the marshy, the stony and the moist, all e-- 
 qually proclaim the beneficence of the Preserver of the, 
 universe. - : 
 May. we never. hereafter contemplate these . rural. 
 scenes but with appropriate sentiments of grateful pie- 
 ty. While reposing on a flowery bank, and surveying — 
 the adjacent Jandscape, may our hearts dilate with, 
 thankfulness, and soar, in hymns of praise, toward our 
 indulgent Father ! 
 ' How lovely, how fascinating are the flewers which, 
 encompass us by millions? The choirs of feathered 
 songsters, the verdant and enamelled fields, the imper-. 
 
The Morning Twilight. 31 
 
 viots thickets, and towering forests, announce the good- 
 ness, and proclaim. the munificence of the great Parent 
 of nature. 
 
 JULY XVIL 
 The Morning Twilight: 
 
 Ir cannot be doubted, that this phenomenon, which we 
 daily behold, is, with. others, designed for our benefit. 
 Twilight is nothmg more than a prolongation of day, 
 which at one time prepares. our. eyes to bear the splen- 
 dor of the rising sun; at another, to support the ap- 
 proaches of midnight darkness. The twilight, however, 
 is not always the same, but differs according to climates 
 and seasons. Towards the poles it continues longer 
 than in the torrid zone, where the inhabitants see the 
 sun rise directly above the horizon, and sink in the 
 samedirection beneath the lower hemisphere; by which 
 means they are suddenly left in total darkness. On the 
 contrary, the sun reflecting his rays obliquely towards 
 the poles, and not sinking far below the horizon of the 
 neighbouring people, their nights, though long, are al- 
 most always. attended. with a twilight which is in some 
 degree luminous. It is a happiness for the former to 
 have scarcely-any twilight, and for the others to have 
 an almost continual dawn. 
 
 As.for us, who are placed nearly at an equal distance 
 from the torrid and frigid zones, we plainly observe that 
 our twilight becomes shorter.in proportion as-the days 
 shorten; and that it increases.as the days lengthen. We 
 enjoy day-light an-hour or more after the sun is set, and 
 for the same space before he-rises above the horizon. 
 This useful arrangement is owing to the atmosphere, 
 which, to a,certain height, surrounds the earth every 
 where. And such is its nature, that the rays of light 
 which pass through it perpendicularly are not diverted 
 from their straight direction ; but when a ray enters o- 
 bliquely or sideways, instead of passing in a direct line ; 
 it bends, or is refracted, descending a little lower: so 
 that the greater number of rays which penetrate the at- 
 mosphere on the side of the earth, fall back, .in canse- 
 quence of this inflection, upon it: and thus, instead of 
 passing directly through the air, they are bent by it, 
 and directed towards the earth. Thus, when the sun. 
 
32 JULY XVIII. 
 
 approaches our horizon, many of his rays which pass’by ~ 
 
 us, and are not sent directly towards us, meet the mass ~ 
 of air which surrounds us, and bending in that mass, 
 they reach our eyes; so that we see day-light, long be- 
 fore the sun himself appears. 
 
 This refraction of light in the body of air which sur-- 
 rounds.us, is a work equally full of wisdom and good- 
 ness for all the people of the earth; but it is a particu- 
 lar blessing for those who inhabit the frigid zones; as 
 
 they would be plunged in frightful darkness for several — 
 
 months together, if they had no twilight. Perhaps this’ 
 -explanation of the origin of twilight may not be intelli- 
 gible to every body.; but let us leave to philosophers a 
 farther detail of it, and limit ourselves to contemplating 
 it as reasonable beings, and as Christians. To do this, 
 nothing is requisite but an upright heart, willing to glo- 
 rify its Creator. The honest, though ignorant, Chris- 
 tian, may possibly be wiser than many ‘philosophers ; 
 
 who, while they explain and calculate this phenomenon | 
 
 of the twilight, lose sight of that Great Being who gives 
 to man the light of day. 
 
 JULY XVIII. 
 The Evening Twilight. 
 
 THE evening twilight is that faint light which, after sun- 
 set, is still visible in our atmosphere, particularly in the 
 west: it is occasioned partly by the refraction and re- 
 flection of the rays of the sun in our atmosphere, and 
 partly by the atmosphere of the sun itself, known by the 
 
 name of zodaical light, which sometimes appears, but~_ 
 
 particularly towards evening in spring, and in autwan | 
 
 towards morning. When the sky is-serene, the sinall- 
 est stars are visible at twilight, which continues from. 
 sun-set till dark night, generally lasting about two hours. 
 In the island of Senegal, where the nights and days are 
 almost always equal, the twilight lasts but a few mo- 
 ments. ‘The interval between sun-set and the darkness 
 of night, is scarcely more than a quarter of an hour:- 
 thus, as soon as the sun has sunk ten or fifteen degrees 
 below the horizon, the whole country is immersed in 
 
 profound darkness. In our climate the shortest twilight 
 
 is about the first of March, and the eleventh of October. 
 When the northern declension of the sun, and that of 
 
| 
 
 | 
 
 The Ephemeral Fly. 33 
 
 the equator under the horizon, are such that the sun 
 descends only eighteen degrees below the horizon, the 
 twilight lasts all night. This is the reason, that, in the 
 summer solstice, we have scarcely any night in our 
 countries; and that there is none in the more northern 
 climates, though the sun is below the horizon. 
 
 The advantages which accrue to us and many other 
 creatures from the twilight, is very evident. ‘To pass 
 immediately from broad day to dark night, would be 
 very inconvenient. So sudden a change would injure, 
 if not destroy, the organs of sight. ‘Iravellers would 
 lose their way, surprised with sudden night ; and many 
 birds be in danger-of perishing. The infinitely wise 
 Author of nature has prevented all these inconveniences 
 by giving our earth an atmosphere, which precludes a 
 sudden disappearance of light, although the sun be sunk 
 below the horizon, And thus through the medium of - 
 twilight, we pass gently and gradually from day to night. 
 
 JL, -XEXS 
 The Ephemeral Fly. 
 
 Tuts insect is called ephemeral, on account of the short 
 duration of its life in the state of a fly. It is one of the 
 prettiest species of flies, and undergoes five transforma- 
 tions :—First, the egg contains the principles of its life. 
 It comes out a caterpillar, which turns into a chrysalis, 
 afterwards into a nympha, and lastly into a fly, which 
 lays its eggs on the water, where the heat of the sun 
 hatches them. Each egg produces a small red worm, 
 which moves in a serpentine manner. They are found 
 all summer in great abundance on ponds and marshy 
 places ; but, as soon as the water begins to grow cold, 
 the worm makes itself a bag, or little sheath, where it 
 passes the winter. Towards the end of that season it 
 ceases to be a worm: it enters into its third state, that 
 of a chrysalis. It then sleeps till spring : and gradual- 
 ly becomes a beautiful nympha, or a sort of mummy, 
 something in the form of a fish. On the day of its me- 
 tamorphosis, the nympha at first appears lifeless and in- 
 active. At the end of six hours, the head shows itself, 
 and gradually rises to the surface of the water. The 
 body afterwards disengages itself slowly and by degrees, 
 till at last the whole animal comes out of the shell, The 
 
34 JULY XIX. 
 
 new-born fiy remains for some minutes motionless 6 
 the water: then gradually revives, and feebly stirs i 
 wings ; then moves them quicker, and tries first to walk | 
 and then to fly. As these flies are all hatched nearly 
 at the same moment, they are seen in swarms, jumping — 
 and playing on the surface of the water for about two” 
 hours. The male and female then seek each other, and 
 unite for two more hours. Afterwards they return to 
 their sports, lay their eggs, and soon after fall down and 
 die. ‘Thus they terminate their short life at the end of — 
 five or six hours: and never survive the day that gave 
 them birth. 
 
 Let the history of these little animals teach us how 
 false a judgment we form of the duration of our lives, 
 in comparison of eternity. Sage that one of these 
 flies had preserved its active and laborious life for twelve 
 hours, and of course had arrived at extreme age, accord- 
 ing to its nature, and in comparison with its companions, 
 most of which had died at noon. If this aged insect 
 could speak, a little before its death, probably towards 
 sun-set, it would thus address its assembled friends :— 
 “«‘ I now perceive that even the longest life must end. 
 The term of mine is arrived, and 1 regret it not: for 
 old age is already become burthensome, and | can no 
 longer discover any thing new under the sun. All that 
 I have seen during the course of my long life, has 
 taught me, that there is nothing here certain or durable. — 
 A whole generation of ephemera have been destroyed 
 by a violent storm: the c6olness of the air has carried 
 off numbers of youth in their bloom. 1 lived in the first 
 ages of the world; and have conversed with insects 
 much more respectable, robust, and better informed, 
 than any of the present generation. I can also assert 
 for truth, that the sun which now appears so near the 
 earth, [have seen in the middle of the sky. Its light 
 was formerly far more brilliant than at present; and 
 our ancestors were much more sober and virtuous than 
 we are. I have seen many things. I have had a long 
 experience, and have outlived all my contemporaries. 
 My life began exactly when the sun was rising, Du- 
 ring countless years it traversed the sky in majestic 
 splendor, and diffused its benign warmth in all diree- 
 tions. But now that it is upon the decline, and going 
 to set, I foresee that the end of all things is at hand.~ 
 
Nothing perishes in Nature. 35 
 
 O, my friends! how did I once flatter myself that my 
 life would be eternal! How beautiful were the cells [ 
 formed for my abode! What hopes I founded on my 
 good constitution, my strength, my activity, and the 
 use of my wings. But, after all, I have lived long e- 
 nough, and none of those I leave behind me will run so 
 long and so delightful a course as mine.” 
 
 Thus might an insect speak which had lived nearly 
 twelve hours upon the earth. But might not a man who 
 had lived fourscore years use much the same language ? 
 The difference between twelve hours and fourscore years 
 is nothing in reference to the comparison between time 
 and eternity. Do we, in general, make a better use of 
 our fourscore years than the ephemeral fly of its twelve 
 hours ? 
 
 JULY XxX. 
 
 Nothing perishes in Nature. 
 
 Wene there any thing in the world which perished 
 without being of use, we might doubt the wisdom of the 
 Divine government. But we have reason to believe, 
 that throughout the immense circle of creation, there is 
 nothing lost, not even the smallest grain of dust ; but 
 that every thing exists for certain purposes, and that 
 each answers in its way the design for which it was 
 created. 
 
 The seed which falls from a flower is not destroyed : 
 it is often carried away by the wind to make other 
 flowers fruitful, or it takes root in the ground and be- 
 comes a plant. Other seeds or fruit which fall, are eat- 
 
 en by birds and other creatures. They mix with their 
 juices, and go through digestion, and the necessary 
 preparation to make manure for the fields, for the use 
 
 of men and animals. Certain things, it is true, corrupt 
 _and are decomposed; but then they become parts of 
 _some other substance, and serve, under a new form, the 
 _ designs for which they would not have been proper in 
 _ their former state ; because, in order to do so, they re- 
 _ quire being prepared by different transformations, and 
 _ by mixing with other substances. The butterfly would 
 never have produced its like, if it had not at first been 
 /aworm. No animal whatever, as we now see it, could 
 _haye been produced, if its germ had not pre-existed in 
 
36 JULY XX. 
 
 the first animal of its species. Nothing, therefore, pe- 
 rishes in nature: things are only separated or dissoly 
 in order to appear in a new form, and to become par 
 of some other substance. Each grain of dust may b 
 called the germ of a new creature, and holds its prope 
 place in the chain of beings, which has been produce 
 for the perfection of the whole. If you take a handfu 
 of the sand you tread on, you perhaps destroy the lives 
 of a million of insects which were the inhabitants of thi 
 sand. Were we better acquainted with the elementar 
 particles of matter, we might determine with more cer- 
 tainty what the other substances were in which they la 
 concealed before, and into the composition of which they 
 entered. 
 
 ‘«¢ But may not abortions, or children who die in thei 
 birth, be considered as creatures that perish without 
 having been of any use??? Certainly not: they fulfil, 
 in their way, the design of the Creator, and are pre-— 
 pared by many changes for their future state. Nature ~ 
 does every thing gradually. Man was first a child, the - 
 tree a shrub. Each creature exercises its powers dur-— 
 ing its short duration, and prepares itself for a new state. 
 The step that man must take to pass from the mere sen-_ 
 sitive life of childhood to the rational life of a riper age, 
 is certainly not greater than that which the child must 
 take in its mother’s womb in learning to feel. And we 
 can no more say, that such a child has not answered 
 the purpose for which it was created, than we can say 
 it of man, because he may not here below have answer- 
 ed those designs which he is not to fulfil til] he becomes | 
 an inhabitant of heaven. Each creature fulfils, in its. 
 way, and in proportion to its faculties, the end prepaid 
 sed. Like the wheels of a watch, some move quick, o- 
 thers slowly ; but all tend, directly or indirectly, to the 
 great end of their existence, and contribute according 
 to their power towards the general plan formed by God. 
 
 We may meet many things in nature which will, at’ 
 first sight, appear useless, and, consequently, to have 
 been produced without design. We may imagine that 
 others have been entirely destroyed or annihilated. But 
 let us not judge rashly, nor be too precipitate in arraign- 
 ing the ways of Providence. Let us rather believe, that | 
 all we behold, however strange and unconnected it ma 
 appear, is planned in the wisest manner; and that God 
 
 % 
 
iy eee ae 
 
 Difference of Zones. 37 
 
 fulfils his designs, even when we, blind and ignorant 
 mortals, can form no idea of the end he proposes. 
 _ Let us be assured that the hand of the Lord has plan- 
 ned every thing with the most consummate wisdom.— 
 Look around: all is connected; all is in its proper place; 
 and nothing is owing to chance. ‘There is not a thing 
 in the world useless, even when turned to dust. No- - 
 ‘thing in nature is lost ; nothing perishes ; not even the 
 smallest leaf; not a grain of sand ; not one of those in- 
 sects invisible to the: human eye; not one of the seeds 
 blown away bya zephyr. That stupendous firmament, 
 where the sun shines with such dazzling lustre; that 
 swarm of insects which play in the solar-beams, and 
 which we respire without knowing it; all appeared at 
 the word of the Creator. All is in its proper place; all 
 exists never to end; allis right; all is perfect through- . 
 out the universe which the Most High has created; and 
 yet rash and presumptuous men dare to criticise his 
 works! Let us not imitate such madness. Let us glo- 
 rify God, and secure our own peace, by believing that 
 nothing which ever was created perishes.—Even our 
 bodies perish not. Though they wear, and shall here- 
 atter be entirely decomposed in the grave, they shall 
 assuredly be re-united, and possess new life in the mor- 
 ning of the resurrection. 
 
 JULY XXI. 
 Difference of Zones. 
 
 Tue Creator having made our earth in a spherical form, 
 and having impressed upon it a double motion, it neces- 
 sarily followed, that the regions of the earth should dif- 
 fer from each other, not only in the temperature of the 
 air and the seasons, but also in the animals and plants 
 which they produce. In certain countries there is but 
 one season: summer is continual there, and every day 
 is as hot as our warmest summer days. © Those coun- 
 tries are situated in the middle of the globe, and occupy 
 the space called the torrid zone. The finest and richest 
 fruits which nature produces, grow there ; and there al- 
 so she has most liberally poured forth her treasures. 
 The days and nights are of equal length most of the 
 year. 
 
 _ There are countries, on the contrary, in which a cold 
 
 VOL II. het Pa 
 
38 JULY XXI. 
 
 more intense than that of our most rigorous winte 
 prevails during the greatest part of the year; and it, 
 only during a few weeks that there is heat enough 
 
 the few trees and herbs which are found there, to gro 
 and become green: but in those frigid zones, neith 
 the trees nor the earth produce such fruits as are pi 
 per for the nourishment of man. The greatest inequ 
 lity of day and night prevails; both lasting in their 
 
 for whole months together. : . ane 
 
 The two temperate zones, placed between the te 
 and the frigid zones, occupy the greatest part of o 
 globe. In those countries, four seasons appear more 
 less distinctly, according as they approach the te 
 the frigid zone. These seasons are, the spring, w 
 the trees and plants bud and blossom, the heat is mod 
 rate, and the days and nights nearly equal; the sm 
 mer, during which the fruits of the field and trees rip 
 
 the heat is more intense, and the days become visih 
 longer than the nights; the au¢wmn, when the fruits:as 
 seeds fall off, and the grass withers, the days and nigh 
 again become equal, and the heat daily diminishes; 
 winter, during which vegetation seems almost wh 
 suspended, the nights lengthen, and the cold increa 
 in a greater or less degree. : 
 
 The countries of the temperate zones are so situate 
 that in those which are near one of the sides of the te 
 rid zone, the seasons are direetly contrary to those 
 the other temperate zone; for when it is summer in on 
 it is winter in the other. In these regions nature see 
 to have produced the greatest varieties, with respect 
 both vegetable and animal productions. Wineis pea 
 liar to these countries ; for the vine cannot be cultivi 
 ted, either in intensely hot, or’severely cold, clima 
 Mankind, in particular, possess many advantages un’ 
 such climates. The inhabitants of the frigid zone 
 stupid, and low in stature: those of the torrid zone al 
 of a weaker constitution, have warmer passions, and le 
 natural and intellectual powers, than the inhabitants 
 the temperate zones. : 
 
 However varied the regions of our earth may be, th 
 Creator has provided for the happiness of all who inka 
 bit them. He ordains that each country should: 
 duce what is most requisite, according to the natur 
 the climate. A worm, which feeds on the leaves of the 
 
Singularities of the Sea. 39 
 
 mulberry-tree, spins for the people of the torrid zone 
 that silk of which they form their clothing: and a tree, 
 as well as a shrub, bears a kind of pod or husk filled. 
 with cotton, of which light stuffs are manufactured. On 
 the other hand, the cold regions abound in quadrupeds, 
 ‘the skins of which serve for pelisses to the inhabitants. 
 _of the north; and they are also furnished with thick fo- 
 rests, which supply them with abundance of fuel. That 
 the blood of the inhabitants of the south, naturally heat- 
 ed, may not be too much inflamed, their fields and or- 
 chards produce cooling fruits, in such plenty, that they 
 are enabled to send ample supplies of them to other 
 countries. In cold climates God compensates for the 
 want of the produce of the earth by the great quantity 
 of fish contained in the sea and lakes, and by the num- 
 ber of animals which live in the forests: and though 
 some of these are asubject of terror to man, they furnish 
 him with the finest furs, wholesome food, and many ma- 
 ‘terials for domestic use. Thus, there is no region in 
 our globe that does not experience the greatness and 
 goodness of thg Almighty. There is no country, how- 
 ‘ever barren and poor we may suppose it, where nature 
 is not bountiful enough to provide, not only the neces- 
 saries, but the comforts of life. 
 | In every place, O beneficent Father! thy wisdom and. 
 goodness may be traced. ‘Even the impassable deserts 
 and rugged mountains of Asia and Africa contain mo- 
 numents of thy wisdom.and bounty! The frigid as well 
 as the temperate zones send forth hymns of praise to thy 
 divine majesty, and thy sacred name is glorified in all 
 Janguages. But in our own climate thou shouldest be 
 particularly exalted, since we are more abundantly fa- 
 vored than millions of the other inhabitants of the earth. 
 
 JULY XXII. 
 Singularities of the Sea. 
 
 Ey general, the sea is considered only’as an object of . 
 terror, without reflecting on the wonders and blessings 
 it so visibly presents to us. It is certainly true, that 
 
 sea is a most formidable element: when its waves 
 swell mountain high, and the tempest roars. In such 
 eases, vessels are often driven out of their course, over- 
 whelmed by the waves, ms swallowed up. Sometimes 
 
 2 
 
 q 
 - 
 
40 JULY XXIf. ; 
 
 the storm drives them on banks of sand or rocks, wh 
 they are literally dashed to pieces. The whirlpools, 
 masses of water which make the ship turn rapidly roun 
 with their current, and at last swallow it up, are occa 
 sioned by great cavities in the sea, where rocks and “a 
 posite currents meet. No less dangerous are the water: 
 spouts which the wind raises from the sea towards thé 
 sky: they hover in the air, above the ocean, and the 
 wind whirls them round with violence: they often*burst 
 with great noise, and do considerable mischief ; for an 
 they approach a ship, they fill the sails, and carry it a- 
 way; then let it fall again, and dash it to pieces; bi 
 precipitate it to the bottom. At least, if they do no 
 carry it away, they break the masts, tear the sails, and 
 sink the vessel. 4 
 But we should be very ungrateful to attend only to 
 the mischief the sea occasions, without deigning to re- 
 flect on the magnificent works of the Lord, and on hi 
 goodness, which shines forth even in the depths of the 
 abyss. The first thing worthy of remark is the saline. 
 of the sea, which is such, that a pound of water con 
 tains two ounces of salt. The sea-salt appears lighte: 
 than what we use in common; and yet it is not draw 
 into the air, nor does it diminish by the continual in: 
 flux of sweet water. The cause of this is not known. 
 There may be mountains of salt in the sea; but, if so, 
 the sea would probably be salter in some places than i 
 others, of which we have no certain proof. It is possi: 
 ble that torrents and rivers may carry into the sea sal 
 and nitrous particles ; but what would these be in suc 
 a vast extent as the ocean? This salt quality, how- 
 ever, be the cause of it what it may, is indispensably 
 necessary for several purposes: it preserves the wate 
 from putrefaction, and renders it capable of supporting 
 the heaviest burthens. 
 The colour of the sea also deserves our observation. 
 It is not the same every where. Besides that, in al 
 water, the colour of the bottom and of the sky appears 
 _that it is black in deep abysses; white and foaming i 
 astorm; silvered and gilded with reflections of the mos’ 
 beautiful hues when the rays of the setting-sun shin 
 upon it; the colour of the sea varies, from the number 
 less insects, marine plants, and that mixture of substan: 
 ces which the rivers and torrents carry with them int 
 
| Singularities of the Sea. Al 
 
 the ocean. When it is calm, it sometimes appears strew- 
 ed with brilliant stars, and the track of a ship cleaving 
 
 ‘the waves is often so luminous as to resemble a river of 
 fire. These phenomena must partly be attributed to 
 -sulphureous and oily particles and other inflammable 
 
 substances ; and partly to shining insects. __ ; 
 
 A well known property of the sea is its flux and re- 
 flux. Every day, or rather in the space of twenty-five: 
 
 hours, the sea ebbs and flows twice. When the tide 
 rises, it is called the flux, or flood; when it falls, it is. 
 termed the reflux, or ebb. This phenomenon is attend- 
 ed with several remarkable circumstances. There are 
 always a flux and reflux at the same time in two parts. 
 of the globe, and those are opposite to each other.—- 
 When our antipodes have high tides, ours are the same. 
 The tide is always lowest when we are in the first or last’. 
 quarter of the moon; and our highest tide generally 
 takes place three days after the new or full moon.—- 
 There may be accidental causes, however, why the 
 tides are higher and lower at one time than another.. 
 Though this phenomenon has not hitherto been satis-- 
 factorily explained, it is still certain, that great advan-- 
 tages result to us from it, both in purifying the water,. 
 and in favoring the purposes of navigation. 
 
 The creatures with which the sea abounds are calcu- 
 Tated, as well as the preceding phenomena, to excite 
 our surprise and admiration. . Here we discoyer a new 
 world, and the number of beings which inhabit it is pro- 
 digious, Aquatic animals are not,.indeed, so varied in: 
 their species as the terrestrial: but they surpass them: 
 in size and longevity. The elephant and ostrich are 
 small. in comparison of the whale, which is the largest: 
 fish of the ocean, its length: being often from 60 to 70' 
 feet: it lives as long as an oak, and consequently no: 
 Jand-animal’s life can be compared to it. If we may 
 
 credit certain accounts, however, the whale itself is sur- 
 passed in size by an animal called the kraken, which is: 
 said to inhabit the northern seas, and to be halfia Gers: 
 man mile in circumference.. But who can even enume- 
 rate the different kinds of animated beings which: peo-- 
 ple the surface and bottom of the sea?: Who is capable: 
 of counting the number, and describing the form, struc-- 
 ture, size, and utility of these different animals? 
 _ How infinitely great is the Creator of the sea! will! 
 
 2 Dai 
 
 } 
 | 
 ! 
 | 
 
 | 
 | 
 
42 JULY XxTIT. 
 
 be the conclusion of all who seriously investigate this 
 subject. And it is not withoui the wisest reasons that 
 God has ordained the ocean and seas to oecupy two- 
 thirds of our globe. The seas were not only to be greai 
 reservoirs of water, but also, by means of their evapo- 
 ration, to become sources of rain, snow, and similar me 
 teors. What wisdom is discoverable in the connexion 
 the seas have with each other, and the continual motion 
 the Creator has impressed upon them! It is no-less 
 worthy of observation, that the bottom of the ocean is” 
 of the same nature with the surface of the earth. There 
 are found in the sea, rocks, valleys, caverns, plains, 
 springs, rivers, plants, and animals. ‘The islands in they 
 sea, are only the tops of a long chain of mountains, 
 And, when we consider that the sea has been less exa- 
 mined than any other part of the globe, we have reason 
 to believe that it contains many wonders, which neither 
 the senses nor the understanding of man can adequate- 
 ly comprehend, but which all prove the power and wis- — 
 dom of our God. Let us, therefore, adore Him who. 
 has every where, in the ocean as well.as upon earth, e-. 
 stablished monuments of his greatness. — 
 
 JULY XXIII. 
 Different Shades observable in Flowers. 
 
 Wir heart-feit pleasure I cast my eyes around, and 
 every where discover the beauties of the creation. What 
 a lovely assemblage of colours! How pleasing and di- 
 versified is their mixture! What wonderful art in the 
 disposition of those shades! Here, a light pencil seems 
 to have laid on the delicate tints; there, they are blend- 
 ed according to the nicest rules of art: The colour of 
 the ground is always such as best throws out the draw- 
 ing; whilst the green which surrounds the flower, or 
 the shade which the leaves cast- upon it, serves to set: 
 off the whole. In thus distributing and diversifying the 
 colours, our gracious God seems to have had no other. 
 view than to procure us agreeable sensations. ino 
 
 How great and wisely arranged are all the works of — 
 our Creator! We can never sufficiently admire the 
 grandeur of his designs, the magnitude of his views, 
 nor the means he employs in their execution. It is on- 
 ly with-Jabour and application that men accomplish any~ 
 
Different Shades observable tn Flowers. . 43 
 
 | single work; and after many fruitless efforts, sometimes. 
 
 succeed in imitating one of nature’s works. But the Su- 
 
 — Being, ina moment,. has given existence to mil- 
 
 s of beings, and has created them all in.a state of 
 
 _ perfection. The more we examine the works of art, 
 | the more defective they appear: but though the works 
 _ of God have been contemplated for thousands of years, 
 
 a single fault could never be found in the plan, nor can 
 
 _ any thing be imagined more perfect than the manner in 
 | which they are executed. The more attentively we 
 | sarvey the works of Omnipotence, the more we are a-- 
 
 stonished at their beauty ; and we continually discover - 
 
 _ new marks of greatness in. these master-pieces of a Di-- 
 
 wine hand. 
 
 For my own part, what peculiarly delights me in the 
 shades and colours of flowers, is their simplicity. One. 
 would sup that the Creator must employ an infinite 
 number “7 materials, to embellish nature in such a man-. 
 ner, and to distribute amengst the flowers and plants so 
 many magnificent, rich, and splendid colours; but God 
 has no occasion for painful exertions to make the crea-- 
 tion a scene of wonders:- a single element, under his 
 creative hand; assumes the most beautiful forms. The 
 moisture of the earth and air penetrates.into the fibres 
 of plants, and filters through a train of transparent 
 stalks. This is what effects all these wonders, and pro- 
 duces all the beauty we behold throughout the vegeta- 
 ble kingdom. This is the sole cause of the beauty, 
 perfume, and growth of flowers. - If each colour had ~ 
 its particular cause, the surprise of the spectator would. 
 be diminished ; but -we contemplate with pleasure, and 
 ean never tire of admiring, as the effect of profound 
 wisdom, a work, which, though varied in its parts, is 
 still simple in respect to its cause, and in which we be- 
 hold a multitude of effects depending on one single 
 spring, which always acts in the same manner. 
 
 At this moment while examining the variety of tints 
 which colour the flowers, I feel more than ever the va- 
 lue of the reason with which I am endowed. Without 
 this faculty I should be deprived of the enjoyments I 
 now possess, and flowers would exist in vain for me. 
 But by the assistance of reason, Iam capable of dis- 
 
 _ cerning the numberless charms of flowers, and the infi- 
 _ nite variety of colours.and shades which the meadows, 
 
4du JULY XXIV. 
 
 valleys, mountains, and forests, present to my view. 
 am sensible of their beauty, and so appreciate them as 
 to render them conducive to my pleasures. 1 can do 
 still more: I can, from each flower, raise my thoughts 
 to the Creator, and find, even in its varied tints, traces” 
 of his perfection. How can | sufficiently express my 
 gratitude for the gift of reason, which enables me to 
 enjoy these beauties of nature—these wonderful works. 
 of God! 
 
 JULY XXLV.. 
 The great Heats of Summer. 
 
 ‘ 
 
 Axsour this time we generally experience the greatest 
 heat; though the sun, having now entered the sign Leo, 
 is daily removing further from us. When we were near-_ 
 er to this luminary the heat was temperate; but now 
 that we are more remote, it is at its greatest degree oft 
 fervency. This phenomenon agrees, however, with the 
 laws of nature; and it is in the plan of our globe that — 
 we must seek for the reason of it. The sun was nearer 
 to us lately; but, as its rays were not strong enough to: 
 penetrate deep into the earth, we could only perceive — 
 -a moderate warmth; but, in the space of some weeks, — 
 the earth and the bodies upon it are so far heated, that — 
 even a less degree of the sun produces more effect than 
 in the beginning of the summer, when it acted upon 
 cold bodies. h 
 This plan of nature displeases many ; they complain — 
 of that burning heat, which weakens their bodies, and 
 renders them incapable of much labour. But is it not 
 unreasonable to murmur at a plan, which, being found-- 
 ed on the immutable laws of nature, is of course ine~ 
 vitable? Is it not highly ungrateful to blame that di- 
 vine government, which, in the end, never fails to pro-— 
 mote the welfare of the world? And can any one se- 
 riously wish this season less hot? Because the heat is 
 inconvenient, would we wish the fruits, which are to 
 serve for next winter’s food, not te ripen? I repeat, 
 that our murmurs are ungrateful to the Creator, who- 
 softens and compensates all inconveniences, by certain 
 advantages annexed to them. For.example, the inha- 
 bitants of the western parts of Africa, and particularly 
 those of Cape Verd, and the island of Goree, are ex- 
 
Remarkable Properties in Animals. 45 
 
 — the whole year to the intense heat of the sun; 
 t their bodies are so formed, that their health is not 
 impaired by it; and the winds, which blow continually 
 in those countries, serve to temper and cool the. air. 
 And is it probable that the Creator should show less 
 goodness to ws in this respect? O how unpardonable, 
 
 | if ever we are insensible to the proofs he gives of his 
 
 kindness, even when the heats are most oppressive! Is, - 
 it not an effect of his tender mercy, that the summer 
 nights-are so well calculated to cool the air? They 
 bring with them a coolness, which prevents the air from 
 
 _ dilating, and enables it to act so much the more forci- 
 
 bly on every thing. A single night revives the lan- 
 
 _ guishing plants, gives new vigour to enfeebled animals, 
 and so refreshes us, that we forget the weight and fa- 
 ‘tigue of the day. Even storms, which sometimes ex- 
 
 cite such terror, are means in the hands of God, of 
 cooling the air, and refreshing the creation. How ma- 
 ny fruits, also, are there of a cooling quality, which a- 
 bate the acrimony of bile—a relief so much the more 
 valuable, as the poorest among us may enjoy it. 
 
 Let us cease, then, to complain of the heat of the 
 sun, or the weight of suffering we labour under: both 
 belong to the plan of Divine Wisdom, and both are al- 
 leviated by a thousand means, which should call forth 
 our most grateful tribute of adoration. 
 
 JULY XXV. > 
 Remarkable Properties in Animals. 
 
 Or all parts of nature, the animal kingdom affords the 
 greatest wonders; and, to a lover of natural history, 
 the different instincts and properties of animals afford a 
 most interesting study: but, to a reflecting being, it is 
 something more than merely an agreeable object ; the 
 animal operations teach him to trace them back toa 
 wisdom he cannot fathom, because it surpasses all hu- 
 man conception. This is the effect I wish to produce, 
 by pointing out the singularities observable in certain. 
 animals. Ae 
 
 The manner in which birds and insects lay their eggs 
 is highly worthy of attention. The grasshopper, the 
 lizard, the tortoise, and the crocodile, never trouble 
 themselves about their eggs, nor the young ones that 
 
46 JULY XKY. 
 
 are-in them: they lay their eggs in the earth, and leave — 
 them to be hatched by the heat of the sun. Other ani~ 
 mals, by natural instinct, lay their eggs in places wh 
 the young find food the moment they come out of} the 
 shell. The mothers are never mistaken. ‘The butter- 
 fly proceeding from the cabbage-caterpillar, never lays 
 her eggs on meat; nor will the fly, which lives.on meat, 
 Jay hers.on the cabbage. Certain’ animals are so: care~ 
 ful of their eggs, that they carry them withthem where-~ 
 ever they go. The spider called the wanderer, carrie. 
 hers:in a little silken bag: when they are hatched; they 
 range themselves ina particular order on their mother’s 
 back,. who goes about with this load, and continues for 
 some time to take care of them. Certain flies lay their 
 eggs on the bodies, or in the nests. of living insects: 1t— 
 is well known that there isnot a plant which does not 
 serve to feed and lodge many insects. A fly perforates 
 an oak-leaf, and lays an egg in the hole she has made. 
 This wound quickly closes; the place swells up, and an — 
 excrescence appears, which is termeda gail. The egg 
 that was contained in the growing gall grows with it, 
 and the insect finds both lodging and food as soon asi it 
 comes into existence. 
 
 The care which animals take of their young is: almost 
 incredible, and their affection so strong that life itself is — 
 jess dear. With what tenderness do some quadrupeds 
 nourish their young! they cure their wounds by licking 
 them; they convey them from place to place; and when — 
 any danger threatens, they keep them close to them- 
 selves and defend them. If they are carnivorous, what 
 te does the mother resolutely take to get them meat! — 
 
 /ith what art does she instruct them to catch their prey, 
 to amuse themselves when they have got it, and then to 
 tear it in pieces. It is impossible, without emotion, to 
 read the account of a bitch, which, while they were dis- 
 secting her alive, still continued to lick her young ones, 
 as if to seek relief from her sufferings in this maternal 
 care, and cried out lamentably the moment they were 
 taken from her. The sea dog, during a storm, conceals 
 its young under its belly; whence they come out again 
 when the alarm is over. 
 
 Each species of animals has its peculiar inclinations 
 and wants. The Creator provides for both. Let us, 
 for example, consider those which are obliged to seek 
 
Remarkable Properties in Animals. AT 
 
 their food in the water, and -particularly sthe aquatic 
 birds. Nature has covered. their wings with an oily mat- 
 ter which the water cannot penetrate; by this means 
 they are not wet in diving, which would otherwise ren- 
 der them incapable of flying. The proportions of their 
 bodies are also different from those of other birds. Their 
 legs are placed more behind, that.they may stand up- 
 right in the water, and extend their wings above it. To 
 enable them to swim, their feet are furnished with webs: 
 for the purpose of diving, they have been given a par- 
 ticular form of body; and for that of seizing their prey, 
 nature has provided them with large bills-and long necks. 
 In a word, they are formed exactly in that way which 
 this mode of living requires. 
 
 The nautilus is a sort of shell fish, something resem- 
 bling a snail. When it wishes to ascend, it places it- - 
 self on the fore-part of its shell; and, to make itself 
 lighter, throws out the water through an opening. If it 
 wish to descend, it withdraws into the bottom of its 
 house, which then fills with water, and becomes heavy. 
 _ Wf it istend to sail, it artfully turns its shell, which be- 
 comes a little gondola, and then it stretches out a thin 
 light membrane, which swells before the wind, and ' 
 
 serves as a sail. Perhaps it was from this little nautilus 
 that mankind first learned the art of navigation. 
 
 It is with the actions of animals as with their structure. 
 The same wisdom which formed their bodies, and limbs, 
 _-and appointed them a common use, has also planned the 
 | different actions we see them perform, and directs them 
 towards that purpose for which they were created. The 
 _ brute is guided by the invisible hand of its Creator. It 
 produces works which excite our admiration, and some- 
 _ times appears to act from reason. It stops when neces- 
 sary, plans its work according to circumstances, and yet 
 only follows certain secret springs, which make it move. 
 It is an instrument which cannot judge of what it exe- 
 cutes, but is directed by the adorable wisdom of the 
 _-Creator, who has circumscribed each insect, as well.as 
 ‘each planet, within a sphere from which it cannot devis 
 ‘ate. When, therefore, 1 observe the different instincts 
 _ and industry of animals, I feel a sentiment of venera- 
 tion, and think I behold a scene where the Almighty 
 ‘Author conceals himself behind a curtain: but whoever 
 reflects seriously on the works of nature, will. every 
 
48 JULY XXVI. 
 
 where discover the finger of God; and the examinatior 
 of the wonderful construction of created beings will fi 
 him with constant gratitude to, and reverence for, th 
 Creator. Xt 
 
 JULY XXVI. 
 The Human Face. 
 
 Tue exterior of the human body declares the superiori- 
 ty of man over every other living creature. His face, 
 directed towards the heavens, proclaims his dignity. 
 which is so far imprinted on his features, that we may, 
 in some measure, judge from his countenance of the im- 
 portance of his destination. . 
 When the soul is in a perfect state of tranquillity, the 
 features are calm and composed; but, when agitated 
 and disturbed, the countenance becomes a living pic- 
 ture, in which the passions are depicted with equal force 
 and delicacy. Each affection of the mind has its par 
 ticular impression, and every change of countenance 
 denotes some secret emotion of the heart. The eye, in 
 particular, expresses them so visibly that it is impossible 
 to mistake it. It is more immediately the organ of the 
 mind than any other. The most turbulent passions 
 and the gentlest affections, are painted with great ex- 
 actness in this mirror. The eye may therefore be call 
 ed the true interpreter of the soul, and the organ of the 
 human intellect. The colour of the eyes, and their 
 motions, contribute much to mark the character of the 
 countenance. Our eyes are proportionably nearer to 
 each other than those of any other living creature. In 
 most animals the space between is so great, that it is 
 impossible for them to see the same object at once with 
 both eyes, unless it be placed at a great distance. 
 Next to the eyes, the eye-brows tend to characterize 
 the countenance. These parts being of a widely differ- 
 ent nature from the rest, their particular colour renders 
 them more striking than the other features. The eye- 
 brows are the shade of the picture, which throws out 
 the drawing and colouring. The eye-lashes, when long 
 and thick, contribute much to the beauty of the eye, 
 and give it a more pleasing look. No animals except 
 men and monkeys have both eye-lids ornamented with 
 eye-lashes ; other creatures having them only on the 
 
The Human Bere. ; 49 
 
 lower eye-lid. The eye-brows have but two sorts of 
 motion, which are performed by the assistance of the 
 
 muscles of the forehead. By means of one they rise, 
 
 and by means of the other they fall down and draw to- 
 gether. 
 The cye-lids guard the eye, and prevent the cornea 
 
 from drying. The upper one can of itself rise and fall; 
 
 the under one has but little motion. Though we can 
 at will move our eye-lids, it is not in our power to keep 
 them open when fatigue and sleep weigh them down. 
 
 The forehead is a very important part of the face, and 
 adds considerably to its beauty, if it be well-proportion- 
 ed, neither too full nor too flat, too large nor too small, 
 and if the hair, growing well, form the outline and or- 
 nament of it. 
 
 The nose is that part of the face which projects most, 
 but is the least moveable; and as it is seldom put in 
 motion but in violent passions, it serves rather for the. 
 beauty of the whole than for any expression resulting 
 from it. The mouth and lips, on the contrary, are sus- 
 ceptible of many changes ; and, next to the eyes, it is 
 the mouth which best expresses the passions, by the 
 variety of forms it assumes. The tongue also helps to 
 animate and set it in play. The red colour of the lips, 
 and the whiteness of the teeth, add to the charms of the 
 face. 
 
 Hitherto we have only examined the human face re- 
 latively to the regularity and beauty of its component 
 
 parts, without discovering their several uses ; but under 
 
 this one point of view we already perceive the infinite 
 wisdom of Him who has throughout all his works, unit- 
 ed beauty with utility. While we admire the beauty of 
 the human countenance, our admiration is increased by 
 reflecting on Him whose wisdom and goodness are so 
 conspicuous in this particular ; and while contemplating 
 each feature, we are naturally led, to meditate on the 
 
 _ prerogatives which we enjoy over the animal world, and 
 
 upon the noble purposes for which we were created.— 
 Our features were given for purposes which the brute 
 creation cannot fulfil. Our eyes command the face of 
 
 ' nature, and glance, at will, from earth to heaven; our 
 
 lips chaunt the high praises of our God; and every fea- 
 ture in the good man’s face, displays the integrity of 
 
 his heart, and the rectitude of his sentiments. 
 
 VOL. Il. 1D) 
 
50 JULY XXVII. 
 Finally, the ravages which sickness and death make 
 on the human countenance, should prevent us from be- 
 ing proud of our beauty or personal accomplishments ; — 
 and at the same time they ould lead us to reflect on 
 the superlative and immutable felicity which shall follow 
 the resurrection of the just. 
 
 JULY XXVII. 
 The Gravity of Bodies. 
 
 Gop has endowed bodies with a force which acts at all 
 times, in all places, and in all directions. lf a body en-— 
 deavour to move towards one point more forcibly than 
 to another, it is said to gravitate towards that point; for — 
 experience teaches, that bodies are inclined to descend; 
 or that, if they are far from the surface of the earth, 
 without support, they fall on it in a perpendicular line. — 
 It is by no means in the body itself that we must seek — 
 the cause of its gravity; for a body that falls remains in 
 the state in which it fell, till some exterior cause dis- — 
 place it. It is equally impossible that the air should — 
 occasion this gravity; since, being itself heavy, it must 
 
 resist the velocity of falling bodies. We must, there- 
 
 fore, seek the cause elsewhere. Perhaps the opinion — 
 nearest truth, is that the earth has the power of attract- 
 ing bodies placed at a certain distance, as the magnet — 
 attracts iron; or, it may possibly be impated to some 
 foreign substance distributed through all bodies. 
 
 But, though we cannot positively ascertain the cause 
 of this property, nothing is more evident than the ad- 
 vantages which result from it. Without it we couldnot 
 possibly move ourselves as we now do. Our centre of 
 gravity is about the middle of our bodics. When we 
 raise the right foot, we make the left to be the centre : 
 if we then bend our body forward, we are near falling; — 
 but, by putting out the right foot, we prevent the fall,” 
 and make a step. Thus our walking is, in some re-— 
 spects, a continual course of falls; during which the 
 centre of gravity is preserved between our feet. This 
 is the reason we bend forward in going up a hill, and 
 backward in coming down it. We also lean forward 
 when we carry a load on our shoulders, and backward 
 when we carry it before us, All this proceeds from the 
 laws of gravity, which govern the motions of animals, 
 when they walk, swim, or fly. 
 
Various Effects from the same Cause. 51 
 
 The same laws regulate the motions of those immense 
 bodies which roll in the firmament: the sun attracts the 
 planets, and each planet in its turn attracts its satellites; 
 or, What is just the same, the planets gravitate towards 
 the sun, and the satellites towards the planets; for a 
 body made to turn round, always flies in a direct line 
 from the centre of its orbit, if it meet with no obstacle 
 in its way. The planets revolve in their orbits with sur- 
 prising velocity, without ever deviating from their 
 course; and the moon, though attached by no chain, 
 never flies off from the earth. It seems, then, as if a 
 motion so rapid as that of the moon, would project it’ 
 far from us in the immeasurable space, if there were not 
 some power which continually impelled it towards our 
 globe, and which counteracted its centrifugal force.— 
 That power is the gravitation of the moon towards the 
 earth. If our earth were either lighter or heavier than 
 it is, what would be the consequence? It would either 
 draw too near, or fly too far from the sun. In the first 
 ease, the heat would be insupportable; and in the latter, 
 
 ‘the cold would be equally so; every thing on the sur- 
 
 face of the earth would be burnt up, or frozen. What 
 ‘would then become of the seasons, and of a thousand 
 things, which are indispensably necessary to the exist- 
 ence and convenience of mankind ? 
 
 Here again, then, O Supreme Wisdom! I find a’ 
 monument of thy wonders. By a cause so small in ap- 
 pearance, thou givest motion to animals, and to the ce- 
 lestial bodies. By the laws of gravity alone, thou pre- 
 ventest the least grain of sand from being lost, upon this 
 
 or any other globe. But it is in this that the greatness 
 
 of thy power and wisdom consists, that often the great- 
 est and most astonishing effects are produced by means 
 that appear to us the most insignificant. 
 
 JULY XXVIII. 
 Various Effects in Nature proceeding from the same Cause. 
 
 Tue whole of nature is an endless chain of causes and 
 effects ; and as all parts of the universe are connected 
 together, each motion and each event depends on a pre- 
 
 _ ceding cause, and will, in its turn, become a cause of 
 
 the effects which succeed it. The whole constitution 
 of the world may convince us, that it was not chance, . 
 ; Eg. 
 
sae + JULY XXVIII. 
 
 but a Divine wisdom surpassing all conception, which 
 first erected this wonderful fabric, impressed motion 
 upon its different parts, and regulated the great chain 
 of events depending on and succeeding each other. 
 This degree of knowledge is not very difficult to ac- 
 quire ; for though our acquaintance with nature is very 
 limited, we stil] see numberless important effects de- 
 rived from causes evident to the human understanding. 
 Many natural phenomena may furnish examples of this. 
 
 What a variety of effects are visibly produced by the 
 heat of the sun! It not only contributes to preserve the 
 life of multitudes of animals, but also to the vegetation 
 of plants, the ripening of corn and fruit, the fluidity o 
 water, the exhalation of vapours, and the formation o 
 clouds, without which neither rain nor dew could fall 
 upon the earth. ] 
 
 The ar likewise is so constituted as to fulfil several 
 purposes at once. By means of this element, animal 
 bodies are preserved, the lungs are relieved, and all the 
 vital motions acquire energy. It is air which kindles 
 fire, and nourishes the flame. By its motion and un- 
 dulation, it quickly conveys every sort of sound to the 
 ear: it gives a spring to the winged animals, and ena- 
 bles them to fly from place to place: it opens to man 
 an easy passage through the seas, the yast expanse of 
 which he could not otherwise traverse. It is the air 
 which supports the clouds in the atmosphere, till, be- 
 coming too heavy, they fall in rain. By air the morr 
 ing and evening twilight is formed, which lengthens out 
 the day; and without it, the gift of speech and the sens 
 of hearing would be completely useless. All these, and 
 many other advantages, depend on the air in which we 
 live and breathe. ‘This wonderful element, which sur- 
 rounds our globe, which is too subtile to be visible to 
 us, and yet so strong that no element can resist its” 
 force, is surely a striking proof of the wisdom of our 
 Creator. 
 
 The power of gravitation, which exists in all bodies, 
 holds the mountains in their places; confines.the ocean 
 within its limits, and the earth within her prescribed 
 orbit ; supports each created being in its proper plac 
 in nature; and preserves the distances which separate 
 the celestial bodies. 
 
 Who can enumerate the various uses of water? It 
 
Some Diséases of’ Plants. 58 
 
 Serves, in general, to dilute, soflen, and mix a great 
 
 umber of substances which we could not otherwise 
 
 “use. It is the most wholesome beverage, and the best 
 
 “nourishment for plants ; it turns mills and several other 
 _ machines ; it procures us fish, and bears on its surface 
 
 “the treasures of distant regions. 
 
 ” How various and innumerable are the effects produ- 
 ced by fire! By this element, solid bodies are either 
 sited and made fluid, or become solid bodies of a dif- 
 
 ferent nature: it makes fluids boil, or reduces them to 
 
 & vapour; and gives heat to all other bodies,.and seg- 
 
 Sation of sight to living creatures. 
 
 It is not only in the natural world that we see: the 
 
 Fal variety of effects produced by the same cause: 
 in the moral world, also, a single disposition of the mind 
 “produces effects no less diversified. Let us, for exam- 
 
 le, censider the natural inclination we have to love our 
 
 ow-Creatures: From this are derived the care of pa- 
 
 ents for their children, social ties, the bonds of friend- 
 | “ship, patriotism, goodness in those who govern, and fi- 
 | delity in those who obey. Thus, a single propensity 
 Keeps each individual in the circle prescribed; forms 
 the bo uman society; and is the principle of all 
 virtuous actions, laudable pursuits, and innocent enjoy- 
 ments. Ail these are most evident proofs that the world 
 | Was not made by chance, vor the materials which com- 
 | pose it thrown together, without connexion with each 
 | other; but, on the contrary, that it forms a regular 
 | whole, which Divine power has ordained with infinite 
 | wisdom. In every part, in each phenomenon of the vi- 
 _ sible world, we discover traces of it. Yet there is much 
 _ Inore which escapes the profoundest researches of the 
 __ greatest capacities; for we cannot trace it in all its dif- . 
 ' ferent lights. 
 
 JULY XXIX. 
 Some Diseases of Plants. - 
 
 ) VEGETABLES are subject to several diseases. Some- 
 
 | times they are covered with a whitish matter, which ad- 
 heres to them like dust. This does not proceed from 
 insects, as is generally supposed, but from a stagnation 
 ‘Of the juices, and a beginning of corruption, which at- - 
 
 | tracts insects, and invites them to deposit their eggs - 
 
 | 
 
 aes 
 
_ted to insects than that of animal substances. On the 
 
 ee ee 
 
 54 JULY XXIX. - 
 
 upon it. The stagnation of the juices is the first stage 
 of corruption ; and it is supposed, that this alone is suf- 
 ficient to attract insects, because they are seen swarm- 
 ing by millions as soon as the circulation of juices is 
 stopped in a tree, either by natural or artificial causes, 
 Hence it is that the weakest and worst situated trees are 
 most frequently subject to this malady. If insects were 
 really the cause of it, it could net be produced by art. 
 whereas, if a tree be purposely wounded, or deprived of. 
 the care it requires, it will immediately become mildew- 
 ed. On atree, thus weakened, millions of insects settle 
 at once, while the neighbouring trees are free from them 
 This corruption, therefore, should no more be attribu- 
 
 contrary, it is evidently occasioned by the stagnation 
 of the juices, which may be occasioned by many cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 A matter resembling dew, but which is glutinous 
 sweet, and corrosive, . Fequsele scorches and destroys 
 plants. It.was formerly imagined that insects conveyed 
 this glutinous juice into vegetables, or that bees carried. 
 their honey thither; but repeated observations have de- 
 monstrated that this matter falls from the the forn 
 of dew. In some countries it lies in li rops on 2 
 number of vegetables of different kinds; and, in the 
 space of a night, it covers almost all the leaves of along 
 row of trees, on which none had been perceived before. 
 Perhaps this dew may be formed from the exhalations 
 of flowers, and blossoms of trees, out of which the bees 
 extract their honey; and, if more be deposited in one 
 place than another, it is owing to the direction of the 
 wind. Perhaps, also, this matter maybe the effect of 
 some disease in the plants, when the juices are vitiated, 
 which may attract insects, like the mildew before men 
 tioned; for the leaves, branches, bushes, and weak trees, 
 are most subject to this malady. It has also been re 
 marked, that the leaves on which this species of dew 
 falls, become spotted and black; and it is highly prob 
 able that this substance is the cause of it. 
 
 ‘Here we discover fresh traces of Divine wisdom; for, 
 as the insects require food to live upon, it is for our be= 
 nefit they should be obliged to seek it in those vegeta- 
 bles which, being already spoiled, are become useless 
 to ys. It is owing to this wise arrangement, that these 
 
=? Sie acs 
 
 _ Means of Subsistence afforded to Animals. 35 
 
 animals deprive us of nothing that is necessary for our 
 support ; but merely attach themselves to that which 
 would be injurious to us. It is true, that, according to 
 the course of nature, each plant, each tree, and even 
 each animal, serves to support some living creatures. 
 We revenge ourselves on the species which hurt us, and 
 seek as much as possible to destroy them: perhaps, how- 
 ever, we should be more disposed to spare them, if we 
 considered how little real harm we suffer from their de- 
 predations. 
 
 JULY XXX. 
 Means of Subsistence which Nature affords to Animals. 
 
 Ir is one of the great effects of Divine goodness and 
 
 power, that there is every where provided a sufficiency - 
 of food to support all the living creatures with.which 
 the world is filled. It is not, indeed, wonderful, that 
 the countries which lie within the temperate zones 
 
 ‘should furnish subsistence for their inhabitants; but 
 
 that it should be the same every where else, even where 
 we could least expect to find food and pasture, and that 
 such different kinds of animals should never fail of pro- 
 visions, can only be attributed to the care of a wise and 
 beneficent Providence. 
 
 God has proportioned the supply of food to the num- 
 ber and wants of the animals which are to consume it. - 
 In most places there is a superabundance; but this pro- - 
 fusion is not so great as to cause the alimentary matter 
 to corrupt and decay: for this would be highly prejudi- 
 cial. It is peculiarly worthy of remark, that, among so 
 many sorts of food, the most useful and necessary are, 
 in general, the most common, and such as are most - 
 easily multiplied. As there are a great number of ani- 
 mals which subsist upon grass and herbs, the meadows 
 abound with these, and wholesome plants, which grow 
 spontaneously, and resist the inclemency of theair. Is 
 it not worthy our attention, that corn, the principal food 
 of man, can be so easily cultivated, and so astonish- 
 ingly-multiplied? For example, a bushel of wheat, if 
 sown in a good soil, may produce a hundred and fifty 
 bushels. 
 
 Is it not a very wise arrangement of the Creator, that 
 the taste of animals should be so different? that some 
 
56 JULY XXX. 
 
 love to feed on herbs, some on corn, others on meat, 
 . worms, insects, &c.? Some are content with a little, 
 others are almost insatiable. If all sorts of animals hac 
 an inclination for the same kind of food, the earth woulc 
 soon become incapable of supplying their wants. The 
 diversity of taste, then, which we perceive among them 
 demonstrates that it is not by accident that they prefer 
 this or that particular aliment: but that it is owing to’a 
 natural instinct, which leads them to food best adapted 
 to the nature of their bodies. By this means, all the 
 productions of the earth and sea are properly distribu- 
 ted. Not only every thing that breathes is amply pro- 
 vided for, but even those substances which, by corrupt- 
 ing, might prove a nuisance, have their particular uses? 
 for the most wholesome plants would perish, and the 
 carcases of fish, birds, and beasts, would exhale a de- 
 structive poison, were it not for the wise direction o 
 the Creator, who ordained that different animals should 
 choose these things for their food. ; 
 Food offers itself spontaneously to most animals; bat 
 they require art to discern it, and must be prudent and 
 cautious in their choice. Their provisions are so pre- 
 pared, that what is useful to one species is hurtful te 
 another, and turns to poison. From the repeated ob 
 servations and experiments of botanists, it appears, that 
 oxen eat of two hundred and twenty-six species of grass, 
 and reject two hundred and eighteen ; that goats eat of 
 four hundred and forty-nine, and leave a hundred an 
 twenty-six untouched ; that sheep feed on three hun- 
 dred and eighty-seven, and reject a hundred and forty 
 one; that the horse grazes on two hundred and sixty= 
 two, and refuses two hundred and twelve; and that 
 swine are contented with seventy-two, but there are a. 
 hundred and seventy-one which they will not eat. , 
 Some animals are obliged to seek their food with la-- 
 bour, and afar off; to dig for it in the earth, or to cols 
 lect it from a thousand places where it is scattered a- 
 bout, or even to bring it out of another clement. Many 
 are obliged to choose the most favourable time of night) 
 to satisfy their hunger in safety; others have to prepare” 
 their food, pick the seeds out of their husks, bruise thos 
 which are hard, swallow little stones to assist digestion, 
 take off the heads of the insects they feed on, break th 
 bones of the prey they have taken, and turn the fis 
 
Variely in the Stature of Man. 57 
 
 which they have seized in order to swallow them by the 
 head. Many would perish were they not to collect in 
 their nests provisions against a future time of need. O- 
 thers could never catch their prey without laying snares, 
 or digging holes for them. Some pursue their prey on 
 land; others in the air, or under the water. 
 The more the food of animals, and their manner of 
 procuring it, are diversified, the more we should ad- 
 mire the wisdom and goodness of God displayed in their 
 preservation. 
 
 ; JULY XXXI. 
 Variety in the Stature of Man. 
 
 Tue height of the human body varies considerably; but 
 the usual stature is from five to six feet. The inhabit- 
 ants of the northern countries bordering on the Icy sea 
 are not five feet in height. The least people yet known, 
 inhabit the mountains in the interior of the island of 
 Madagascar ; being scarcely four feet high. Many of 
 these diminutive people derive their origin from aations 
 of the ordinary stature ; and the cause of their degene- 
 racy must certainly be imputed to the nature of the 
 climate they inhabit. The excessive cold which pre- 
 vails there during the greatest part of the year, causes 
 the vegetables and animals to be smaller than in other 
 climates ; and why may not man be affected by the same 
 circumstances? 
 _ On the other hand, there are whole nations of a gi- 
 gantic size. The most famous of these are the Patago- 
 ‘nians, who live near the Straits of Magellan: it is as- 
 serted that they are from eight to ten feet high. Nei- 
 ther ought it to appear to us impossible that there should 
 be people taller than the Europeans: besides the traces 
 that remain of this in history, and in the monuments of 
 antiquity, there have sometimes been seen, even in our 
 own climates, men above six feet and a half high; who 
 were, notwithstanding, well proportioned, healthy, and 
 capable of all the exercises and labours which require 
 strength and activity. 
 __ Adorable Creator! thy wisdom is evident in these 
 varieties of human nature. All that thou hast made in 
 the animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms, has been 
 by weight, number, and measure, Every thing bears 
 
58 AveusT I. 
 
 thy impression: the dwarf, as well as the giant; t 
 blade of grass, as well as the oak; the worm, as well 
 the elephant. 
 
 AUGUST I.’ 
 Meditation on the Works of Nature. 
 
 Farner of the Universe! Creator and Preserver of | 
 that breathe! how great is thy majesty, and how i 
 mense are the wonders thou showest unto man! TI 
 hand has stretched out the heavens, and strewed the 
 with stars. ; 
 To-day I behold the sun rising in peerless splendo 
 to re-animate the face’of nature. To-morrow, my eye: 
 may be closed to this cheerful scene, and my ears 
 no more regaled with those melodious warblings whi 
 now resound through meadows, woods, and valleys, 
 feel that I am mortal: my life fades away like the gr 
 of the field, and withers as a leaf fallen from the brani 
 where it grew. Who knows when these words of th 
 Almighty will be heard by me, ‘ Man, return to dus 
 When my body shall be deposited in the grave, en 
 compassed by thick darkness, and a prey to devouri 
 worms, what will remain of my earthly possessions ?- 
 - Will not all be lost to me, though even all my wish 
 had been gratified, and | had flcte enjoyed unmis 
 happiness ? é 
 Oh, how senseless should I be, were I.to attach my 
 self to the transitory blessings of this world! were I 
 aspire after great riches, or be ambitious of empty lit 
 nours; or if, permitting myself to be dazzled by vail 
 splendor, envy and pride should take possession of ny 
 heart. If, too eager in my wishes, I have pursued 
 phantom of wealth or pleasure beyond the limits of 
 deration, I humble myself before thee, O God! an 
 submit to whatever chastisement thy wisdom shall di 
 rect. _ 
 Man, blinded by pride and presumption, prescriby 
 laws to his Creator! he dares to arraign the decrees ¢ 
 Eternal Wisdom! And thou, Almighty Friend of man 
 thou lovest him more than he loves himself, when thi 
 goodness withholds those deceitful enjoyments whie 
 are the objects of his wishes. 4 
 When, ip the morning, on the green turf spangles 
 
alo li lll sa 
 | Vegetation of the Stalk of Wheat. 59: 
 
 with dew, every thing presents itself in a pleasing form, 
 ‘and the wings of the night have cooled the sultry air, 
 wisdom cries out to me, Q mortal! why dost thou-a- 
 bandon thyself to wretchedness, or torment thyself with 
 ‘anxious cares about the future? Is not God thy Fa- 
 ther? Art not thou his child? Will not he who made 
 thee, take care of his own work? The plan of thy ex- 
 istence is not limited to this earth: it extends to hea- 
 ven. Life is but a moment; and the longest earthly fe- 
 licity is but a pleasing dream. O man! God has made 
 ‘thee immortal. The thought of immortality tends to 
 raise us above the earth, the universe, and time. May 
 ‘it awaken my heart, when, seduced by false pleasures, 
 1am inclined to quit the path of virtue ! 
 F The roses which crown the head of the wicked, soon 
 ade: his shameful enjoyments are mingled with dis- 
 honour and succeeded by bitter repentance. Iam but 
 a sojourner upon earth; and none but immortal joys 
 eserve my aie 
 _ O thou indulgent God, who delightest in dispensing 
 blessings, condescend to give me a heart modelled by 
 thine own will, and replete with every true virtue.— 
 While others eagerly covet the honours and pleasures 
 of the world, I meekly implore that grace which shall 
 render me contented with my situation, faithful in the 
 discharge of moral and religious duties, and deserving 
 fhe name of a wise man and a Christian. 
 ; 
 
 AUGUST IJ. 
 ) ‘Vegetation of the Sialk of Wheat. 
 
 ‘Tur stalk of wheat is composed of the principal stem, of 
 ithe small ones growing out of tite sides, and of others 
 which afterwards spring out of these. It begins to form 
 las soon as four green leaves make their appearance. If 
 ‘the plant be then taken, and the under leaf be cautious- 
 ‘ly pressed, or separated, a little white point will appear, 
 twhich gradually grows into astalk; and, under the first 
 leaf, is the little root. The white point springs out of 
 ithe substance of a knob, opens into green leaves, and 
 ‘produces a new point at the side. But these several 
 [epiats, and the stalks they produce, are not all design- 
 
 ed to bear fruit: many.of them wither, and fall off— 
 When the principal stem has acquired some growth, a 
 
 : 
 ' 
 ‘ 
 y 
 
60 AUGUST 11. 
 
 considerable revolution takes place in the plant, and; 
 the sap is then employed in the formation of the blo 
 soms and fruit. But, before that, when the plant beg 
 to vegetate, four or six leaves are seen to form ¢ 
 spring from as many knobs. - These prepare the nut 
 tive juice for the ear, which is seen in miniature,” 
 spring, upon opening a stalk through the middle. Ey 
 in autumn, this ear may be seen, in the form of a litt 
 cluster, when the knobs are still very closely united.- 
 When the plant begins to bud, the two upper leaves ¢ 
 the stalk join together, enclose the ear, and protect’ 
 till it has acquired some degree of consistency. Bef 
 that happens, all the knobs, and particularly the 
 last, though soft, are closely connected, leaving vei 
 little space between them; but as soon ‘as the ear ha 
 pierced through its coverings, all its parts lengthen, an 
 the leaves give them all the juices they contain. Th 
 knobs harden by degrees, the under leaves dry up, ar 
 the juices which nourished them are then only emplo: 
 ed in strengthening the stem. : ‘ 
 
 After all these preparations, the blossom appear 
 This is a little white stalk, extremely slender, whie 
 comes from the bag of the grain. Several other litt 
 stalks surround it: they are at first yellowish, the 
 brown, and, a little before they fade and fall off, becom 
 black. The chief use of these stalks is to nourish 
 little cluster in the bag of seeds. As soon asthe cor 
 has done blossoming, we see grains, which contain the 
 germ, and which come to perfection long before 
 farinaceous substance appears. This matter gradual] 
 increases, while the sap collects round an extremely fir 
 and delicate part resembling down. This substance 
 which exists longer than the blossoms, serves, amon; 
 other things, to hold together the opening of the princi 
 pal tube that passes through the corn. The fruit begin 
 to ripen as soon as it has attained its full growth; the 
 the stalk and the ear whiten, and the green colour o 
 the grain changes into yellow, or dark brown. Thes 
 grains are still, however, very soft, and their mealy pa 
 contains much moisture; but when the wheat is quit 
 ripe, it becomes dry and hard. t oa 
 
 We cannot sufficiently admire the wisdom manifestet 
 in the formation and growth of corn; which those wh 
 are accustomed to reflection may discover in the small: 
 
 0 
 
The Dog-days. i: Gl 
 
 est stalk, Even the leaves which surround it, before it 
 has attained its full growth, have their use: and it seems 
 as if the Creator had placed them round the stalk for 
 the same reason that an architect raises a scaffolding a- 
 bout a building, which, when the edifice is finished, he 
 takes away; for, as soon as the blade has attained its 
 full length and consistency, the leaves which protected 
 it dry up and fall off. Whole months pass away before 
 the ear of corn ventures to expose itself to the air; but 
 as soon as every thing is prepared for the formation of 
 the blossoms and fruit, they appear in a few days. With 
 what skill, also, are the stalks and ears constructed! If 
 the former were higher, the nutritive juice could not so 
 well penetrate into them; if, on the contrary, the grain 
 had been placed lower, birds and other animals would 
 get at and destroy it. If the stem were weaker and 
 smaller, the wind would break it; and if it were strong- 
 er and thicker, little animals might lodge in it, and the 
 birds perch upon it, and pick out the grain. 
 
 Merciful and beneficent Father! may all those who 
 behold a field of wheat, and contemplate the waving 
 corn, experience all the sentiments of love and admira- 
 tion which thy goodness ought naturally to excite. 
 
 AUGUST III. 
 i The Dog-days. 
 
 Tue sun, besides the diurnal motion, which appears to 
 convey him from east to west, and which occasions the 
 revolution of day and night, seems to have another mo- 
 Lion from west to east; by means of which, at the end 
 »f 365 days, he comes again near the same stars from’ 
 which he was removing for six months, and to which 
 ie was approaching the other six months. On this ac- 
 sount the ancient astronomers divided the seasons ac- 
 tording to the stars which the sun meets in his annual 
 rourse. This.course they divided into twelve constel- 
 ations, which are the twelve signs of the zodiac, called 
 he twelve houses of cB bedp cance he seems to dwell 
 )month in each ofthem. : 
 _. The summer begins with us when the sun enters the 
 ign cancer, which happens on the 21st or 22d of June. 
 tis then that he attains his highest degree of elevation 
 : bove the horizon, and that his rays fall almost directly 
 VOL i. F 
 
 ;% 
 
ee, 
 
 62 AUGUST lf. 
 
 upon us; and it is at this time that the summer heat 
 begins, which always increases in the following month 
 in proportion as our globe is more heated by the rays 
 of the sun. Hence it happens that the month of July 
 and part of August are generally the hottest part of the 
 year; and experience has proved, that, from the 201 
 of July to the 10th of August, the heat is at its great. 
 est height. Now, of all the stars in conjunction with 
 the sun, the dog-star is the most brilliant. Lost in the 
 rays of the sun, it disappears from us for a month, a 
 is the case with every star which the sun meets in its 
 course; and the month of its disappearing is the time 
 called the dog-days. : 
 
 These observations would be of little importance if 
 they did not serve to combat a prejudice deeply rooted 
 in the minds of many people. An old tradition attri 
 butes the heat usually felt at this time, to the influence 
 of the dog-star upon the earth and its inhabitants. Bu 
 the absurdity of this opinion will appear, when we res 
 flect that the occultation of the dog-star in the sun’s 
 rays, does not take place in the time we eall dog-days 
 Those days, properly speaking, do not begin till the en 
 of August, and do not end till about the 20th of Sep- 
 tember. And as the dog-star, or Strius, always advan= 
 ces farther, it will attain, in time, to the months of Oc 
 tober and November; and at last it will be found to fall 
 in the month of January, when we shall, in the dog- 
 days, experience severe cold. These observations plain- 
 ly prove, that it is impossible this star should occasion 
 the great heats which we suffer, or the effects they pro 
 duce. When, therefore, in the supposed dog-days, wine 
 or beer spoils in bad cellars ; when things liable to fer- 
 ment turn sour; when ponds dry up, and fountains 
 cease to flow; when dogs and other animals are seized 
 with madness ; and men are afflicted with various mala- 
 dies; it is not because a star is concealed behind the 
 sun, but from the excessive heat of the weather, occa: 
 sioned by another cause. : 
 
 Whoever can suppose, that certain figures, which the 
 imagination forms to itself in the sky, can have any in- 
 fluence on our globe, and on the health and reason a 
 man, discovers great want of judgment. It is not the 
 stars, but generally ourselves, that we ought to accuse 
 of the evils we suffer. If, therefore, dangerous mala- 
 
 eS 
 
Sleep. 63 
 
 dies prevail at this season, let us not impute them to 
 the influence of the dog-star, which is entirely chime- 
 rical: let us rather believe they proceed from our mis- 
 conduct and neglect. If we consider the point serious- 
 ly, we sin against a wise Providence, by indulging such 
 prejudices. Can we suppose an infinitely good Being, 
 the Ruler of the world, to have created any thing in the 
 heayena er in the earth to bea torment and misery to 
 his creatures? Instead of being guilty of such an er- 
 ror, let us glorify God, and secure our own tranquilli- 
 ty, by believing ourselves to be under the protection of 
 a merciful Father, without whose permission not a hair 
 ef our heads can perish. 
 
 AUGUST 1Y¥. 
 Sleep. 
 
 We fall asleep with more or less rapidity according to 
 our constitution and state of health, But whether sleep 
 overtake us slowly or suddenly, it always comes in the 
 same manner, and the preceding circumstances are ex- 
 actly similar in all men. 
 The first thing which happens when we are falling a- 
 sleep, is a stupefaction of the senses, which, no longer 
 receiving exterior impressions, slacken, and gradually 
 become inactive. Hence it follows that the attention fails 
 and is lost; the memory is confused; the passions be- 
 come calm; and the train of thought and reasoning be~- 
 comes deranged. When we perceive sleep coming, it is 
 but the first step to it; we are not then sleeping, but doz-~ 
 ing. When quite asleep, we have no longer that consci- 
  ousness, that fixed idea of ourselves, which depends on 
 _ the exercise of memery. To the stupefaction of the sen- 
 ses is soon added a stiffness of the muscies. This is the 
 second degree towards sleep. This state produces seve- 
 ral symptoms in the machine, which may he observed in 
 those who sleep ina chair: the eye-iids wink, open and 
 _ shut of themselves, and at last fall down; the head tot- 
 ters, and falls forward: we endeavour to support it, but 
 _ it falls still lower down, and we have no longer strength 
 to raise it up; the chin then rests on the bosom, and we 
 sleep quietly in this attitude. If our sleep be sound, all 
 voluntary functions are a didi but. the natural or 
 : 2 
 
64 . SAUEUBE TV. 
 
 vital functions are performed with more force. This ¥ 
 the third change which sleep occasions in us. 
 
 Digestion, or the preparation of humours by 
 chyle, is better performed when we sleep. When 
 are awake, the natural motions are sometimes disturb: 
 ed by those which are voluntary, and the motion of the 
 fluids is accelerated in some vessels, and retarded in o 
 thers. The blood is wasted in external actions, and 
 consequently, does not flow through the internal pa 
 so abundantly. The circulation of the blood is ve 
 strong in those parts of our bodies which are in motion 
 and it is continually pressing the humours in the secre 
 tory vessels; whilst, on the contrary, it is so weak i 
 the others, that the chyle can scarcely turn into blood. 
 A sweet sleep restores the equilibrium every where: the 
 vessels are equally open; the juices flow uniformly ; th 
 warmth is preserved in the same degree; in a word, na 
 thing is lost, but all contributes to the good of the ma 
 chine. Hence it is, that, after a sound sleep, we fee] 
 rested, refreshed, strong, and vigorous. Are not thes 
 reflections calculated to make us sensible of the good- 
 ness of our Heavenly Father? What preparatives, what 
 tender care, to procure us the blessings of sleep! I 
 particularly deserves our grateful attention, that slee 
 is attended with an entire stupefaction of the senses, anc 
 seizes us unawares and irresistibly. The first of these 
 circumstances makes sleep more sound and refreshing; 
 the second makes it an inevitable necessity. .And how 
 admirably is the wisdom of Providence displayed in the 
 regulation of the muscles during sleep! The first which 
 grows stiff is intended to guard one of our most precious 
 organs, and that which is most exposed to danger, the 
 eye. As soon as we grow sleepy, the eye-lid closes of 
 itself, and protects the eye till we awaken. In other 
 parts of the body the muscles contract with more force. 
 because their being relaxed might be dangerous and in 
 convenient. \ 
 
 Let, then; the hours in which we are disposed to en 
 joy the sweets of sleep, be preceded by gratitude and 
 thanksgiving towards our Heavenly Father. Let us 
 bless him, not only for the days happily succeeding one 
 another, but for having so formed us, that sleep retresh- 
 es and recruits our strength, Let us fall asleep with 
 
. 
 
 Divisibility of Maiter. 65 
 these thoughts, and let them be-the first that occupy 
 our minds when we awake. 
 
 AUGUST V. 
 Diwisibility of Matter. 
 
 We may easily be convinced of the infinite divisibility 
 of bodies, by the different perfumes which plants and 
 flowers exhale. How inconceivably small must the fra- 
 grant corpuscles of a carnation be, which diffuse them- 
 selves over a whole garden! If this be not a sufficient 
 instance, let us consider other objects in nature; let us 
 cast our eyes on a silk thread, the work of a poor worm. 
 Supposing this thread to be three hundred and sixty 
 feet long, it will weigh but a single grain. Consider a-- 
 gain into how many perceptible parts a length of three - 
 hundred and sixty feet may be divided. A single inch 
 may be divided into six hundred equal parts, each as 
 thick as a hair, and therefore perfectly visible. Conse- 
 quently a grain of silk may be divided into, at least, two 
 millions five hundred and ninety-two thousand parts, 
 each of which may be seen without a microscope.. And 
 as those same parts may still be divided into several more 
 millions of parts, till the division be continued beyond 
 the reach of thought, it is evident that this progression 
 may extend toinfinity. The last particles, which cannot 
 be separated by human industry, must still, however, 
 have extent, and, consequently, are capable of division, 
 although we are no longer able to effect it. 
 
 Hf we examine the animal creation, we shall discover 
 fresh proofs of the infinite divisibility of matter. A great 
 naturalist put pepper into a glass of water, and, by means 
 
 ofa microscope, he discovered in that water a multitude 
 
 -of animalculz, a thousand million of times smaller than 
 
 ‘a grain of sand. How inconceivably small, then, must 
 
 the feet, the organs of sense, the muscles, the veins, 
 
 and nerves, of such animalcule be! What must their 
 
 eggs and their young be! How small the limbs of the 
 
 Young ones, their vessels, and the juices which circu- 
 
 Jate in them! Here imagination is lost, and our ideas 
 
 are confounded. } 
 
 : It is particularly worthy observation, that the more 
 
 he magnify, by the assistance of glasses, the works of 
 Bature, the more regular on beautiful they appear.;. 
 | +3 
 
 ; 
 
66 “AUGUST VI. 
 
 while it is quite different in respect to those’of art: for, 
 
 + 
 
 when these are examined through a microscope, we ai 
 astonished to find them so coarse, rough, and imper- 
 fect, though they have been executed with all imagin 
 able care by the most eminent workmen. ‘Thus Go 
 has impressed, even on the smallest atom, an image of 
 his own infinity. The most subtile body is a sort of @ 
 world, in which millions of parts are found united, an¢ 
 arranged in the most perfect order. How astonishing 
 is that wisdom which, in the little as well as the great 
 can operate with so much regularity and perfection !— 
 How great that power which could draw out of nothing 
 such an infinite multitude of all sorts of beings ! 
 
 O God! how forcibly ought these reflections to make 
 us feel the limits of our understanding! The least worm 
 the smallest insect, the least grain of dust, may convine¢ 
 us, that there are millions of things of which we are ig 
 norant, and which we cannot explain. Try, O man! to 
 enumerate the component parts of the body of an ani- 
 malcule, which is a million of times smaller than a grain 
 of sand. Undertake to decide the degree of subtilty of 
 one of those rays of light, several millions of which can’ 
 pass through an aperture no larger than the eye of a 
 needle. Thou wilt soon find thy ideas eonfounded; and’ 
 be obliged to confess thy ignorance, and the limited state 
 of thy understanding. How then canst thou be pro 
 of thy knowledge? and how canst thou presumptuous- 
 ly arraign the ways of the Most. High, and condemn th 
 arrangements of his infinite wisdom?» Rather consider 
 it a duty and a privilege to acknowledge thy ignorance, 
 and the matchless grandeur of thy Creator, 
 
 Such is the use we should make of these meditations. 
 Let us reflect on the infinite divisibility of bodies, only 
 to feel the more forcibly the greatness of God, and ours 
 own littleness. This will give us reason to admire the” 
 wisdom of the Creator; for, by means of the infinite 
 minuteness of the particles of matter, ‘all voids are a 
 
 = 
 
 ed up, without the least interruption of motion, and the 
 universe presents a scene continually diversified. . 
 
 AUGUST VI. 
 Outward Construction of the Limbs of Insects. 
 4 
 
 Iw. general, we judge no animals worth our attention, 
 
Outward Construction of the Limbs of Insects.  6F 
 
 but those which are distinguished by their bulk. The 
 horse, the bull, the elephant, and other large animals 
 seem to merit our notice, whilst. we scarcely deign: to 
 look at those innumerable multitudes of small creatures 
 which occupy the air, the vegetables, and: the dust.— 
 How many insects do we tread under our feet! How 
 many caterpillars do we destroy! And how many flies 
 buzz around us without exciting our curiosity, or any 
 other thought than how to deprive them of existence ! 
 Nothing, however, is more unreasonable than such in- 
 attention ; for it is certain, that the wisdom and power 
 of our Creator are.noJess conspicuous. in the structure 
 of a worm, ora snail, than in that of an. elephant, a 
 horse, or a lion. 
 _ The bodies of most insects are composed of several 
 rings, which link.one within another, and have a part. - 
 in all the motions of the animal. The essential charac- 
 ter which distinguishes insects, is, that properly speak- 
 ing, they-have no. bones.. And in this circumstance of 
 their formation much wisdom is manifested. The mo- 
 tions adapted to, insects, the. manner in which they:are 
 obliged to seek their food, and particularly the trans- 
 formations they undergo, -could not be so easily per-. 
 formed, if, instead of these flexible rings which recede 
 from, or approach, each other at the will of the animal, 
 their bodies were connected and strengthened by bones..- 
 It is observable in several insects, that they have the 
 power of contracting or enlarging their heads. at plea-. 
 sure; that they can lengthen or shorten them, conceal 
 them, or cause them to appear, as their inclinations or 
 necessities may require. But there are others whose 
 heads always retain the same form, ‘fhe mouth of in- 
 sects is generally provided with a sort of teeth or a 
 trunk. ‘Lhisis necessary, both on account of their food, 
 and the different dangers to which they are exposed.. 
 Insects have two sorts of eyes: those which are bright. 
 and smooth are generally few in number; but. those 
 eyes which resemble net-work or shagreen, and of which 
 the cornea is cut in angles, are extremely numerous: 
 there are sometimes thousands of them, and as they are 
 not moveable, this defect is supplied by their number and 
 position. Many insects have not the faculty of vision ; 
 but they are compensated for this, by their more ex- 
 quisite feeling, or some other sense. 
 
68 AUGUST VII. 
 
 ‘The antennz or horns, which most insects are fi 
 nished with, are of particular use to them > these horn 
 being extended before the body when it moves, 
 feeling out the way, not only warn the animal of t 
 dangers with which it is threatened, but also enable i 
 to discover its proper food. The legs of insects are ei- 
 ther scaly or membranous : the former move by me 
 of several joints; and the latter, which are softer, mo 
 in all directions. Sometimes both these kinds of le; 
 are found in the same animal. There are insects whic 
 have several hundreds of feet: but these do not trave 
 so fast as those which have only four. . With respect 
 this part of their structure, there is infinite variety a 
 mong insects. With what art must the limbs of tho: 
 be constructed which fasten on smooth and polished 
 surfaces! How elastic the legs. of those which leap 
 How strong must those be which dig in the ground! 
 Two or four wings are placed.in the middle of the body. 
 Some are as transparent as fine gauze; others are scaly 
 and mealy; some are without covering, others are con-— 
 cealed in cases or shells. At the sides, or at the ex- 
 tremity of the body, there are orifices something like 
 the pupil of the eye; they are called stigmata, and are” 
 the organs of respiration. —~ \ 
 
 The variety observable in the construction and form 
 of the limbs of insects is prodigious; and the lives of 
 many men wouldnot suffice to obsetve and describe the 
 different figures of these little animals. How varied ar 
 the forms of insects which walk, fly, leap, or crawl? 
 And yet, they are always in the same harmony and per- 
 fect proportion. Would it not be the height of extra- 
 vagance and perverseness not to acknowledge, in all 
 this, the infinite wisdom of the Creator? We are on- 
 ly rational and virtuous in proportion as we acknowledge 
 God, and adore him in all things. Let us henceforth 
 acquit ourselves of these duties. If we see but an in-" 
 sect, let us study as much as possible its wonderful con- 
 struction, that we may have a more lively sense of the 
 greatness of God. . a 
 
 AUGUST VII. 
 Comparison between the Senses of Men and those of Animals: 
 Are there any animals whose senses are more perfect: 
 
 st 
 
Yhe Senses of Men and those of Animals. 69 
 
 than those of man? It is only in particular cases that 
 ‘this question can be answered in the affirmative: for it 
 may be said of man, that, in this respect also, he is, in 
 neral, more highly favoured than the brute creation. 
 tis, indeed, asserted, that the spider has a finer feel- 
 ing; and that the vulture, the bee, and the dog, have 
 a much keener smell: it is known, that, by means of 
 this sense, the hound follows the track of the game, and 
 that other dogs are taught to find truffles under ground : 
 the hog also, guided by scent, digs in the earth for his 
 food. Stags are supposed to have so quick a hearing, 
 that they can discern the sound of bells at the distance 
 of several miles ; and the mole hears better, under ground, 
 than man, who inhabits the surface, and lives in open 
 air. It may be added, that, in regard to sight, the eagle 
 and the lynx have greatly the advantage of man. 
 These remarks are certainly true ; but if we consider 
 animals in general, and compare them with man, we 
 must be forcibly struck with his pre-eminence in the 
 scale of creation. Man is naturally endowed with five 
 senses; and this advantage is not given to half the ani- 
 mels. The zoophytes, which form the connecting link 
 between the animal and the vegetable kingdoms, have 
 only the sense of feeling. Many animals have but two 
 senses ; others have three ; and those which have five 
 are reckoned among the most perfect class. But even 
 these have very seldom all their senses more perfect than 
 men, some of whom enjoy them in a very high degree. 
 ‘Some Indians judge, by their smell, how much alloy is 
 mixed in precious metals, as well as we can by applying 
 the touchstone to them ; others we are told, can disco- 
 ver, at a great distance, the retreats of wild beasts. And 
 the inhabitants of the Antilles can distinguish, by the 
 smell, whether a Frenchman or a Negro has last passed 
 along the road. Savages are, in some measure, com- 
 pensated for the weakness of their intellectual faculties 
 by the quickness of their senses. Many people have 
 exercised and improved certain senses to an astonishing 
 degree ; and if mankind were, like the animals, without 
 other assistance besides their senses, ta procure food, 
 and to guard them against dangers; if reason were not 
 their surer and better guide, their senses, without 
 doubt, would have acquired the highest degree of per- 
 fection, by exercising them to advantage. But, in reali~ 
 
70 AUGUST ‘VIII. 
 
 ty, man does not require senses more exquisite tha) 
 possesses :. reason compensates a hundred-fold for so 
 privileges which certain animals appear to have o) 
 him. We may.even be assured, that, if our sensés were 
 more exquisite, we should experience great incom 
 venienee from them. Let us, for example, cons 
 hearing. If we had this sense so acute as the safety 
 animals requires it to be in them, even the most d 
 noise, and the stunning din of mixed sounds, would com 
 tinually interrupt our meditations, our repose, and ¢ 
 noblest employments. , 
 Thanks to the infinite wisdom of the Creator, wh 
 has poneanges the degree of our sensations, that t 
 enable us fully to enjoy the. blessings of nature, witi 
 disturbing the noblest occupations of human reason 
 The limited state of our senses is an advantage rather 
 than a loss to us, a perfection rather than an imperfee- 
 tion. Happy the man who allows his reason to govern 
 his senses, and who enjoys all the ay, 8 whieh 
 must result from a perfect harmony between both! 
 
 AUGUST VIII. — 
 Thunder. 
 
 Tre thunder roars! O mortal man! whois it that 
 this terrible noise ?. Who is it that darts the ligh 
 from the clouds? Behold, O sinner! it isthe Ruler 
 the world ; it is the hand of the Most High which h 
 the thunder-bolt. Nature reposes in his hands: he 
 preserves and blesses it: but at his almighty word th 
 heavens and the earth are consumed by flames. 
 The thunder roars! How dreadful is the stormy s 
 The lightning flashes! The thunder-bolt is shot! 
 God! how great art thou, and how terrible is thy power! 
 The Lord, from the height of his throne, darts angry 
 looks upon us: and, by the glare of his lightning, we 
 see the grave open under our feet. 
 When the Lord sits upon the clouds, men and heroes. 
 tremble ; when he sharpens the sword of his anger, the 
 universe turns pale. God directs the thunder ; the sin= 
 ner hears and shudders; scarcely daring’ to raise his 
 eyes towards Him, whose voice seems to threaten him 
 with destruction ! i 
 Christian, let not the majesty of thy God affright hz 
 
Contemplation on a Meadow. 71 
 } 
 
 soul, even when he sits in the stormy clouds, and dees 
 ais lightning ! When the pealing thunder terrifies the 
 wicked, thy God watches over thee, and guards thee 
 ‘rom every danger. And though he should deprive thee 
 of life, all his judgments are just: he is thy master, and 
 thou wilt say unto him, Lord! my soul is at peace ; 
 whether I live or die, all my hope is in thee. 
 
 | He who, when the sky is serene, glorifies his God in 
 songs of joy and gratitude, is calm and undaunted, 
 while the rebellious sinner flees from the gathering 
 storm. But whither can the sinner flee? Can he es- 
 cape from the Most High? In vain dves he attempt 
 po hide himself! the lightning pursues, and smites him 
 in his dark retreat. O ye wicked! think not of escaping, 
 nor imagine that flight will save you ; since it is impos- 
 sible to conceal yourselves from an omnipresent God. 
 While the thunder roars, you tremble and are dismay- 
 2d; but when the storm subsides, you return to the de- 
 zeitful pleasures of iniquity. If you would obtain mer- 
 cy, adore the forbearance of Divine Justice; fulfil the 
 vows which you uttered in the hour of distreHs = A and re- 
 member that God will not be mocked. God is merci- 
 ful, and spares the rebellious ; but he does not spare for 
 ever : he is also just, and the Supreme Judge will call 
 che sinner to account. What is the thunder roaring 
 over our heads, in comparison of that solemn day, when 
 e shall hear the sound of a storm in which the ele- 
 ments themselves will be dissolved ! 
 
 | AUGUST IX. 
 
 Contemplation on a Meadow. 
 
 ‘Yz dark and majestic woods, where the fir-tree rears 
 ‘its stately head, and the tufted oaks spread their luxu- 
 iriant foliage! ye rivers, which roll your silver streams 
 among the grey mountains! it is not you I now design 
 to praise: the verdure and enamel of the fields are the 
 _gbjects of my present meditation. 
 
 How many beauties present themselves to the sight, 
 and how varied are they! Thousands of vegetables, 
 and millions of living creatures! Some flutter from 
 flower to’ flower, while others creep through the dark — 
 labyrinths of the tufted grass! All these insects, so in- 
 finitely varied in form and beauty, here find. food and 
 
72 AUGUST IX. 
 
 happiness ; all inhabit this earth, as we do: and, he 
 ever contemptible they may appear, all are perfect i 
 their kind. 5 
 How soft the murmur of that limpid stream, as 
 gently laves the flowers, which, bending over the grass 
 bank, frequently kiss the dimpling wave, or dance r 
 flected in its surface! Behold that immense profusi 
 of waving herbs! What a mild lustre the sun casts o1 
 those different shades of green! Some delicate plan 
 interweave themselves with the grass, and thus mix the 
 tender foliage; others proudly rear their heads abe 
 their companions, and display flowers without perfume 
 whilst the humble unassuming violet peeps forth beneat! 
 the banks, and impregnates the air with fragrant odo 
 Thus we often see the virtuous but indigent man diffusi 
 happiness around his little sphere; whilst the sons ¢ 
 vice, clothed in superb attire, consume the blessings ¢ 
 the earth in idleness or dissipation. wo. 
 Winged insects pursue each other in the grass. Some 
 times I lose sight of them in the verdure, and then agai 
 I see a swarm of them suddenly rising in the air, 
 sporting in the rays of the sun, 
 What is that gaudy flower, waving near the brook} 
 How lively its colours! how beautiful! I draw nea 
 and smile at my mistake: a butterfly flies off, and leave 
 the blade of grass which bent under its weight. In g 
 nother place I perccive an insect clothed in a black cui 
 rass, and adorned with brilliant wings. It comes bu 
 zing to rest upon a blue bell, perhaps by the side of it 
 companion. 
 What other buzzing is this I hear? Why do thos 
 flowers bend their heads? It is aswarm of young bees 
 They have lightly fown from their distant habitation 
 and dispersed themselves over the gardens and fields 
 Now they are collecting sweet nectar from the flowers, 
 in order to carry it to their cells. There is not an idle 
 amongst them. They fly from flower to flower; and . 
 in seeking their stores, they conceal their velvet head 
 in the cups of the flowers, or penetrate with labour inte 
 those that are not yet unfolded. ; 
 There, on a high stalk of clover, is perched a butter- 
 fly. She shakes her gaudy wings, settles the shining 
 feathers which adorn her head, and seems proud of her 
 charms. Beautiful butterfly! make that flower bend, 
 
» 
 
 Mischief occastoned by Animals. 73 
 
 which serves thee for a throne, and contemplate thy 
 rich dress in the mirror of the water: then wilt thou re- 
 semble a young beauty, admiring herself in the glass 
 which reflects her charms: her garments are less beau- 
 tiful than thy wings, and her thoughts are as light as 
 thine ! 
 
 Behold this little worm playing-on the grass! No re- 
 searches of luxury, no human art, can imitate the green 
 and gold which cover its wings. 
 
 O how beautiful is nature! The grass and flowers 
 crow in rich profusion ; the trees are cevered with foli- 
 age ; the gentle breeze salutes us; the herds seek their 
 pasture; and the bleeting lambs skip and rejoice in their 
 existence! Thousands of green blades rise up in this 
 meadow, and every blade is spangled with a drop of 
 lew. The leaves of the primrose are agitated by the 
 passing zephyr, and the melody of the nightingale is 
 heard among the adjacent hills. Every thing expresses 
 and inspires joy. It reigns in the hills and dales, in 
 woods and thickets. Nature is beautiful even in her 
 least productions! and whoever can be insensible to her 
 charms, becomes a prey to tumultuous desires, pursues 
 false blessings, and deprives himself of the purest plea- 
 sures. Happy he whose inrocent life passes away in 
 the enjoyment of the beauties of nature! The whole 
 creation smiles upon him, and joy attends him where- 
 ever he goes, and under whatever shade he reposes. 
 Pleasure springs out of every source, exhales from each 
 
 ower, and resounds in every grove. Happy he who 
 akes pleasure in innocent delights! His mind is serene 
 sacalm summer-day; his affections are gentle, and 
 pure as the perfume of the flowers around him. Hap- 
 py he, who, in the beauties of nature, traces his God 
 and devotes himself entirely to the service of the Most 
 digh, 
 | AUGUST X. 
 
 : Mischief occasioned by Animals. 
 
 iP 
 
 T is often distressing to see some of the finest and most 
 
 Laretifal productions of nature exposed to the ravages 
 
 fanimals. Every summer we witness great depreda- 
 
 ons on the vegetable kingdom, occasioned by the ra- 
 
 acity of different kinds of birds, insects, and reptiles. 
 VOL.’ II. 
 
ver AUGUST xX. 
 
 How many trees are destroyed, and fruits consumed 
 by worms and caterpillars! How many things neces: 
 sary for our subsistence are we deprived of by the in- 
 satiable sparrow, and the no less voracious raven! How 
 sad is it to see a whole field destroyed by rats or locusts 
 These and similar complaints are frequently made b 
 persons who seem to imagine that certam animals exis 
 only to torment mankind. It is true, there is some foun 
 dation for such complaints; and it cannot be denied that 
 some creatures occasion much mischief. It is easier 
 exterminate wolves, lions, and other wild beasts, thar 
 to extirpate insects when they swarm over a whole coun: 
 try. In Peru, a sort of ant called chako is a real plagu 
 to the inhabitants. Their lives would even be in dan- 
 ger, if they did not use precautions to deliver them 
 selves from these dreadful insects. It is well know 
 what devastation caterpillars make on our fruit-trees 
 and ‘mice on our fields. But, however great these in 
 _ conveniences may be, they do not authorise such bitte 
 complaints as some people make—complaints in whic 
 self-love has too great a part. We are pleased at ob 
 serving that the creatures hurtful to us destroy one a 
 nother; and we think we have a right to take away the 
 lives of animals, either for our food, or for any othei 
 purpose ; but we cannot bear that they should take a 
 thing from us. We expect they should serve for ou 
 subsistence, and yet will give up nothing to them. 
 reality, however, have we any more right over the lift 
 of a gnat, than it has toa drop of our blood? Besides, 
 in complaining of the voracity of animals, we do not 
 consider that this arrangement of nature is not so dis- 
 advantageous as it appears. To be convinced of this, 
 we have only to consider the animal kingdom collee- 
 tively. We shall then perceive, that many species ap 
 
 _ parently noxious, are, in reality, of great utility; an 
 that it would be dangerous to endeavour to destroy 
 them. 
 Several years ago, some inhabitants of the then Eng: 
 lish colonies of America endeavoured to extirpate the 
 tribe of jays, because they imagined that these bird 
 did much mischief to the corn; but, in proportion as 
 the number of jays diminished, the people were struck 
 with the havock made by an enormous multitude o} 
 worms, caterpillars, and particularly May-bugs. 
 
Mischief occasioned by Animals. 75 
 
 checked the persecution against the jays; and, as soon 
 as these multiplied again, they put an end to the plague, 
 which had been a consequence of their destruction. 
 
 Some time since, a project was formed in Sweden to 
 
 destroy all the crows; but it was observed that these 
 birds were not only fond of grain and _plauts, but that 
 they devoured immense numbers of worms and cater- 
 
 ilars, which subsist entirely upon the leaves and roots 
 of vegetables. 1n North America they used every ex- 
 ertion to drive away the sparrow tribe; but, in conse- 
 quence of this measure, the gnats multiplied so prodi- 
 giously in the marshy countries, that whole tracts of 
 land were left uncultivated. 
 
 Pheasant-hunting is so considerable in the isle of Pro- 
 
 cida, that it occasioned the king of Naples to prohibit 
 the use of cats to the inhabitants. At the end of a few 
 years, however, the rats and mice increased so much, 
 and occasioned such mischief, that this order was abo- 
 lished. 
 
 Aad why should we be so selfish as to envy creatures 
 the smail part of our provisions which they require for 
 food? Can we possibly consume all that nature pro- 
 duces? Shall we want any thing for our support or 
 pleasure, because birds, mice, and insects, help us to 
 consume the blessings which God grants in such pro- 
 fusion, and of which a part would be wasted, were not 
 the-animals to feed on it? Instead, then, of giving way 
 : to unjust complaints, let us rather acknowledge the wis- 
 dom of our Creator. Every thing in the vast empire of 
 ‘nature is connected. No creature is useless, or placed 
 there without design, although the use of many animals 
 isunknown to us. Their mere existence should suffice to 
 convince us, that they were created for the wisest pur- 
 beta Thus the apparent destructions and disorders 
 
 in nature should make us look up to a God, who has’ 
 created nothing in vain; who preserves nothing with- 
 out a reason; and who, if he permit any thing to be- 
 destroyed, it is not without a wise design. Were we 
 
 thoroughly convinced of these truths, all the works of. 
 Goal would leadus to glorify and bless him. 
 
 G2 
 
76 AUGUST XI. 
 
 AUGUST XI. 
 Variety of Colours. 
 
 Wuen we consider how dull and melancholy the cour 
 try would be, and how confused all objects would ap= 
 ear, if there were only one colour, we must acknow 
 edge the wisdom and goodness of God, who, by form. 
 ing such a variety of hues, has increased and diversified 
 our pleasures. Had he not designed to place us in a 
 agreeable habitation, why should he have adorned a 
 its parts with such various and beautiful paintings? Thi 
 sky, and all the objects seen at a distance, are painte 
 in the great style: splendor and magnificence are their 
 characteristics: but lightness, delicacy, and the minute 
 graces, appear in the objects designed to be seen near 
 such as foliage, birds, flowers, &c. 
 
 But whence proceeds the distinction of colours 
 Each ray of light appears to be simple; but, by refrac 
 tion, it divides into several; and hence arises the diver- 
 sity of colours. A glass of water, placed in the sun 
 reflects certain colours on white paper; and angulai 
 glasses, or prisms, well cut and polished, reflect s 
 more vivid colours. By holding a prism towards th 
 sun, or by receiving a ray of light upon it, through 
 small hole in a window-shutter, we may see all the ec 
 jours of the most beautiful rainbow. And these are in 
 proportion more or less vivid, according as the refraction 
 of rays is more or less strong. The most refrangibl 
 ray is the violet; and, consequently, it is the weakes 
 Afterwards comes the indigo; then the blue, green 
 yellow, and orange; and lastly the red, which is of 2 
 the least refrangible. , 
 
 ‘The nature of coloured bodies contributes to the va- 
 riety of hues. The smallest parts in almost all bodies 
 are transparent. This is the cause of their breaking 
 absorbing, or reflecting the rays, sometimes one way 
 and sometimes another, lke prisms. Besides, wha 
 proves that colours are not inherent in bodies is, thai 
 the neck and plumage of a pigeon or peacock, and cer 
 tain stuffs, as taffetas, &c. change colour according te 
 the position in which they are placed. This may en 
 ble us to comprehend whence the diversity of colour 
 proceeds. ‘The whole is comprised in this, that the 
 
 1 
 
Builtlings of the Beavers. 77 
 
 surfaces of all bodies are composed of extremely small - 
 flakes, which, according to their different thicknesses, 
 reflect some coloured rays, while they admit or absorb 
 others in their pores. Thus, when a body, whose sur- 
 _face is smooth, reflects and throws out almost all the 
 rays of light, it appears whife; and when, on the con-- 
 trary, it absorbs them, it is d/ack. 
 Let us, here, admire the goodness and wisdom of 
 God. If the rays did not divide, and were not differ- 
 ently coloured, every thing would be alike, and we could 
 only distinguish objects by reasoning, and by circum- 
 stances of time and place. How tedious and perplexing 
 would it be, if we were obliged to distinguish one thing 
 from another by reasoning! Cur whole lives would be 
 taken up in studying, rather than in acting, and we 
 should be for ever in a state of uncertainty. Were 
 there but one colour in the world, our eyes would soon 
 be tired; and this dull uniformity would give us more 
 ‘disgust than pleasure. But the different colours which 
 God has ordained ‘serve to spread more beauty on the 
 earth, and to afford pleasures ever new to the eye. This 
 isa fresh proof, that God, in the formation of the world, 
 not only considered the essential perfection of his works, 
 but adorned them also with every thing which could en- 
 hance their value. In the mixture and different shades 
 of colours, the useful and the beautiful are ever united. 
 As far as our sight can reach, we always discover new 
 harms in the fields, the valleys, and the mountains. - 
 All contribute to give us pleasure, and all ought to_ex-- 
 i our gratitude. 
 
 : AUGUST XII. 
 Buildings of the Beavers. 
 
 ‘Hetlas who had never heard of the industry of bea-- 
 vers and their manner of building, were shown some of” 
 heir edifices, he would certainly suppose them to be 
 he work of some skilful architect: The whole per- 
 ormance of these amphibious creatures is wonderful. . 
 i regularity of the plan, the size, solidity, and ad- 
 
 irable contrivance of their buildings, must fill every ~ 
 
 tentive observer with astonishment. 
 
 The beavers choose a place to build on where they: .« 
 ave plenty of provisions, and near a river, in ore- 
 
 G3. 
 
 ee: 
 
ei } 
 78 AUGUST XII. 
 
 der to have a reservoir of water to bathe in. They bal 
 gin by constructing a dike, or bank, which keeps the 
 water ona level with the first floor of their building. 
 This bank is sometimes a prodigious work, from ten te 
 twelve feet thick at the foundation: it is made sloping, 
 and diminishes insensibly, till it is but about two ft 
 breadth at the top. The only materials of this dike are 
 wood and clay. The beavers cut pieces of wood, as 
 thick as a man’s arm, with wonderful facility. They 
 fix these perpendicularly in the ground, very close te 
 each other, and interweare them with other pieces 
 smaller and more pliant. But as the water might still 
 run through, and leave their reservoir dry, they hay 
 recourse to clay, which they well know where to find, 
 and with which they fill up all interstices both within 
 and without. And in proportion as the water rises, 
 they continue to raise their bank. , 
 Having completed their dike, they begin to work at 
 their houses, which are round or oval buildings, divided 
 into three stories, raised one above another: one of the 
 "is below the foundation of the dike, and generally full 
 of water: the other two are above it. They fix these 
 little buildings in a very solid manner on the edge of 
 their lake, and always i stories, that, in case of the 
 water rising, they may still be able to lodge above it 
 If they find a little island near the watering-place, they 
 build their house upon it as being more solid, and the 
 are less incommoded by the water, in which they ca 
 not remain long atatime. If they do not find this co 
 venience, they, with the help of their teeth, force pil 
 or stakes into the ground, to support the building, an 
 preserve it trom wind.and water. “Fhey make two doors 
 at the bottom to go out into the water: one leads to 
 their bathing-place; the other is-a passage to the place 
 where they carry all the dirt, &c. from their upper a= 
 partments. They have a third door, higher up, for E 
 
 of being taken when the ice closes up the lower ape 
 tures. Sometimes they build their houses entirely o 
 dry ground, and dig ditches five or six feet deep, to g 
 to the water. They use the same industry, and t 
 
 same materials, for the buildings as for the dikes. _T. 
 
 walls are perpendicular, and about two feet thick. The 
 eut off with their teeth the ends of the sticks which pro 
 ject from the wall: then, mixing clay with dry _ 
 
 { 
 x 
 } 
 ¥ 
 zg 
 
Buildings of the Beavers. . rs 
 
 they plaster both the inside and outside of their build- 
 ing; their tail serving as a trowel on this occasion. The 
 interior of the house is arched, and its size is propor- 
 tioned to the number of inhabitants. A space twelve 
 feet long, by eight or ten wide, serves for eight or ten 
 beavers. if the number be greater, they enlarge the 
 building accordingly. 
 
 The znstruments which the beavers employ, are four 
 strong and sharp teeth: two fore-feet, the claws of 
 which are divided; two hind-feet, furnished with mem- 
 
 branes ; and a tail covered with scales, and formed like 
 
 an oblong trowel. With these few simple tools they 
 
 - excel our masons and carpenters, provided as they are 
 
 ’ 
 
 with trowels, squares and hatchets. With their teeth 
 
 they cut all the wood they require for building; they 
 make use of their fore-feet to dig the ground, and to 
 
 soften and mix the clay; their tail supplies the place of: 
 a wheel-barrow to carry their mortar or clay, and after- . 
 wards serves as a trowel to plaster it on. 
 
 The works of the beaver have the greatest resem- _. 
 blance to those of men; and, if we were to judge by the - 
 first impression they make upon us, we should suppose - 
 them to be produced by rational beings. But; on a 
 more attentive examination, we shall find, that in all 
 their proceedings, these animals act not upon reflec- 
 tion, but from mere natural instinct. If reason and re- 
 flection guided their labours, they would build differ-- 
 ently now from what they did formerly, and would gra-- 
 dually improve in the style of their architecture. But 
 we find that they continually follow the method of their 
 progenitors; and never deviate from the plan which na- 
 ture has prescribed to them. Hence the beavers of the 
 present age build exactly in the same manner as those 
 which lived before the deluge. But this does not ren- 
 der them unworthy of our attention and admiration, as, 
 of all animals which live in a social state, they come the 
 nearest to the human race. We need only observe them, 
 to be convinced that beasts are nct mere machines, but 
 that all their actions and motions are directed by a high- 
 er principle. Yet, what infinite difference has the Crea- 
 
 ‘tor placed between them in their faculties! How vast- 
 
 ly superior is the instinct of the beaver to that of the 
 
 sheep! and what Divine wisdom is manifested in those . 
 gradations. by which brutes insensibly approach to the . 
 
80 AUGUST XIII. 
 
 human species! May we profit by our discoveries ¢ 
 the different faculties of animals! and may we make 
 of them, by improving dur knowledge and’ love of 
 Creator of all beings! 
 
 AUGUST XIII. ‘ 
 Manner in which the Nutrition of the Body is effected. — 
 
 ALIMENTARY matter may be considered as consisting 
 of two parts: the one nutritious, which: should ce 
 tinue in the body; the other not nutritive, and which 
 should be expelled. It is indispensably necessary tha’ 
 our food should be broken, and its parts separated. 
 is begun in the mouth by chewing, or mastication. The 
 incisors or fore teeth, cut and divide the pieces; the 
 canine, or side teeth, tear them; and the double teeth 
 grind them small. The tongue and lips also contribute 
 to this process, by keeping the food under the teeth as 
 long as necessity requires. Certain glands, being com 
 pressed in the act of mastication, throw out a quantity” 
 of saliva to moisten the alimentary matter, and render 
 it more easily divisible, as well as to contribute to its 
 digestion. Hence we perceive the advantage of proper- 
 ly. chewing our food before it be received into the 
 stomach. ft 
 The food thus comminuted, mixed, and moistened, 
 is received into the pharynx, or beginning of the throat, 
 and. passes through.a canal where there are glands which 
 continually; secrete a liquor to lubricate. the throat, and 
 render the passage of the aliments more easy. When 
 this happens to be too dry, we feel the sensation of — 
 thirst, which excites us to drink. The food follows the - 
 course of the cesophagus, or gullet, till it descends into — 
 the stomach; in which, by the action of a fluid called’ 
 the gastric juice, digestion is performed. When we- 
 have too long abstained from eating, this fluid irritates 
 the nervous coat of the stomach, and produces the sen-— 
 sation of hunger. The stomach is in perpetual. motion, 
 owing to the contraction. of its fibres from above down-— 
 ward; so. that its cavity is straitened, the lower termina-- 
 tion rises toward the centre, and the whole is equally 
 contracted. The food, prevented from returning into 
 the esophagus, by a valve covering the upper orifice of 
 the stomach, passes through the pylorus, or inferior, 
 
Nature considered in different Points of View. 81 
 
 opening, into the intestinal canal ; which, strictly speak- 
 ing, is a continuation of the stomach. This canal is 
 subject to a constant motion, called the peristaltic mo- 
 tion; by which the whole alimentafy mass is complete- 
 ly agitated. By the preceding operations the aliments 
 are reduced to a kind of soft paste, which passes slowly 
 through the intestines by means of their vermicular mo- 
 _ tion; and is afterwards mixed with the bile, which is 
 secreted by the liver, and stimulates the intestines to 
 action. The orifices of certain fine vessels called lac- 
 teals are discovered in each intestine; and the whitest 
 and purest part of the alimentary mass, passing through 
 these, is conveyed into a larger vessel, by which it as- 
 cends through the chest, and is thrown into the veins. 
 It then loses its whiteness in the colour of the blood; 
 _ and, thus prepared and perfected, it is conveyed by nu- © 
 merous canals into different parts of the body, to which 
 _ it imparts life and nourishment. The gross and innu- 
 | 4ritious part, which is found in the large intestines, 
 _ passes into the rectum, and in due time is expelled from 
 the body. 
 
 What a variety of operations are requisite to accom- 
 plish one of the necessities of the human body! How 
 | many parts and organs concur in providing for the 
 growth and nourishment of the whole! The digestion 
 of food, and the secretion of so many different juices, 
 _ must be effected by the intimate connexion which sub- 
 _ Sists between the external parts of the body: and it is 
 worthy of remark, that whilst these are exercised to ef- 
 _ fect our nutrition, they serve also for other purposes. 
 | The tongue, for example, is useful in mastication, but 
 it is also the organ of speech and taste. And this is 
  eertainly a demonstrative proof of our Creator’s wisdom. 
 Let us frequently reflect upon this subject, and it will 
 _ furnish us with a rich fund of useful and interesting 
 - meditations. 
 
 : AUGUST XIV. 
 
 / Nature considered in different Points of View.. 
 
 _ Tue works of nature, so superior in every respect to. 
 those of art, are particularly distinguished by that ad- 
 
 mirable variety which continually affords new subjects 
 _ of pleasure and surprise. We look once or twice at-a 
 
| 
 1 | 
 82 AUGUST XIV. | 
 
 work of-art; and if we do return to it again, we at la 
 grow tired, and regard it with perfect indifference. Bi 
 when we attentively examine and reflect on the work 
 of nature, our mind, instead of being fatigued, experi 
 ences new delights, and could continue the contempla 
 tion for ever. Ay 
 When we consider nature in her most sublime and ma- 
 Jjestic point of view, we are astonished at the immensity 
 of the heavens, the inconceivable multitude of the stars, 
 and the immense extent of the sea. Compared wit 
 these, all the works of art, however great and excellen 
 in themselves, are insignificant and contemptible. All 
 that God has, made, and all that he does, is stamped 
 with a grandeur far surpassing our conception, To give 
 us an idea of his infinity, he had only to form the star= 
 ry sky; which displays the magnificent greatness of the 
 Deity, more than all that the earth contains. Is there” 
 any thing so well adapted to inspire us with profound 
 veneration for God, as the contemplation of these great 
 works ? . With what religious awe should we be inspired, 
 on beholding those great phenomena of nature, whic 
 no mortal could produce, such as earthquakes, volca- 
 noes, inundations, storms, and tempests; all of which 
 forcibly impress. the mind with a sense of the majesty of 
 the Creator of heaven and earth. Nature also presen 
 itself in the most pleasing point of view. We beho 
 valleys adorned with verdure and beautiful flowers; fiel 
 promising luxuriant harvests; and hills covered wi 
 trees, vines, simples, and medicinal plants. In all the 
 cheerful scenes, God appears as the friend and benefa 
 tor of mankind, who openeth. his hand, and filleth 
 things living with plenteousness. This is the season i 
 which all nature furnishes. striking proofs of his goo 
 ness and munificence. Every thing combines to pleas 
 and flatter our senses, to support and rejoice us. ~ 7 
 
 But the time will soon come, when nature will appea 
 under a sad and gloomy form: it will lose much of it 
 beauty and variety; and will resemble a desert whi 
 promises neither riches nor pleasure. Each day bring 
 us nearer to that gloomy season; and the lengthening” 
 evenings already warn us:that we must scon confine our-— 
 selves:to our apartments, But, even-under this form, 
 nature has many attractions, and winter itself concurs” 
 in the perfection of the creation; faa without. it. we 
 
 — 
 
» Mischief oecastoned by Rain. §3 
 
 _ should soon be deprived of the pleasures of spring and 
 ‘summer. Let us apply these reftections to our own 
 lives: they are equally liable to variation, and are con- 
 tinually assuming new forms. To fine and cheerful 
 _scenes, the most dull and melancholy often succeed. In 
 “prosperity, therefore, let us prepare for adversity ; and 
 ‘in eyery situation let us bless and praise the adorable 
 _ Author of our being. 
 
 | AUGUST XV. 
 | Mischief which may be occasioned by Rain. 
 
 |MoperatTE rain always contributes to the growth and 
 fertility of plants; consequently, it is an inestimable 
 | blessing to the earth. But when it falls too vehement- 
 ly, or continues too long, it becomes hurtful to vegeta- 
 ‘bles. When too violent, it forces delicate plants into 
 | the earth ; and when of too long continuance, it pre- 
 _yents their growth. Excessive moisture deprives them 
 of the necessary heat ; the circulation of the sap is in- 
 _terrupted; the secretions are imperfectly performed ; 
 _and the plants droop and are in danger of perishing. 
 _ This, however, is not the only way in which ram is 
 | prejudicial ; as it sometimes occasions great destruction. 
 | When several clouds, driven by impetuous winds, meet 
 | in their course with towers, mountains, and other ele- 
 | vated places, they burst, and suddenly pour down the 
 | water with which they were filled. This frequently 
 causes much damage ; for water, not being compressi- 
 | ble, must, when pressed down, burst suddenly, and flow 
 | with great-violence from mountains or other high places. 
 It is not wonderful, then, that it should sweep away 
 | large stones, tear up trees, and throw down buildings ; 
 | for two causes combine to render its effects more vio- 
 | lent: on one hand its quantity, and on the other its ra- 
 | pidity increased by the height from which it falls; the 
 | action of a body which moves, being always in prepor- 
 | tion to its mass and its velocity. Water-spouts are still 
 | more formidable. In figure they resemble an inverted 
 | cone, with the point towards the ground, and the base 
 | joining to a cloud. These water-spouts attract and 
 | draw up every thing in their way, and afterwards dash 
 them down in the torrent. If the point of this conical 
 stream touch the sea, the water boils, foams, and rises 
 
84 AUCUST XV. ca 
 
 into the air with a terrible noise ; but if it fall on build 
 ings or vessels, it shatters and throws down the former, 
 and shakes the latter so violently that they often found. 
 er. In all probability, this meteor is produced by th 
 action of winds blowing in contrary directions, and 
 meeting several clouds, which they drive violently a 
 gainst each other. When these opposite winds strike 
 the clouds on one side, they, of course, occasion their 
 turning round rapidly; and in this circular motion they 
 assume the form of a whirlwind; and, their weight be- 
 ing suddenly increased by the force of pressure, they 
 fall down impetuously; and in their fall they take the 
 form of a column, sometimes conic, sometimes cylindri- 
 cal, which turns round its centre with great rapidity and 
 violence, in proportion to the quantity of water and to 
 the velocity of its descent. 
 Cataracts and water-spouts are always dangerous. 
 Fortunately, the latter are very rare on land, though 
 they are frequent at sea. As to cataracts, mountain 
 ous countries are more exposed to them than those 
 which are flat and level; and they happen so seldom, 
 that many years pass without an acre of ground being 
 destroyed by them. -However this may be, it is very 
 unjust to murmur when these disasters happen. Many 
 people are greatly affected by these events; they look 
 upon them as most fatal, and their imagination multi- 
 plies and magnifies each object of terror. When alittle 
 corner of the earth which, in comparison of our globe 
 is a mere speck, happens to be laid waste by a water- 
 spout, or any similar accident; we are apt to complair 
 as if all nature were in danger of perishing: and, com- 
 pletely absorbed in the contemplation of these local and 
 transitory disasters, we forget the innumerable blessings 
 which God diffuses over the earth, and which far out- 
 weigh his occasional judgments. If we were just, we 
 should be more affected with the general order and hap- 
 piness resulting from the present plan of nature, than 
 with those partial evils which are not in the common 
 course of things, and ought only to be considered as 
 exceptions to a general rule. Would it not be both un- 
 just and ungrateful, to observe only the storms, earth-— 
 uakes, and inundations, which seldom occur, while we © 
 orget so many daily blessings, and those numerous ad- 
 vantages which accrue to us from the constant and re- 
 
 i Re ee 
 
E The Care of Animals Sor their Young. 83 
 
 _ gular return of the seasons? Do we not sin against 
 _ God, if we only consider the mischief which certain ac- 
 cidental things occasion, without reckoning the multi- 
 tude of blessings we daily enjoy ?—Let us never hence- 
 forth be guilty of such criminal and thoughtless ingra- 
 titude. Let us rather reflect, with humility and admi- 
 ration, on the works of God, and endeavour to form 
 just and suitable notions of them. There are certain 
 things in which we can scarcely discover any vestige of 
 infinite wisdom, and benevolent design ; but if we cul- 
 tivate the study of nature with an attentive and religi- 
 ous mind, these will be gradually unfolded, and our er- 
 _ rors will be rectified. 
 
 F AUGUST XVI. 
 The Care of Animals for their Young. 
 
 THE most remarkable instinct implanted by nature in 
 animals, is that which they discover in the preservation 
 of their young. Few creatures abandon their progeny 
 to blind chance. On the contrary, their love extends 
 to their posterity in the most solicitous manner, and o- 
 _perates in that way which is best adapted to their na- 
 ture and different modes of living. 
 __ Some of those little creatures which are hatched from 
 the eggs of fish and insects, have no need of being 
 covered by the parent ; as the heat of the summer _is 
 sufficient to animate and strengthen them, and they are 
 ‘capable of providing for themselves from the first mo- 
 ment of their birth, provided they are in a suitable place, 
 and have food within their reach. Fish and amphibi- 
 ous animals cannot distinguish their own young from 
 others of the same species, and yet nature teaches them 
 the best means of providing for the chief wants of new 
 generations. Fish come in shoals to deposit their eggs 
 near the shore, where the water, being shaliow, is easily 
 warmed by the sun, where they may be more easily 
 hatched, and afterwards find a supply of food. Amphi- 
 bious animals leave the water to lay their eggs in the 
 sand, where they may be exposed to the heat of the 
 sun, as if they knew that their young would readily find 
 their true element, and the place where they are design- 
 ed to Jive and find nourishment. Gnats, and other in- 
 sects, which are born-in the water, but live either on 
 VOL il. H 
 
 ° 
 
86 AUGUST XVI. 
 
 the earth or in the air, always lay their eggs where # 
 life of their young is to begin. Insects which fly upe 
 the earth, and which, in general, require no food 
 themselves, still take care to deposit their eggs on 
 plants, fruit, flesh, and other substances, which serve 
 nourish their young. There are some which pursue 
 ther abimals, in order to lay their eggs in their ski 
 hair, mouth, or entrails. Some animals deposit the 
 eggs in nests which they have prepared, and stored wil 
 provision necessary for their young. 
 Other animals, which are helpless at their birth, are 
 consigned to the care of their parents. How anxiow 
 are the birds, even before they lay their eggs! With 
 what assiduity and patience they brood over their eggs 
 _ for several weeks, scarcely giving themselves time to e 
 “What care they take to warm their young, when the} 
 are hatched, and to give them proper food! What cou 
 rage they display in defending and securing them, a 
 the hazard of their own lives! Is it not also a very s 
 gular instinct in quadrupeds, which induces them to 
 with their teeth, the umbilical cord of their young, an 
 to do it with proper precautions, that they may not los 
 too much blood? With what tenderness and attentio 
 do they suckle them, and guard them from all danger 
 In general, the instinct of animals for the preservat 
 of their young, is stronger than the desire of satisfyin, 
 their own wants. They suffer hunger and thirst ; they 
 yefuse themselves sleep; they even expose their own 
 lives, rather than neglect their little ones. 
 In this instinct, which God has implanted in animals 
 we may observe the most admirable wisdom ; for thi 
 preservation of every species depends on the care of thi 
 parents. It is not wonderful that viviparous animal 
 should be fond of their young; because they are thei 
 -own flesh and blood. But that oviparous animals shoul 
 feel such solicitude for their eggs, is absolutely inexpl 
 cable. The eggs are entirely different in form from th 
 parents, and in every respect unlike any animal. Bé 
 sides, they are not visible when the birds begin to co 
 struct their nests, and when the insects seek plac 
 where their progeny may find subsistence. 
 Adorable Creator of the universe! who does not here 
 perceive and admire thy Almighty wisdom ? Who dai 
 not acknowledge thy goodness in watching over the p 
 
| ee ah 
 
 Several Sorts of extraordinary Rain. S7 
 
 * 
 ‘servation of the animal world; making it subservient to 
 ‘our wants and our gratifications? Open our eyes, that 
 |we may more clearly discover the wisdom which shines 
 ‘throughout all thy works! 
 
 (a | AUGUST XVIL 
 |= Several Sorts of extraordinary Rain. 
 
 ‘Every phenomenon, however natural and useful it may 
 be, is an object of terror and dismay to the ignorant and 
 superstitious. We see a proof of this in certain rains ° 
 | which credulous people consider as ominous of evil, and 
 ‘altogether supernatural. Who does not tremble, when 
 the hears of showers of blood? Sometimes, and partica- 
 larly in summer, there fallsa reddish rain, to which this 
 jname is given, or rather it is supposed that such a rain 
 thas fallen, when, after a common shower, some drops 
 itinged with a red colour are seen in the fields. Hence 
 lit has often been attributed to supernatural causes. In 
 ‘reality, however, there is nothing in it but what is very 
 natural: for the atmosphere being filled with different 
 ‘substances, and mixed with many foreign bodies, we 
 ineed not be surprised that rain should sometimes par- 
 take of this mixture. It may easily happen, that co- 
 ‘Joured particles may fall with the rain. The wind may 
 raise and scatter about the coloured meal of many 
 flowers, and even the red excrement of certain butter- 
 flies. There are also little red insects on the surface of 
 |the water, which credulous people may take for blood. 
 |Sometimes a certain viscous humour, produced by red- 
 \dish oleaginous particles which float in the air, falls with 
 ithe rain, as it happened in the year 1764 in Westphalia 
 and other places. But this is so far from being wonder- 
 ful, that it would, on the contrary, be extraordinary if 
 lthese phenomena did not cccasionally happen. 
 
 | It is the same in respect to the showers of brimstone, 
 ‘which have been said to fall frequently. It is certainly 
 possible, as the atmosphere is full of sulphureous parti- 
 cles, that some of these might mingle with the rain.— - 
 But it has been found, by many observations, that thése 
 rains are only flowers, or coloured seeds of plants, or 
 small sand and yellowish dust, which the wind raises 
 and brings from different countries, that mix with the 
 a The supposed aie of wheat are produced in - 
 ' ) 
 
 iz 
 - 
 
85 AUGUST XVIIT. 
 
 the same way. When heavy rain falls in places whe 
 much smail celandine grows, it uncovers the roots 
 ~ which are very slender. The little scallions which ad 
 here to them are then scattered about, and are suppose 
 to be wheat fallen from the clouds, which superstitiow 
 people believe to be a presage of scarcity and famine. 
 
 But whence come all those caterpillars with which t 
 gardens and fields are sometimes strewed after rain 
 fallen? Nothing can be more natural than this. 
 atmosphere containing numberless different sorts of sub 
 stances, it is very probable that insects and their egg 
 should mix in it. The latter only require a place t 
 hatch in; consequently, when they fall with- the rain 
 they stick to the leaves, and there come to life. Th 
 possibility of this is proved by the following fact, - 
 lated by writers of the utmost probity: “ The rair 
 which fall in Philadelphia during the month of Augus' 
 bring with them insects, which, when they adhere 
 men’s skins, and are not immediately taken off, bit 
 and cause violent itching. And if these little anima 
 happen to fall on woolen stuff, they fix in it, and-m 
 ply like moths.” Bi 
 
 We are not duly sensible of our obligation to natural 
 ists, for having, by their inquiries and remarks, remove 
 so many superstitious prejudices. It must, however, b 
 confessed, that the common people still retain many ¢ 
 them ; which shows, that men in general are more i 
 clined to error than to truth, and that they are not con 
 vinced, as they ought to be, of the wisdom and goos 
 ness of the Divine government. Let us not dishono 
 our own reason, and God himself, by such prejudices 
 Let the conviction that every thing is well ordered 
 nature, be a source of joy and consolation to us. Pagar 
 and infidels may be expected to cherish superstitiot 
 ideas; but let us, who have the happiness of knowing 
 the true God, glorify him by faith, honour him by con- 
 fiding in his goodness; and labour incessantly to dif 
 the blessings of reason, wisdom, and piety among ott 
 fellow-creatures. 
 
 AUGUST XVIII. 
 Sensitive Plants. 
 
 CERTAIN motions, observable in plants render it doubts 
 
/ Sensitive Plants. . 89 
 
 ful whether they are not possessed of sensibility. Some 
 yegetables shrink and contract their leaves upon being 
 touched ; others open and shut their flowers at certain 
 fixed hours, so regularly as to denote with precision the 
 time of day: some assume a peculiar form during the - 
 night, folding up their leaves: and these different 
 changes take place, whether they are exposed to the 
 air, or shut up in a close apartment. Those which live 
 under water, raise their heads above it in the time of — 
 fecundation. And the motions of a marshy plant dis- 
 covered some time since in the province of Carolina are 
 still more singular. Its round leaves are furnished a- 
 
 ‘boye and on the edges with a great number of notches, . 
 
 which are extremely irritable. When an insect happens 
 
 to creep upon the upper surface of the leaves, they fold 
 
 up, and inclose the insect till it dies; after which they = 
 open of themselves. Daily observation discovers regu- 
 Jar motions in certain garden plants. Tulips, for in- 
 
 ‘stance, expand in fine weather, but close at sun-set, or 
 
 during rain. Vegetables with pods, such as peas and 
 beans, open their shells when dry, and curl themselves 
 up like shavings of wood. Wild oats, when placed up- 
 on a table, will move spontaneously, particularly if they 
 have been warmed in the hand. And the sun-flower, , 
 and several other plants, always turn towards the sun. 
 
 ~From these incontestable facts, some persons conclude 
 that we cannot deny sensibility to be an attribute of — 
 plants, and it must be confessed, from the above obser- 
 vations, that some probability is attached to this opin- 
 ion. But, on the other hand, vegetables have no other - 
 sign of sensibility, and what they have appears to be 
 entirely mechanical. -— 
 
 We plant a shrub, and destroy it, without finding - 
 
 ‘any analogy between it ané an animal which we bring - 
 
 up and kill. We observe aplant bud, blossom, and 
 
 a 
 
 | bear seed, as the hand of a watch runs.over all the 
 
 points of the dial.. The most exact anatomy of a plant 
 does not discover any organ which has the least resem- 
 blance to the seat of animal sensibilkty. _When we op; - 
 
 pose these observations to those whence the sensibility. 
 
 of plants may be inferred, we remain in doubt, and - 
 know not how to-explain the above-mentioned pheno- - 
 mena. Perhapsall we observe in regard to the motions ; 
 
 of plants, .may only proceed from the construction of.’ 
 wD HS 
 
 0 
 
90 AUGUST XIX. 
 
 different fibres, which sometimes contract and some. 
 times expand. Perhaps the subtile exhalations of ou 
 bodies cause sensitive plants to shrink when we toucl 
 them. But it is also probable, that, as there are innv 
 merable gradations in nature, the first degree of sensa 
 ‘ tion may subsist in certain plants; as, indeed, the step 
 is very narrow between the sensitive plant and the mus 
 cle; sensibility may, therefore, extend even to plants 
 at least to those which approach nearest to the anim 
 kingdom. P 
 Upon this subject our knowledge is very imperfect, 
 and confined to simple conjecture ; for we can néithe 
 deny nor positively assert the sensibility of plants, with 
 any degree of certainty. Let us then rest satisfied with 
 ascribing to our Creator the glory that is his due, and b 
 persuaded, that, whatever be the principle of these phe 
 nomena, the plan he has formed in this respect, as i 
 all others, must be dictated by unbounded wisdom and 
 goodness. Though these things remain obscure an 
 problematical, we know enough to satisfy a reasonabl 
 curiosity. Let us, therefore, endeavour to apply t 
 knowledge we have, without losing time in speculation: 
 more curious than useful; and without being anxious te 
 obtain that information, which is perhaps reserved for 
 future and more enlightened ages. _~ 
 
 AUGUST: XIX.. 
 The Fear of Storms. _ 
 
 At atime when. nature presents to our eyes none. but 
 pleasing and delightful scenes, there are some peop: 
 who still complain and murmur. Summer, they say, 
 would indeed be delightful, . if storms did not so often 
 disturb the harmony of nature, and banish all joy from 
 our souls. The fear of storms and thunder is chiefl) 
 owing to the opinion of their being effects of the wrath 
 of Heaven, and ministers of its vengeance: for if, of 
 the contrary, we considered how much. they contribute 
 ta purify the air from noxious vapours, and to fertilize 
 the earth; if we would take proper precautions agains 
 the terrible effects of lightning; storms would cease 
 be so dreadful, and would rather inspire gratitude that 
 terror. But it may be said, that thunder-storms oftel 
 occasion great mischief. How frequently has lightnin 
 
The Fear of Storms. - OL 
 
 struck men and animals, and consumed whole towns 
 and villages? But to this we may reply, that here, as 
 in many-other cases, terror greatly magnifies the evil 
 and the danger. To show how little possibility there is 
 of being struck by lightning, it may suffice to state, that, 
 out of seven hundred and fifty thousand persons, who 
 died in the space of thirty years in London, only two 
 were killed by lightning. We may also observe, that, 
 during the greatest claps of thunder, many people pro- 
 long their fear without reason.. Whoever has time to 
 fear the natural consequences of lightning, is already 
 out of danger, for it is only the lightning which can be 
 fatal. When, therefore, we have seen and not been 
 touched by it, and when the thunder does not immedi- 
 ately accompany it, it is doubly foolish to turn pale, or 
 tremble at. hearing a clap, or to stop the ears for fear - 
 of a sound which is perfectly harmless as the report of a 
 cannon. The thunder tells us we have escaped the dan- 
 ger, and, at the same time, informs us at what distance 
 itis: for the greater space of time there is. between the 
 clap of thunder and the flash of lightning, the more dis- 
 tant is the storm. ' 
 
 The surest means of guarding against the fear of thun- 
 der, or any other alarming phenomenon of nature, is to 
 endeavour to acquire a good conscience. The good 
 man, calm and composed, fears not the judgments of 
 
 ~ Heaven. He knows, that, at God’s command, all na- 
 
 ture is armed against sinners; but that the righteous 
 
 are continually under the protection of the Most High. 
 
 “© He hears the thunder roar, but he trembles not. His 
 Creator, the God whom he adores, cornmands the storm, 
 and he knows when to terrify, and when to strike, He 
 sports with the tempests and storms. _ He makes use of 
 them to convince the infidel who dares doubt his exist- 
 ence, and to appal the souls.of the wicked. The friends 
 of Jehovah have no cause of alarm; on the contrary, it 
 is their privilege to trust in him, even when the terrific 
 
 ~ yoice of his thunder is heard; and atime will come, 
 » when, raised above the stormy regions, they shall walk 
 
 upon the clouds by the brightness of his lightning.” 
 Then shall they perceive that thunder itself is a bless- 
 ing ordained to purify the atmosphere; and then shall 
 they adore the Supreme Being, who, under the most 
 terrific appearances, condescends to supply the wants . 
 
_ gardens have disappeared, and those which remain se 
 
 92 AUGUST XX. 
 
 of the earth. With one hand he grasps the thut de 
 and -with the other he waters our fields; thus exhibit 
 ing himself at once as our Father and our Judge. 
 
 AUGUST XxX. 
 Summer presents us with Images of Death. 
 
 A Frew weeks ago our gardens exhibited the most pleas 
 ing scenes, where every thing inspired serene delight 
 but now the prospect becomes daily less agreeable an 
 less varied. Most of the flowers which then adorned ou 
 
 but to recal the transporting scenes which have now re 
 ceded from our view. These revolutions in nature a 
 very instructive. There is a time of life in which w 
 have all the charms of spring: we are then admired an 
 loved, and excellent fruit is expected from us. B 
 how often is this expectation disappointed! The blos 
 soms drop off even previous to their expansion: a fit ¢ 
 sickness robs us_of all our charms, and a premature 
 death puts an end to all hopes. -We observe the spring 
 flowers, which last till”’summer wither them in a few 
 hours—a striking emblem of death! Scarcely a day 
 passes in which we do not behold men snatched away 
 by sudden death, when they least expect it—one of 
 many means which God makes use of to draw us to 
 end. It is true, that, from habit, we become almost i 
 
 different to the deaths of so many of our fellow-creatures 
 but it is not less true, that “ the days of man are as the 
 grass of the field: in the morning it is green, and grow- 
 eth up, buf in the evening it is cut down, dried up, a 
 
 withered. 
 
 We are now in that season in which we endeavour 
 avoid the heat of the sun, and seek the cool shade 
 the sequestered grove. But are not such retreats c 
 culated to make us reflect on the silence and darkn 
 of the grave, where we expect to find rest, after the fi 
 tigue and heat of the day? 
 
 The reaper prepares to cut his corn, the sickle levels 
 the tall ears on the right and on the left, and leaves de- 
 sert and empty fields behind. This should remind us 
 of our own lot, for all flesh is as grass, and the whole 
 duration of this life, with all its glory, is but as the flow- 
 er of the field. Man flourishes for a short season, and 
 
 Pm 
 
Summer presents us with Images of Death. 93 
 
 | is cut down, when the Great Ruler of the harvest or- 
 dains it. The very bees proclaim this truth: when we 
 | reflect on the activity and industry with which they ga- 
 | ther and prepare their honey, we should learn to lay up 
 early treasures of wisdom and virtue, which may be a 
 | comfort to us in our old age, and in the hour of death. 
 | The husbandmen will soon unite in gathering the 
 | fruits of the earth, to lay them up in their barns. ‘Fhése 
 days of harvest are the most solemn and important of 
 the whole year. But, O God! what solemnity will be 
 attached to that great day in which the Creator himself 
 shall collect the harvest; when all the dead shall rise out 
 of their graves, and the Supreme Judge shall say to his 
 angels, ‘* Gather ye together first the tares, and bind 
 them in bundles, to burn them, but gather the wheat 
 into my barn!”? With what joy may the righteous an- 
 ticipate that day of harvest! ‘“ He that now goeth on 
 his way weeping, and beareth good seed, shail doubt- 
 Tess, come again with joy, and bring his sheaves with 
 him.” 
 These are not the only emblems of death which na- 
 ture furnishes, but they are the most striking. The 
 man who reflects upon them can only consider them as 
 pictures-of the brevity and frailty ef life; and there is. 
 no danger that such reflections.as these should disturb 
 the cheerfulness which is so natural to us in suramer. 
 Meditations on death are the best means of improying 
 this happy season, and rendering it still more agreeable. 
 When once we contemplate death in its. proper light, 
 far from considering it as an enemy of true pleasure, we 
 acknowledge that the idea of it ennobles and iricreases 
 our happiness. Should we run into imprudent excesses ~ 
 in these summer days, if the thought of death were pre- 
 sent to us?) Should we make an improper use of God’s 
 blessings, if we remembered the approach of that hour 
 in which we must give an account of our stewardship? 
 Would the blessings of this life corrupt and captivate 
 our hearts, if we seriously reflected on their fleeting 
 and uncertain nature? Would the burden we sustain 
 in the heat of the day, or the miseries to which we are 
 exposed, excite our murmurs, if we reflected that the 
 eyening would bring us refreshment and repose? Should 
 we place our chief happiness in the enjoyment of the 
 world and its pleasures, if we accustomed ourselves tg 
 
94 AUGUST XXI. 
 
 think, that purer, nobler, and eternal pleasures awai 
 us in another and a better world? ’ 
 
 AUGUST XXI. 
 Causes of the Heat of the Earth. 
 
 ‘One of the principal causes of the heat of our globe 
 the sun; and its position, in regard to a particular pat 
 increases or diminishes the warmth that is there fe 
 ‘When the sun is on the southern side of the earth, t 
 inhabitants of the north have not such.warm days ¢ 
 when he approaches the northern pole. The same thin 
 is observable in the southern parts of the earth, whe 
 the sun is turned towards the north. In climates whe: 
 the sun is almost vertical, the cold is never so inte 
 as to freeze the rivers or lakes, the heat being alwa 
 considerable in those regions. It becomes excessiy 
 when the sun continues long above the horizon, an 
 by that means darts its rays a considerable time on th 
 same place. This is the reason, that, towards the pole 
 where the days are very long, the heat is sometimes in- 
 tense in certain countries. When all this is considere 
 we must necéssarily conclude, that the sun, and its p 
 sitions with regard to the earth, form the chief cau: 
 of the heat in the open air. 2 
 This, however, is not the only cause; for if it were 
 all winters would be equally cold, and the temperat 
 of the air must be exactly the same in all countries si 
 tuated in the same climate. But neither of these is the 
 case. It is observed, that, on the highest mountains 
 where there are spacious plains, and on these plains o 
 ther hills and plains, it is still much colder than in le 
 Jands and deep valleys. Even under the line, if, fron 
 a plain where the heat is oppressive, we ascend a moun 
 tain 12,000 feet high, we shall feel the most piercing 
 cold. It has also been remarked in winter, that, whel 
 the cold has been severe during the day, it has sensibly 
 diminished towards midnight, and the weather became 
 temperate, though the rays of the sun did not then warr 
 the atmosphere. It is, therefore, certain, that there | 
 a heat in the air which is not immediately produced b 
 the sun. ; a 
 There are certain bodies, which by friction, or pe 
 cussion, grow warm, and emit sparks, The axletrees” 
 
ee 
 
 | . Variety of Plants. 95 
 
 of wheels take fie when the carriages go too fast, and 
 have not been properly greased. Other substances grow 
 warm, and enkindle, when they meet together. If a 
 certain quantity of water be poured ona truss of hay or 
 straw, it will occasion a considerable degree of warmth. 
 Bodies which corrupt or ferment, often require an in- 
 crease of temperature perceptible by the thermometer, 
 or merely by the touch. Even in the air, the motion 
 of certain substances may occasion mixtures, dissolu- 
 tions, and combinations, which produce a great degree 
 of heat. Thus we may account for the production of 
 heat in the open air.’ In the first place, the sun is the 
 priticipal cause of it: to the heat proceeding from this 
 luminary is united that of many living creatures; that 
 of fire produced by wood, coal, and other combustibles ; 
 and that which comes out of the bowels of the earth, 
 the bottom of the sea, and from warm mineral springs. 
 The heat is often much increased by the fermentations 
 which different bodies undergo, whether on the surface 
 of the earth, or in the upper regions of the atmosphere, 
 where they produce warm exhalations. When, there- 
 fore, the numerous particles which float in the lower 
 atmosphere, and which are capable of receiving and re- 
 taining heat, are not cooled, nor dispersed by wind and 
 rain, their heat gradually increases till it becomes in- 
 tense. On the contrary, it abates, when any of the a- 
 bove-mentioned causes cease to act. 
 
 _ All these plans are worthy of the wisdom and good- 
 ness of God; they are useful to all the habitable parts. 
 of the globe; and he has granted to each climate that 
 ‘degree of happiness of which it was susceptible. Bat 
 we who live under a temperate climate, most sensibly 
 experience the paternal care of our kind Creator. Heat 
 and cold are dispensed to us in the wisest proportion : 
 and we should be the most ungrateful of beings, were 
 we not to acknowledge and praise the goodness of God 
 towards us. 
 
 AUGUST XXII. 
 Variety of Plants. 
 
 Onr of the things particularly deserving our admiration 
 - . . .. 
 in the vegetable kingdom, is the great variety observ- 
 
96 . AUGUST XXII. - 
 
 able in plants, with respect to their parts, fructificatic 
 and properties. 
 
 The manner in which fractification is performed 
 many plants is very obscure. We know very little, 
 example, of its process in mosses, mushrooms, and fer, 
 Some plants exhibit singular monstrosities. We se 
 flowers which have no heads; and there are some fr 
 the centre of which other flowersspring. Certain pla 
 which are termed soporiferous, assume a different po: 
 tion at the approach of night, to what they had in # 
 course of the day; others turn towards the sun; al 
 some shrink and contract when we touch them. The 
 are flowers which open and shut at certain regular hou 
 and some shoot up, blossom, bear fruit, and drop th 
 leaves earlier than others. 
 
 All plants are originally wild, and once grew withor 
 culture; the Creator having assigned to them differe 
 climates adapted to their nature and properties, a 
 
 , where they might best come to perfection. But thoi 
 which are exotic may be naturalized with us,.and mai 
 to succeed very well, provided care be taken to procul 
 for them the degree of heat, suitable to their nature 
 
 What renders the contemplation of plants particular 
 ly interesting is their great diversity of form. | Let tl 
 most perfect species be compared with those that ai 
 least so, or let even the different species of the san 
 class be compared, and we cannot but admire the asto- 
 nishing variety of models from which nature works 
 the vegetable world. We step with wonder from th 
 truffle to the sensitive plant, from the mushroom to the 
 carnation, from the acorn to the lilac, from.the nostoch 
 to the rosebush, from the moss to the cherry-tree, from 
 the morel to the oak, from the misletoe to the orang 
 tree, and from the ivy to the fir. 
 
 If we consider the numerous tribes of mushrooms, ¢ 
 the different kinds of plants which are called imperfec 
 we cannot but admire the fertility of nature in the pre 
 duction of those vegetables, which are so different 
 form from others that we can scarcely rank them amor 
 plants. If we rise some degrees higher in the scale ¢ 
 plants, we behold with pleasure the degrees of thos 
 with stalks, from the grass which grows between the 
 stones, to that inestimable plant to which we owe out 
 principal food. We, in the next place, observe the va 
 
—- = 
 Reflections on the Animal Creation. OF 
 
 riety of creepers, from the tender bindweed to the 
 spreading and luxuriant vine. 
 
 What we can never sufficiently admire in the works 
 of nature is, that the most perfect harmony is blended 
 with this immense variety. All plants, from the hyssop 
 which grows on the wall, to the cedar of Lebanon, have 
 the same essential parts. A little herb is as complete 
 a plant as the most beautiful rosebush, and the rose as 
 the most lofty oak. All belong to the same source; all 
 follow the same general Jaws of growth, propagation, 
 and increase: and yet each species is distinct from the 
 others. Among so many thousands of plants, there is 
 
 “not one which does not possess its distinct characteris- 
 tics, properties, and mode of propagating itself. What 
 inexhaustible riches are discoverable in their colours, 
 
 forms, and proportions! 
 
 Those persons are peculiarly happy who are capable: 
 
 of observing this variety, and of appreciating the dif- 
 ferent beauties of the vegetable kingdom. What plea- 
 sure may the mind experience in such a study! After 
 having once enjoyed it, we find so many charms in it, 
 | that we could readily give up all other pursuits to de- 
 vote ourselves entirely to this. May our souls, enrap- 
 
 tured with such sweet contemplations, rise to thee, O 
 
 God, who art the Father of all-nature. Thy power, 
 
 which produced every plant; thy wisdom, which so well 
 planned them; thy goodness, which appears in the in- 
 finite variety of them; furnish us with continual cause 
 
 \to bless and glorify thy holy name. 
 
 ! AUGUST XXIII. 
 
 Reflections on the Animal Creatiov. 
 
 Tue animal kingdom may be considered as a well-go< 
 
 verned state, in which a proper number of inhabitants 
 are found in their respective and allotted situations. All 
 have faculties necessary for the performance of their du- 
 ties, and rewards and punishments to excite them to ac- 
 tion; with a sufficient protection against their different 
 enemies. Those which are small and feeble are obliged 
 to submit to the strong and powerful; and all are under 
 subjection to man, as the representative of the Deity. 
 “The inhabitants of the animal kingdom find, in all 
 arts of the globe, a sufficiency of food and employment. 
 (VOL, Il. 
 
*wT w=) = 
 
 98 AUGUST XXIII. 
 
 They are accordingly dispersed in every direction; and 
 their nature, organs, and constitutions, are apted te 
 the different situations assigned them. Their empl 
 ments are various, but all tend either to increase th iI 
 species, to maintain an equal balance between the ani- 
 mal and the vegetable kingdom, to provide proper food 
 or to defend them from their enemies. All the parts of 
 their bodies are adapted to their nature and function 
 The Creator has given them certain instincts, whic! 
 compensate for their want of reason; and these are d : 
 versified in a thousand ways, according to their vario 
 necessities. Hence we discover in them instincts fo 
 motion; instincts to enable them to discover, seize, an 
 prepare their food ; instincts to construct nests, and o- 
 ther necessary places of abode; and instincts te pro: 
 agate their species, and to defend themselves fron 
 anger. 
 In each class of animals there are some that live or 
 prey, and on the individuals which superabound in o- 
 ther classes. Each species has its particular enemies, 
 which keep up the proper balance, and prevent am 
 from multiplying too fast. Animals that are weak, 
 have some defect, are commonly the first which fall 
 prey to others: and decayed careases are speedily de 
 voured; so that the earth is not incommoded by them 
 nor the air infected; but nature preserves its beauty 
 freshness, and purity. 3 
 Beasts of prey have a structure conformable to thei 
 mode of life. They are endowed with peculiar strength 
 agility, industry, and address. But, in order to pre 
 vent them from destroying whole species, they are co 
 fined within certain limits ; they do not multiply so fas 
 as other animals; and they often destroy one anothe 
 or their young become a prey to other creatures. Som 
 sleep during the winter, digest their food slowly, an 
 feed on the fruits of the earth, when they can procurt 
 no other aliment. Weaker animals are provided witl 
 defence, in proportion to their situations and the dan 
 gers to which they are exposed. Their natural wea 
 pons, their swiftness, their habitations, or their cur 
 ning, preserve them from destruction: and, by thes 
 means, ‘the proper balance is alweys preserved in th 
 number of every species in the brute creation. 
 Animals are, in some measure, obliged to perfe 
 
Diviston off the Earth. 99 
 
 the functions assigned them; because upon this their 
 comfort depends. They find their advantage in follow- 
 ing the laws prescribed by nature; and cannot trans- 
 gress them without subjecting themselves to various e- 
 vils. The class of mammadia, or animals which give 
 milk, are the largest, and, consequently, the least nu- 
 merous; but they fulfil very important offices. Birds 
 also have a variety of functions to perform: they eat.up 
 superfluous seeds, devour dead carcases, and diminish_ 
 the number of every sort of insects. Most amphibious 
 creatures prey on others. The smallest animals,are the 
 
 most numerous, and; in proportion, more voracious than 
 
 the larger. These manure many vegetables, and serve 
 for other useful purposes. : 
 
 All the admirable things we behold in the animal king- 
 dom tend to demonstrate the existence of a Being who 
 
 ssesses the highest degree of wisdom and knowledge. © 
 ‘Who but himself could have peopled this immense 
 globe with so many different species of living creatures, 
 providing for them every thing necessary? Who but 
 God could have nourished such multitudes of animals, 
 according to their different tastes ; provided them with 
 coverings, weapons, and habitations; and given to all 
 6 Many Instincts and capactiics? Who but he could 
 have preserved the balance between so many different: 
 species and classes of animals? Who but Jehovah could 
 have assigned to all living creatures their appropriate a- 
 liments: or formed, joined, and articulated their limbs, 
 bones, muscles, and nerves, with such perfection of har- 
 ‘mony, that each animal can perform its several motions 
 in a manner the most convenient and best adapted to 
 its way of life and the different situations in which it is 
 found. , 
 
 © Lord God Almighty! it is thou only who couldst - 
 do'such things, and to thee all glory, praise, and thanks- 
 ‘giving are continually due, 
 
 AUGUST XXIV. 
 Division of the Earth.. 
 
 ‘Att the known world is divided into four principal 
 
 ‘parts; Europe, Asia, Africa, and America. 
 
 Of these divisions Europe is the smallest; extending 
 
 only 3300 miles in length, from east to west, and about. 
 
 1,2 
 
100 AUGUST XXIV. 
 
 2350 in breadth, from north to south. Its inhabitants 
 however, possess many countries in the other quarters 
 and have nearly one half of the globe under their s 
 jection. ‘Ihe Europeans trayerse every part of the 
 earth, and bring home the produce of every clime—= 
 They are also the most enlightened of mankind, ar 
 cultivate the arts and sciences with the greatest su 
 cess. Europe is the only part of the globe that is ever 
 where cultivated and covered with towns and village 
 the only place where the inhabitants keep up a constar 
 intercourse, and profess nearly the same religion. 
 other quarters are inhabited by a multitude of differet 
 nations, who have little connexion together, who scare 
 ly know each other, and differ as much in their manne 
 as in their religion and mode of living. ; } 
 Asia is inferior in size to America. Its suppose 
 length from the straits of Gallipoli, in the west, to # 
 eastern shore of Tartary, is 4800 miles; and its bread 
 from the southern extremity of Malacca to the frozen 
 ocean is nearly 4500 miles. As the countries situate 
 in the interior of the continent are not refreshed by the 
 cooling sea breeze, nor watered by many rivers, as they 
 contain vast plains and. barren mountains; the heat and 
 cold are both intense, and the earth, possessing little 
 fertility, is seldom cultivated. _ Even at the prese 
 time, those countries are only inhabited by people w 
 in the morning pull down their towns and villages, to 
 carry them some miles farther, and build them up aga 
 at night inan hour. It seems as if nature had made t 
 wandering and unsettled life necessary; and intendet 
 that the establishment, laws, and government of these 
 people should be less durable and more subject to chan; 
 than elsewhere. The other inhabitants of Asia ofte 
 suffer from the restless and unquiet character of the 
 wandering tribes. The northern part, which aboun¢ 
 with lakes, marshes, and forests, has never been reg 
 larly inhabited; but the southern, eastern, and westef 
 parts are the finest countries in the world, and are wot 
 derfully fertile, producing the necessaries of life in greé 
 abundance. 
 Africa is a peninsula of very great extent; being a 
 bout 4300 miles in length from Cape Bona to the Capt 
 ef Good Hope; and 3500 in-breadth from Cape Ve 
 _ to. Cape Guardafin, It lies under the torrid zone, @ 
 
 3 
 
The Nature and Properties of Light. 101 
 
 ontains immense sandy deserts, mountains of prodigi- 
 ous height, forests almost burnt up, and monsters of e- 
 very description. The oppressive heat enervates and 
 weakens every faculty of the soul. The interior, not-- 
 withstanding its comparative contiguity to Europe, is 
 as yet but iittle known; and very few well-regulated 
 states have been discovered. 
 
 America, which was discovered by the Europeans in» 
 the fifteenth century, is the largest division of the known 
 world, extending nearly 9000 miles in length, and 4400 
 in breadth. It is divided into two continents, separated 
 only by a very narrow isthmus, or neck of land, and 
 surrounded by a number of islands. The cold climate 
 of the northern part, its few productions, and its di- 
 stance from inhabited countries, prevent its being en-- 
 tirely known as yet; but we have reason to believe that 
 the’ natives are uncivilized. Forests and marshes still. 
 cover the land, and, hitherto, the Europeans have only 
 cultivated the eastern coasts. ‘ In the south of America: 
 there were formerly great empires: the remainder was 
 inhabited by savages. Serpents, reptiles, and_insects 
 are much larger here than in Europe. It may be said, 
 on the whole, that America is the most extensive and 
 the least populous part of the world. 
 
 If we reckon the number of leagues these four parts 
 of the world occupy, their size will appear very consi- 
 derable: yet all the known countries make but a fourth 
 part of the globe. And what is our earth in compari- 
 son with those immense bodies which God has plaged in 
 the firmament! It is lost in the innumerable multitude- 
 of celestial spheres, like a grain of sand in a stupendous 
 mountain. ‘fo us, however, in whose eyes a cubit ap- 
 pears considerable, the terrestrial globe is still a great 
 scene of the wonders of God. And, as we know but 
 little of the worlds above us, let us at least endeavour 
 to know that which we inhabit, and to consecrate that 
 
 Knowledge to the glory of God. 
 
 ‘ AUGUST XXV. 
 The Nature and Properties of Light. 
 
 THOUGH we every moment experience the utility of 
 
 light, we cannot, with certainty, decide its nature. All 
 
 that has becn said on the su'yject is conjecture. Pere. 
 Ps 
 
102 AUGUST oXX¥V.. 
 
 haps light is a fluid substance, by which we are s 
 
 rounded, and which only may require, in order to 5 
 perceptible, the being put in motion by the sun, or soi 
 other inflamed body; or, perhaps, it is fire itself, whi¢ 
 by the emanation of its infinitely subtile particles, gen 
 strikes our eyes at a certain distance. ‘The first of th 
 hypotheses has been adopted by the most eminent p 
 losophers. It is certain, at least, that there is a gre 
 difference between fire and light. The latter is beya 
 all comparison more subtile than the former :, it pen 
 trates glass, and other transparent bodies, in a momer 
 whereas fire does it very slowly. The pores of gla 
 
 consequently, must be large enough for the light to pa 
 
 fire moves much slower than light.- If burning coals. 
 put into a room, the heat will diffuse itself but slow 
 and the air will only grow warm by degrees; but, | 
 soon as a lighted candle is brought into an apartme! 
 the whole is suddenly illuminated. From these 
 some other facts, we may conclude that fire and lig 
 are different substances, though generally seen to a 
 company each othe:. cl 
 The properties and effects of light are not less incon 
 prehensible than its nature. If its velocity. were n 
 greater than that of sound, it would take up sevente 
 years to come from the sun to us, but it only requir 
 from seven to eight minutes to do so. In that shoi 
 time, a ray of the sun darts over many millions ¢ 
 leagues ; and in the short space of one second a partic 
 of light traverses an extent of a hundred and seven 
 thousand miles! Now as sound is propagated only 
 the rate of 1142 feet in a second, a particle of light m 
 be 786,000 times more subtile than a particle of air, al 
 though the latter cannot be perceived by the nak 
 eye, nor even with the best magnifying glasses. B 
 sides, the observations of astronomers inform us, that 
 the rays of a fixed star, in order to reach us, must tre 
 verse a space which a cannon-ball, shot with the grea 
 est force, could not pass over in less than 104,000 
 lions of'years. The extent or expansion of light is not 
 less inconyeivable. The space in which it spreads he 
 no bounds but the universe itself, the immensit 
 which excceds the limits of the human understanding 
 
| The Formation of Birds. 103 
 
 ft is by this astonishing diffusion of light, that the re- 
 motest of the bodies in the solar system becomes dis- 
 cernible either by the eye, or by the aid of telescopes ; 
 _and had we glasses of sufficient power, we should be 
 enabled to discover bodies in the most distant extremi- 
 ties of the universe. 
 
 It is certam that our understanding is too limited to 
 
 comprehend all the designs of Omnipotence relative to 
 the nature and properties of light; but by investigating 
 it attentively, we might obtain much information: upon 
 this interesting subject. Why, for example, does light 
 spread on all sides with such prodigious velocity, but 
 that an infinite number of objects may be seen at the 
 Same time by a vast number of people; and that distance 
 may not prevent their been seen? If the propagation 
 of the rays of light were slower, great inconveniences _ 
 must result to the inhabitants of our globe; the strength 
 and splendor of light would be considerably diminished ; 
 the rays would be less penetrating, and the dispersion 
 of darkness would be both tardy and difficult. Why are 
 the particles of light so wonderfully subtile, but that 
 they may paint even the most minute objects to the eye? 
 Why have not these particles more density, but that 
 they may not dazzle us_by their brightness, nor injure 
 us by their heat? And why are the rays so variously 
 refracted if not to enable us more easily to distinguish 
 objects ? : 
 
 Thus the Creator continually keeps in view the bene- 
 fit and happiness of his creatures. What gratitude do 
 we owe to the Father of Lights, for such beneficent 
 plans! Had he not created the light, how could we 
 have enjoyed our existence ?_ Of how many sources of 
 pleasure should we have been deprived! And within 
 what narrow limits would our knowledge and occupa-. 
 tions have been confined ! 
 
 AUGUST XXVI.. 
 The Formation of Birds. 
 Birps may, undoubtedly, be ranked among the most 
 beautiful creatures in the world. The form of their bo- 
 ‘dies, even in their smallest parts, is so regular and per- 
 
 fect, as at once to convince us of the wisdom of the 
 Creator. Like the mammalia, or animals which give 
 
 _ 
 ae 
 
104 AUGUST” “RXVL- 
 
 milk, they have real bones; but they are very differe 
 ly clothed: their bodies are covered with feathers, fa 
 tened to the skin, /aid over each other in regular ord 
 and furnished with a soft and warm down. The la 
 feathers are covered with smaller ones, and each eco 
 sists of a quill and beard. The quill is ‘hollow b 
 and thence the feather receives its nourishment: 
 wards the top it is full of a sort of marrow. The bear 
 are a range of little thin flakes, closely connected at t 
 two edges. Instead of having fore legs, like a quadr 
 ped, birds have wings composed of eleven bones, in’ 
 muscles of which the feathers intended for flight are’ 
 serted. These feathers, turned back, form a sort | 
 arch, strengthened still more by two rows of small 
 feathers, which cover. the root of the large ones. TI! 
 mechanism of the wings is truly admirable; they do n 
 strike behind, like the fins of a fish, but act perpent 
 cularly against the air, which is under them, and whic 
 greatly assists the flight of the bird. The wings 
 hollowed a little, in order to take im more air, and th 
 feathers are so closely united that the air cannot pa 
 through them. — 
 The body is suspended between the two wings in¢ 
 perfect balance, and in the manner best ada bbe, 1 
 motions it is to perform. The heads of birds are smal 
 that the weight may not retard the vibration of the 
 wings, and to be more proper to cut the air, and mah 
 their way through that element. The principal use ¢ 
 the tail is not to supply the place of a rudder, but t 
 preserve the balance in flying, and to assist the bird 
 rising or descending in the air. The legs are general 
 so placed as to keep the body in the centre of gravity 
 though in some birds they are so far back as to enable 
 them to swim. The thighs are covered with musele 
 and plumage; but the legs are thin and generally naked 
 Most birds have four toes; three of which are befor 
 and one behind. At the end of the toes they have nails 
 which they use either to assist'them to perch, seize theit 
 prey, or take up their food. Some birds feed on ani= 
 mals, others on plants, fruits, and grain. Those whict 
 live on seeds, steep and soften them in their crop; 
 whence there can pass but a small portion of food at 
 time into the stomach, because in this sort of bird it i 
 dut small, and composed of very strong muscles, by 
 
Reflections on the Shy. 105 
 
 means of which the food is so much the better bruised 
 and ground, as those birds generally swallow sand, and 
 little hard uneven stones, to assist digestion. Birds of 
 prey have much weaker stomachs; but they also have 
 recourse to stones to facilitate its functions. 
 _ The bodies of birds are formed, throughout the whole, 
 with such art and harmony, as to be perfectly adapted 
 to their way of life, and their different necessities. The 
 stork and the heron, which must seek their food chiefly 
 in marshes, have long bills, and very long legs, that 
 they may run into the water without wetting themselves, 
 and reach far in to seize their prey. The vulture and 
 eagle, which live only by rapine, are provided with large 
 wings, strong claws, and sharp bills, which are necessa- 
 ry to preserve them from starving. The bill of the swal- 
 Jow is sma!l and pointed and the mouth large, which 
 enable her to catch a variety of insects in her flight. 
 The swan has a particular reservoir in its wind-pipe, 
 where it draws in air, while seeking food, with its head 
 and neck plunged under water. Several small birds 
 which fly and hop among thickets, have a membrane o- 
 ver their eyes, to defend them from injury. In a word, 
 the formation of each bird is wonderfully adapted to its 
 respective mode of life. Each species is perfect in its 
 \kind; and no limb is useless, superfluous, or deformed. 
 The wisdom observable in this will appear still more ex- 
 raordinary, if we consider that all the parts of birds are 
 not only appropriated to their different wants, but also 
 ‘concur to give them the most beautiful form. What a 
 ‘surprising diversity of construction, proportion, colour, 
 and voice, do we observe between the raven and the 
 ‘swallow, the partridge and the vulture, the wren and 
 the ostrich, the owl and the peacock, the crow and the 
 nightingale! All these birds are beautiful and regular 
 Fs their kind; but each has its peculiar beauty and re- 
 gularity. 
 
 Thus may the sight of birds become useful and edi- 
 fying to us, if we accustom ourselves to trace them up 
 to the God who created them. Happy for us, if we 
 jens this use of his creatures. What an agreeable em- 
 \ployment, what pure and celestial pleasures, may such 
 reflections afford ! 
 
106 AUGUST XXVII- 
 
 AUGUST XXVIIL. 
 Reflections on the Sky. 
 
 WE need only contemplate the sky to be struck 
 admiration at the sight of this magnificent work of 
 Creator. How beautiful is this azure canopy, | 
 cularly during the night, when spangled by thew 
 of stars, and illumined by the mild lustre of the m 
 Who can raise his eyes to this interesting spectacle w 
 out the sweetest emotion? But we discover still gr 
 er wonders, when, with the mind’s eye, we traverse | 
 immense space, and make it the subject of medite 
 Where are the bounds to this space? where its be 
 ning or its end? Innumerable spheres of a prodig 
 magnitude there rise above each other; and the h 
 mind that would attempt to follow them in, their rm 
 courses, must soon confess its weakness. A puree} 
 real air, infinitely subtile, fills that space, supports t 
 prodigious bodies, and traces for them the circ 
 which they continually revolve. There are neither p 
 nor pillars to support this immense vault ; it is not 
 pended or fastened to any thing; and yet it has supp 
 €¢ itself for thousands of years, and will continue 
 so for ever. , 
 How numerous and how stupendous are those ce 
 tial bedies with which the sky is filled! The magni 
 of the sun and of many of the planets moving round I 
 is vastly superior to that of eur earth. And who kni 
 but among the stars there may be many equal, if” 
 superior, in size, to the sun himself? Their prodigi 
 distance causes them to appear as brilliant points sp 
 ling m the sky; but, in reality, at are'so many $i 
 the immense circumference of which cannot be meas’ 
 red. With the naked eye we behold innumerable 
 lestial bodies when the absence of the sun in the n 
 permits us to see them shine. But how many more « 
 
 ble, that there are many out-ef the reach of our 
 glasses. We may venture to assert, that many tl 
 sands of suns and worlds roll in the firmament, and’ 
 our solar system is but the smallest part of that g 
 multitude which is ranged above us in such beaut 
 order. Toa contemplative mind, however, the sky pi 
 
Moral reflections on a Corn Field. 107 . 
 
 ents still greater wonders. These bodies are in a state 
 yf perpetual motion, which is subject to invariable laws. 
 Chey all turn on their own axes, and most of them also 
 evolve in immense circles, round other globes. One 
 articular path is appointed for each of them, whence 
 t mever deviates. They run their career with ‘a rapidi- 
 y that surpasses all imagination. They have a power 
 y Which they fly from the centre of their orbit, and yet 
 n equal force retains them within it- Though so many 
 housands of bodies roll in the same space, they never 
 trike against, or incommode each other. Those stars 
 hich appear to us confusedly spread in the firmament, 
 re, on the contrary, placed in the greatest order and 
 he most perfect harmony. For thousands of years they 
 ave risen and set regularly in the same manner; and 
 tronomers can foretel their position and their course 
 ith the utmost precision. What new subjects of ad- 
 iiration should we have if we were better acquainted 
 ith those innumerable globes! But we know little ex- 
 ept the system of which our earth makes a part, and of 
 hich the sun is in a manner the monarch. . 
 
 Who can look up and contemplate the sky, without’ 
 eing struck with astonishment at the idea of the great 
 seing who framed such magnificent works! Let our 
 dmiration lead us to humble ourselves before him, to 
 dore and glorify him. And when we reflect how poor 
 nd imperfect our homage is, let us comfort ourselves 
 vith the thought of that happy revolution we shall one 
 ay experience, when the nearer contemplation of: the 
 onders we now sce but obscurely, will make our hearts 
 yverfiow with gratitude and joy. 
 
 } 
 
 AUGUST XXVIII. 
 
 Moral reflections on a Corn Field. 
 
 nis field was lately exposed to great danger: impetu- 
 us winds whistled round it, and the storm often threa- 
 ned to beat down and destroy the wheat. But Pro- 
 idence has hitherto preserved it. It is thus that the 
 orms of affliction often threaten to overwhelm us. But 
 ese very tempests are necessary to overwhelm the mind 
 nd to root out the tares of vice. In the midst of trou- 
 le and sorrow, our knowledge, faith, and humility, in- 
 rease and strengthen. It is true, that, like the weak 
 
108 AUGUST XXVIII. 
 
 ear of corn, we sometimes bend, and are bowed do 
 to the ground; but the merciful hand of our Father su 
 ports and raises us up again. 7 
 Towards harvest-time the corn ripens fast; the de 
 the heat of the sun, and the rain, all combining to hai 
 en its maturity. Oh! may we daily ripen for heave 
 May al! the events of our lives lead to that salutary et 
 Whatever our situation may be here below; whet 
 the sun of prosperity shine upon us, or our sky be ov 
 cast by the clouds of adversity ; whether our days | 
 gloomy or serene, may all concur to increase our pie 
 and dispose us for eternity! 
 It is very remarkable, that those stalks which sup 
 the largest and fullest ears, differ considerably in heig 
 from those that are poor and thin, The latter stand. 
 -rect, and overlook the whole field; whereas the othe 
 bend under their own weight. Behold the emblem 
 two sorts of Christians! The vain and presumptuot 
 who have but little religion, set themselves above other 
 and look with contempt on the truly righteous. A foc 
 ish presumption blinds them, and causes them to desp 
 the means of salvation. Those, on the contrary, ¥ 
 are rich in virtue and good works, humbly bend dot 
 like the well-filled ears of corn. a 
 How many tares and weeds are mixed with the cort 
 Such is the situation of a Christian in this world.” The 
 is observable in him a mixture of good and bad qua 
 ties, and his corrupted nature, like the tares, often if 
 terrupts the progress of virtue. A field of corn is m 
 only the image of one individual, but also of the chu 
 in general. The profane and the wicked, often, by the 
 bad example, sow tares in a field where there ought 
 be nothing but good seed. The great Lord of the fie 
 permits the tares to remain for a season; he exercis 
 patience and forbearance; and it will not be till the tin 
 of harvest in the great day of retribution, that he wi 
 give free course to his justice. . 
 - Behold with what eagerness the country people rit 
 to gather the fruits of the earth! The sickle levels al 
 before them. Thus death sweeps all away, the hi 
 and the low, the saint and the sinner. But what a 
 those shouts. in the fields? They are exclamations 
 joy and gladness, at the sight of a plentiful harve 
 Let them be also shouts of praise and thanksgiving ft 
 
Shell-Fish. 109 
 
 the goodness of God, from whom proceeds every bless- 
 ing. But how joyful shall we be in the great day of har- 
 vest! With what ineffable sentiments will our hearts 
 overflow, when we shall meet in the blessed society of 
 angels! Then shall we gratefully recollect our past la- 
 pours and sufferings, the dangers and storms we had ex- 
 perienced, and we shall raise our voices, with one ac- 
 cord, to bless the beneficent Father who watched over 
 us. Let this pleasing hope support us in the time of 
 ‘rouble: let it comfort us in our sorrow, and teach us 
 
 -@ wait with patience for the day of harvest. 
 AUGUST XXIX. 
 Shell-Fish. 
 
 SuELL-FISH, or testaceous animals, are extremely nu- 
 merous. They live in houses of a substance more or 
 ‘ess calcareous, which may be considered as their bones. 
 There shells are either univalve, that is to say, in one 
 niece; or bivalve or multivalve, that is, of two or seve- 
 ‘al pieces. They form two large families: the muscle, 
 the shell of which is in several pieces, and the snail, 
 vhose shell is in one piece, and generally spiral. The 
 construction of the former is much more simple than 
 hat of the latter. Muscles have neither head, horns, 
 or jaws; there can only be distinguished in them a 
 vind-pipe, a mouth, and sometimes a sort of foot. Most 
 inails, on the contrary, have a head, horns, eyes, &c. 
 | Great variety is observable among shell-fish with re- 
 pect to their mode of generation. In some the sex may 
 be discovered; some are hermaphrodites, and others 
 leem to be of no sex. . Some are oviparous, others vi- 
 (iparous. They are born with their shells upon them; 
 nd, in proportion as they grow, the shell, the inner 
 artition of which is lined with a very fine membrane, 
 'rows also; not only in thickness, by layers or leaves 
 ine over another, but in circumference, as the circum- 
 lolutions, or spires, multiply more and more. The 
 hells are formed by a viscous liquid which exudes from 
 e animal, and which thickens and grows hard by de- 
 ees. But whether the shells grow by an exterior jux- 
 position, or by a common inward nourishment, has 
 t been absolutely determined. It is most probable, 
 wever, that it is by the former means. Most shell- 
 VOL Il. K 
 
110 AUGUST XXX. 
 
 fish live in water, and particularly in the sea: somes 
 times near the shore, and sometimes in the main ocean, 
 Some are carnivorous; others feed on plants. Some 
 stay at the bottom of the sea, or adhere to rocks, ami 
 remain motionless. Oysters, and other animals wi 
 hard shells, fasten themselves to different bodies, 
 means of a glutinous gritty liquor; and are often heap= 
 ed and fastened upon each other. This adhesion is vo 
 luntary in some shell-fish, which cling to any thing, ag 
 circumstances require; but it is involuntary in othe 
 which always remain immoveable on the rocks to whic! 
 they are fastened. ; 
 The knowledge we have of these animals is still very 
 imperfect. As they mostly live in the bottom of the 
 water, it is very difficult to make exact observations on 
 their formation, mode of life, food, propagation, and 
 motions: and at present only three or four classes ¢ 
 them are known: but it is extremely probable that hun 
 dreds of others might be diseovered, could we carry our 
 researches to the depths of the sea, and the bottom 
 rivers. Hitherto we have scarcely attended to any thing 
 but the beautiful forms and colours of the shells, while 
 the true construction and manner of life of the animals 
 that live in them, are still little known, and we are scarce= 
 ly acquainted with the purpose of their existence. But 
 even these, as far as we know of them, are subjects suf- 
 ficient to lead us to admire the infinite greatness of God 
 We every where find creatures which, each in its way, 
 bear the impression of the majesty of the Lord. To 
 convinced of this truth, we need only look into the ez 
 binets of shells that are collected, and there observ 
 the prodigious variety in their size, form, and colours. 
 Here the hand of God visibly shows itself: and every 
 thing’ convinces us, that all his designs are worthy of 
 his wisdom and goodness. 
 
 AUGUST 2Sas 
 On the Government of God. 
 
 O Gop, who, from his supreme height, could be an in- 
 different spectator of all the revolutions which take 
 place in this world, would not merit our homage. Hap 
 pily for us, the government of the Deity whom we a 
 dore takes in all his creatures. We every where find 
 
 td 
 
 he 
 
On the Government of God. 1li 
 
 the centre of his empire, but we no where see its limits. 
 All his works are continually before him. At one glance 
 he beholds the past, the present, and the future; and 
 comprehends all their combinations, relations, and de- 
 -pendencies. The least events, the most trifling circum- 
 stances, so far from escaping his notice, enter into the 
 plan which he has formed to accomplish his infinitely 
 wise and holy purposes; and these purposes unite and 
 combine to procure for his creatures the highest possi- 
 ble degree of happiness. God takes pleasure in his 
 works; he sees them with one glance, and rules them 
 by a single act of his will. His laws are dictated by 
 wisdom; and his commands are a source of joy and 
 happiness. : 
 _ God, by his providence, preserves every species of 
 creatures which he formed in the beginning of the world. 
 Animals die, but others come in their place: generations 
 of men pass away, and others succeed them. The Ru- 
 ler of the world makes use of inanimate creatures to pre- 
 ‘serve the living, and to render them happy. And final-' 
 Jy he makes them all subject to man, who alone is ca- 
 pable here of knowing his works, and of adoring him. 
 This God, who is holiness itself, wills that his ration- 
 al creatures should know and rejoice in the beauty of 
 holiness. By the continual proofs which he gives them 
 of bis love of righteousness, and his abhorrence of sin, 
 he speaks to their hearts, and unremittingly exhorts 
 them to walk in the paths of true virtue. To this end 
 he directs their actions, frustrates their designs when 
 they ars contrary t0 his merciful views, and offers them 
 the means of avoiding the read to iniquity. What infi- 
 nitely wise measures did he use to conduct the children 
 of Israel to the blessed ends he proposed! In vain-did 
 the idolatrous nations repeatedly conspire the destruc-- 
 tion of a people who marched under the immediate pro- 
 tection of their God, and professed a pure and holy re-- 
 ligion, which distinguished them from the blind and su- 
 perstitious heathen. 
 The God of our faith dwells in light inaccessible. 
 here is a depth of wisdom in his government. which 
 one but himself can fathom. Our understandings 
 re too weak to see through the whole of his plans, or 
 0 form a just idea of his views, before the event has 
 liscovered them. Our knowledge is too limited to pe- 
 
12 AUGUST! XXKI 
 
 netrate into the counsels of an infinitely wise Bei 
 to discover beforehand the motives of his dispensations. 
 The wicked man often sits among princes, whilst the 
 righteous is humbled in the dust. Villany triumpl 
 and integrity is oppressed. Fortune smiles upon 
 champion of iniquity, whilst the friend of religion ex. 
 periences disgrace and disappointment. And yet th 
 is a Providence. Yes; notwithstanding all these ap 
 rent disorders, the Lord is ever the tender Father of 
 his creatures ; their infinitely wise God, their just 2 
 equitable Ruler. He should be adored in all his 
 pensations, however impenetrable they may appea 
 us. His counsels are wonderful, and his plans surpi 
 our understanding; but they are always formed 
 executed with sovereign wisdom. All that happensi 
 this world, and at which we often wonder, tends to th 
 accomplishment of the most excellent designs. 
 load of affliction and misery under which we groan, m 
 possibly have the happiest effect on our future state, 
 This apparent evil may perhaps be a necessary medici 
 for the soul, and on this salutary correction, our faith 
 the purity of our hearts, and our eternal felicity, ma 
 in a certain measure depend. Whoever is discontente 
 with his lot, let him consider all these things, and } 
 will cease to murmur. Why, O man! dost thou un 
 dertake to fathom the plans on which God governs th 
 world? Thy understanding is limited, and yet thou p 
 tendest to discover the views which the Supreme Bei 
 proposes to himself. Thou canst not comprehend t 
 connexion of those things which pass under thy ima 
 diate notice: thou knowest not what has preceded, 0 
 what is to follow; and yet thou hast the presumptior 
 judge of causes and effects. Providence is just in all it 
 plans, and all its dispensations. It is true, that th 
 canst not always see the motives of the Creator’s ¢ 
 duct; but to be able to comprehend these, thou 
 be what God is. 
 
 AUGUST XXXI. 
 Harvest Hymn. 
 
 Our fields crowned with fruits and ears of corn, are 
 hymn to the Lord. The joy that sparkles in the eye 
 of the reaper, isa hymn to the God of nature, wh 
 
A Hymn of Praise to the Most High. 113 
 
 sauses bread to spring out of the earth, and who loads 
 1s with his blessings. Let us assemble and sing unto 
 wr God, and let his praise be the continual subject of 
 ur songs. Let us listen to the glad voice which rises 
 rom the bosom of our fields. ‘ The year shall crown 
 hee with its blessings, O world! whose happiness is 
 ay work. I have called forth the spring, and produced 
 he rich autumnal harvest; the fields by which thou art 
 upported, and the little hills covered with corn, are 
 vine? Yes, Lord, we behold thy greatness, and we 
 xe] the value of thy favours. It is through thee that we 
 xist ; life and food are the gifts of thy hands. Blessed 
 2 the fields that nourish man! Flourish ye beautiful 
 ,eadows! Be covered with thick foliage, ye magnifi- 
 ont forests. And thou, O God of nature, be ever be- 
 eficent towards us! Then, from morn to night, will 
 xe Lord be the object of our praise, Tree from cares, 
 e will rejoice in his blessings ; and our children shall 
 ypeat after us:. “ The God of heaven is our Father ; 
 te Lord, the Almighty Jehovah, is our God.” 
 
 A’ Hymn of Praise to the Most’ High. 
 
 tye with holy rapture unto the God of Heaven. Sing 
 | mew song unto the Lord of Hosts, Let us continual- 
 | 1 celebrate the praises of this Being, who is infinitely 
 ise, infinitely good, and from whose piercing discern- 
 | ient nothing can be concealed. 
 
 He has stretched out the starry firmament, as a pa- 
 | lion over our heads.. There, surrounded by the radi- 
 ace of innumerable suns, he has established his throne; 
 | tere he dwells in light inaccessible to mortals. 
 Almighty God, | am lost in this splerdor—this blaze 
 | ¢ dazzling glory::but thou, in thy infinite goodness, 
 2 to be found every where, and art incessantly present 
 vth all thy creatures. Amazed at the wisdom of thy 
 povidence, and penetrated with grateful admiration, I 
 puse and magnify thy sacred name. ; 
 
 Thou governest the earth with more than a father’s 
 ce, thou enlightenest it by the sun, waterest it by 
 Spwers, and refreshest it by dews.. At thy command 
 | its clothed with smiling verdure, crowned with flowers, , 
 | aki enriched. with luxuriant crops: and every yearr 
 
 K.3 
 
114 SEPTEMBER Tf. 
 
 brings forward a renewal of its ornaments and its bless 
 ings. ‘ 
 
 Thy care extends to every thing that exists, and the 
 minutest creature is an object of thy merciful attention 
 The young raven which, covered with snow, cries to 
 thee from the summit-of a barren rock, is fed by thy 
 hand. : 
 
 In obedience to thy sacred mandate, the coolin 
 stream laves the bosom of the steri]l mountain ; the sui 
 invigorates the spreading vine, and ripens the fruit | 
 our orchards ; and the refreshing zephyr plays amidst 
 the foliage of the shady grove. 
 
 When thou causest the sun to illumine the landscape 
 by his cheering beams, he calls forth the creatures to 
 their respective employments, and all is active in nature 
 till the gloom and silence of night bring on the desired 
 repose. But as soon as the morning again breaks for 
 the choirs of birds pour forth their dulcet songs of grate 
 ful joy; all the nations of the earth, and-all the zones 
 under heaven, unite in a concert of praise. 
 
 Father of all beings! thou lovest all, thou crownest 
 all with blessings, and offerest happiness to all men who 
 desire to be happy. May thy name be celebrated in all 
 the worlds which compose thy empire! May. every 
 voice unite in an universal song to that God whose wis- 
 dom is infinite, and whose goodness is unlimited ! 
 
 SEPTEMBER I. 
 The Omnipresence. of God. 
 
 THou art present every where, O Almighty God !- 
 Thou art near; thou art afar off; thou fillest the whole 
 universe. Here.grows. a flower, there shines a sun.— 
 Thou art in the wind, and in the tempest; in the light, 
 and in darkness ; in an atom, and in a world. Thou art 
 present upon this flowery vale. Thou hearest my wea 
 voice, as thou hearest, at the foot of thy throne, 
 sublimest songs which accompany the seraph’s lyre. © 
 thou, who art the God of the seraphim ! thou art als 
 my God: Thou hearest us both: thou hearest also t 
 eprightly notes of the lark, and the hum of the you 
 bee that flutters round the opening rose. Omnipresent 
 Being! if thou hearest me, vouchsafe. to grant my Te- 
 quest. May I never forget that I am in thy sight ; but, 
 
 : 
 4 
 4 
 
The Beauty and Variety of Butterflies. IWS 
 
 _ on the contrary, may | ever think and act as in thy im- 
 
 mediate presence ; that when sun‘moned with the whole 
 
 _ world of spirits before the tribunal of my Judge, I may 
 _ not be obliged to flee from the presence of the Holy of 
 - Holies.. 
 
 SEPTEMBER II. 
 The beauty and variety of Butterflies. 
 
 ‘Ler us examine these beautiful creatures whilst they 
 
 yet enjoy their transitory existence: our observations 
 may probably be equally interesting to the understand- 
 
 _ ing and to the heart. 
 
 The first thing that excites our attention on behold-. 
 
 ing these inhabitants of the air, is the clothing with 
 
 which they are adorned. Some of them, however, have 
 
 _ nothing striking in this respect: their dress is plain and’ 
 | simple. Others have a few ornaments on their wings: 
 | but some have such a profusion, that they are complete- 
 
 ly covered with them. Let us reflect for a few moments 
 on this last species.. How beautifully are the shades 
 variegated! How pretty the spots which set. off the o- 
 ther part of their dress! With what delicacy has na-- 
 ture pencilled them! But, however great our admira- 
 tion in seeing this insect with-the naked eye, it will be 
 greatly increased when we examine the beautiful object 
 through a microscope. 
 
 Would any one ever have imagined, that the wings 
 of butterflies were covered with plumage? Nothing, 
 however, is more certain, What is commonly called 
 dust, is found in reality to be feathers ; and their struc- 
 ture and arrangement are as strikingly symmetrical as 
 their colours are soft and brilliant. The parts which 
 form the centre of these little feathers, and are next to- 
 the wing, are the strongest: those, on the contrary, 
 which form the exterior circumference, are much mere 
 delicate, and of an extraordinary fineness. Each of 
 these feathers has a quill at the base, but the superior 
 partis more transparent than the quill from which it 
 proceeds. If the wing be touched roughly, the most 
 delicate part of the feathers is destroyed ; but if all the 
 dust, as it is termed, be wiped away, nothing remains 
 but a fine transparent skin, exhibiting the numerous 
 
 . 
 
 little orifices in which the quills of the feathers were in-- 
 
116 SEPTEMBER Il. y 
 
 serted. This skin, from the nature of its texture, may 
 be as easily distinguished from the rest of the wing, as 
 a fine lace from the linen on which it was fastened; i 
 is more porous, more delicate, and seems as if embroi 
 ered with a needle. Lastly, it is edged with a frin 
 the threads of which are extremely fine, and succee 
 each other in the most regular order. i 
 What are our most elegant dresses in compariso 
 with that which nature has given to this insect? O 
 . finest laces are but coarse cloth, when compared to th 
 delicate texture of the butterfly’s wing; and our fine 
 thread swells into hempen cord: such is the extrem 
 difference observable in nature and art, when see 
 through a microscope. The former are finished in the 
 utmost imaginable perfection: the latter, even the most 
 beautiful of their kind, have no proper finish, and are 
 coarsely made up, How very delicate does a fine cam=— 
 bric appear to us! Nothing more delicate than the — 
 threads, nothing more regular than the weaving ; and 
 yet, when viewed through a microscope, these fine — 
 threads resemble hempen strings ; and we might rather 
 be temped to suppose that they had been interlaced by — 
 the hand of a basket maker, than wrought in the loom — 
 of a skilful weaver. a 
 It is peculiarly worthy of remark, that this brilliant 
 insect proceeds from a worm of the most vile and abject — 
 appearance. Yet how beautiful is it now! and how — 
 much has it changed since the time when it grovelled 
 in the dust, in continual danger of being trodden to ~ 
 death! See how it displays its sparkling wings, how ict 
 sports in the sun-beams, rejoicing in its existence, and) 
 fluttering from flower to flower! Who raised this crea- 
 ture above the earth? Who gave it the faculty of in- 
 habiting the ethereal regions? Or whe painted its — 
 wings with all the rich colours of the rainbow? It was — 
 the omnipotent God, its author and ours, In this ex- 
 traordinary insect he has shown us an emblem of the 
 transformation which awaits the righteous. A day will 
 come, when, quitting this present form, they shall cease 
 to grovel on the earth: when, holy and perfect, they 
 shall be raised above the clouds; and, haying nothing 
 to obstruct their flight, they shall soar triumphantly be=. 
 yond the stars. } 
 
 a ee Pcp oe tes gel 
 
The Growth of Trees. 117 
 
 SEPTEMBER IIL. 
 The growth of Trees. 
 
 Every tree, however luxuriant in branches and foliage, 
 derives its principal nutriment from the bottom or root: 
 and there is reason to believe that there is a circulation 
 of juices in it, like that of the blood in animals. The 
 exterior parts of the root are a prodigious mass of 
 spungy fibres and globules of air, which are always o- 
 pen, in order to be filled with the juice they receive 
 from the earth: This juice is at first nothing but water, | 
 loaded with earthly matter ; then, by means of a sort of 
 milky substance, which is peculiar to each tree, and 
 distinguishes it from any other, the juice acquires a nu- 
 tritive quality before it rises to the parts of the tree’ 
 which are above the surface of the ground. It is found 
 by the microscope, that wood, notwithstanding its hard- 
 ‘ness, is nothing more than a collection of an infinite 
 number of little hollow fibres. Most of them, particu- 
 larly in shrubs, rise perpendicularly; but, in order ta 
 give more consistency to these fibres, there are in cer- 
 tain trees, especially such as are designed to be strong 
 and hard, stalks which extend horizontally from the cir- 
 cumférence of the centre. Drawn by the heat of the 
 sun, the juice gradually rises into the branches and into 
 all their external parts, as the blood which flows out of 
 ‘the heart is conveyed through the arteries to the ex- 
 _tremities of the animal body. When the juice has been 
 sufficiently diffused through all the parts where it was 
 |mecessary, what remains ascends by certain large ves- 
 sels, placed between the outward and inner bark, in the 
 ‘same manner as the blood. returns back through the 
 veins. From this results a growth which renews every 
 /year, and causes the tree to grow thick. To be con- 
 'vinced of this, we need only cut a branch across to as- 
 -certain the age of the tree. Whilst the stem grows 
 higher and higher, the root at bottom increases in the 
 ‘same proportion. As for the outer bark, it seems in- 
 ‘tended to serve in some measure as a sort of coat for 
 the tree, to unite the component parts closely together; 
 and to preserve the tender, though essential parts from 
 \dedidertts, and from the intemperature of the air. 
 ft is thus that the wise Creator has formed an admis 
 
 eS 
 
118 SEPTEMBER iV. 
 
 rable system of solids and fluids, in order to give life 
 and growth to the trees which adorn the country; which 
 give shade to our flocks, our shepherds, and hamlets 
 and which, when cut down, serve so many purposes 
 useful to mankind, Here we discover a wisdom whi: 
 is never mistaken, which prescribes to nature laws in 
 some respects immutable, and which act without inte 
 ‘ruption under the eye of Providence. A wisdom §0 
 profound, an art so wonderful, so many preparatives an 
 combinations for each tree, ought to lead us to rev 
 and admire more and more the creative hand, T 
 contemplation of such wisdom is a noble study; ai 
 should animate us to glorify God, so great in his coun 
 sels and plans, and so wonderful in their execution. 
 The more we discover the traces of Divine Providence, 
 the more should we be induced to commit all our coi 
 cerns unto Him who can never want means to turn e- 
 very thing to the advantage of his creatures, Finally, 
 we should be encouraged to raise our affections towar 
 him, and to supplicate him to enrich our souls with the 
 gift of wisdom, and to make them grow in grace. 
 In our progress through life may we resemble 
 flourishing tree. As this from year to year puts fo 
 new shoots toward heaven, and extends around it fres 
 branches laden with verdant foliage and nutritious fru 
 may we incessantly grow up in all righteousness, and 
 bring forth fruit acceptable to God, and suitable to tlie 
 capacity which he has given us. May our souls be 
 strengthened in holiness, esteblished against all the 
 storms of life, and deeply rooted in humility! Ant 
 when approaching the limits of our present existence, 
 may we never find the emblem of our state in an old 
 tree, which, in proportion to its age, always attaches its 
 self more strongly to the earth. 
 
 SEPTEMBER IV. 
 The Ant-Lion. 
 
 No insect is more famous for its dexterity than the a 
 lion, although its form promises nothing extraordinar 
 nearly resembling that of the woodlouse. It has six fe 
 and its body, which is composed of several membran 
 rings, terminates in a point. Its flat square ‘head 
 armed with two moyeable hooked horns, the sing 
 
The Ant-Lion. 119 
 
 sonstruction of which shows how admirable nature is, 
 sven in her smallest works. 
 
 This insect is the most cunning and dangerous ene- 
 ny the ant has; and the plans which he forms to catch 
 is prey ave truly ingenious. He undermines a piece 
 of ground in the shape of a funnel, and waits at the bot- 
 ‘om to draw down any ants which may chance to come 
 o the brink of this precipice. The method of digging 
 t is, first, to trace a circular ridge in the sand, exactly 
 he size of the funnel, the diameter of which is always 
 qtial to the depth he chooses to make it: when he has 
 ixed on the size of this opening, and traced the first 
 ‘idge, he immediately digs a second, concentric to the 
 ther, in order to throw out all the sand enclosed in the 
 irst circle. All these operations he performs with his 
 read, which serves instead of a shovel; its flat and 
 square shape rendering it exactly fit for the purpose. 
 He also takes up sand with one of his fore feet, and 
 throws it over the first ridge, and this he repeats till he 
 las got to a certain depth in the sand. When, in dig- 
 zing, he meets with grains of sand larger than usual, or 
 with little bits of dry earth, which he will not suffer to 
 remain in his funnel, he gets rid of them bya quick and 
 well-timed motion of his head. If he find still larger 
 
 ieces, he endeavours to push them away with his back; 
 
 nd he is so earnest in his labour, that he repeats it six 
 r seven times. , 
 At last the ant-lion comes to enjoy the fruit of his. 
 oils. His traps being properly prepared, he puts him- 
 self on the watch, and, concealed at the bottom of the 
 itch which he has dug, he patiently waits for the prey 
 which he cannot pursue. If an ant approach the brink 
 of the precipice, she seldom fails of falling to the bot- 
 com, because the edge is sloping, and the loose sand, 
 which gives way under her feet, draws down the insect 
 {nto the power of the enemy, who drags her with his 
 horns under the sand, and feasts upon her blood. When 
 he has sucked all the juices from her body, he throws 
 the dry carcase out of his habitation, repairs any dam- 
 hge his trench may have sustained, and puts himself in 
 ambush as before. He does not always succeed in catch- 
 ing his prey the moment it falls. 1t often escapes him, 
 nd endeavours to run up again to the top; but then the 
 t-lion works with his head, and causes a shower of 
 
120 SEPTEMBER V. 
 
 sand to descend upon the ant, which drives her dow 
 again into the hole. 
 All the actions of this little animal exhibit such wor 
 derful art, that we might repeatedly examine them with 
 out being wearied. The ant-lion employs himself ij 
 preparing his trench, before he has even seen the inse 
 destined to become his food, and yet his actions are s 
 regulated, that they prove the surest means of provic 
 ing for his subsistence. How could such an inactiy 
 creature as this catch his prey so well as by digging it 
 loose sand, and giving a sloping form to the hole h 
 makes, and then covering with a shower of sand the i 
 sect which falls into it? All his actions have fixed prin 
 ciples by which he is directed. His ditch ought to by 
 - dug in the sand, or it would not be adapted for entrap 
 ping his prey. According to the make of his body hi 
 is obliged to work backwards, and to make use of hi 
 horns as tongs to throw up the sand to the edge of th 
 funnel. 
 The instinct which directs this insect, discovers to us 
 a First Cause, whose foresight knew and ordained all 
 that was necessary for the preservation and welfare ¢ 
 such ananimal. The dexterity which he exhibits is no 
 the effect of experience or practice! but was born witl 
 him. We must, therefore, seek its origin in that greg 
 Being who proportions the instinct of animals to the dif 
 ferent degrees of their wants. ‘ll 
 These reflections should lead us to the Creator of ¢ 
 things, the Source of life, who loves to diffuse it ever: 
 where. He has formed even this insect so as to make 
 its existence a blessing to itself; and by its instin 
 (however limited in some respects) he has endowed ij 
 with an ingenuity approaching to, and in some measuré 
 Surpassing, reason. His design in this has evidently 
 been to furnish us with opportunities of knowing him; 
 consequently, every insect, however insignificant, ought 
 to raise our thought to God who has created the worr 
 as well as the elephant, and who extends his cares e= 
 qually to both. 
 
 SEPTEMBER V. 
 Conformity between Plants and Animals: 
 
 Ir is more difficult than we imagine, to distinguish 
 
| 
 
 ies aaa 
 Conformity between Plants and Animals. 12% 
 
 specific difference between plants and animals. It is by 
 imperceptible degrees that nature descends from ani- 
 mate to inanimate beings, and it would require the pe- 
 netration of an archangel to distinguish these degrees 
 exactly. But we may remark, that with all the differ- 
 ences found between these two sorts of organized bodies 
 there still remains much resemblance. 
 
 The seed is to the plant, what the egg is to the animal. 
 From the former springs a stalk which had been con- 
 cealed under the coats of the seed; and this stalk makes 
 an effort to rise out of the ground. In like manner the 
 animal enclosed in the egg, pierces the shell in order 
 to breathe the open air, The eye or bud of the tree is, 
 in the vegetable kingdom, what the embéryo is to the a- 
 nimal. The eye does not pierce through the bark till it 
 has come to a certain size, and it remains attached to it, 
 in order to receive nourishment from it, as well as from 
 the fibres of the plant. The embryo at the expiration of 
 a certain time comes from the womb; but even then it 
 could not long subsist if it were not nourished by its 
 mother. The plant feeds on nutritive juices, which are 
 brought to it from without, and which passing through 
 different channels, at last change into its own substance. 
 The animal’s food has the same course and progress.— 
 Plants are multiplied not only by seed and by ingraft- 
 ing, but also by slips. It is the same with animals: 
 they multiply not only by laying eggs, or by bringing 
 their young alive into the world, but also by'slips, as we 
 observe in the polypus. The disorders or maladies of 
 plants have either external or internal causes, as is the 
 case with animals. Lastly, death is the common lot of 
 doth; when old age, having dried up and obstructed the 
 vessels, stops the circulation of the juices. Plants and 
 animals inhabit the same places. The surface and in- 
 terior of the earth, the air, the sea, and the rivers are 
 flied with them; and both are extremely numerous, 
 though animals rather than vegetables seem to bear the 
 preponderance. — 
 
 Thus one might be tempted to helieve, that animals 
 
 and plants were beings of the same class, since nature 
 | ippears to pass from one to the other by imperceptible 
 
 gradations. It is very certain that some genera! and 
 
 »ssential resemblances have been found in the two king-" 
 
 loms; but the truly characteristic differences have not 
 VOL. Il. i ; 
 
 - 
 
 ? 
 
122 ‘ SEPTEMBER VI. 
 
 hitherto been clearly ascertained. And though some 
 should be discovered which have not yet been observed, 
 it is still certain that nature varies her works by suel 
 nice shades that the human understanding can with dif 
 ficulty discern them. Who knows what discoveries m 
 be reserved for our posterity? Perhaps plants m 
 hereafter be known with properties still more like thos 
 of animal bodies; and perhaps animals may be found 
 out still nearer the class of vegetables than the polypus. 
 Let us make that use of these discoveries for whic! 
 all the truths of nature and revelation are designed; vi 
 to draw from them continual incitements to glorify Gat 
 and to strengthen our minds in virtues Let the grea 
 resemblance between plants and animals make us sensi- 
 ble of the power and wisdom of that Being, who has in” 
 some measure impressed a character of infinity on a 
 creatures. But, O man! learn also tobe humble. Thouw 
 partakest of the nature both of the plant and anima 
 And to the blessed Jesus thou art indebted for the pri- 
 vilege of being placed between brutes and angels. EB 
 deavour by a righteous life to resemble those celestia 
 spirits; and as it is granted thee to bear some resem: 
 biance to the Creator of all things, pray incessantly for 
 that grace which alone can fit thee for the kingdom ¢ 
 lory. 
 ‘ How wonderful is that creature who, like the brut 
 draws its nourishment from the earth, and yet, like 
 angel, raises his thoughts to heaven; a creature of which 
 one half perishes like the brute, while the other half live: 
 and is immortal; ordained to become holy and perfect; 
 to be free, and yet subject to God! “a 
 
 SEPTEMBER VI. — 
 The Nature and Properties of Sound. . 
 
 ALL sounds are produced by means of the air; but it 
 is necessary for this purpose that the air should be put 
 in motion. It is not that-every movement of the air oc- 
 casioens a sound; for, if this were the case, all wind must 
 be attenaed by a noise. To produce a sound, the ail 
 must be suddenly compressed ; and must dilate and ¢ 
 
 pand again by its elastic power. This occasions a kint 
 of trembling undulation, something like that of the 
 wayes and circles occasioned by throwing a stone inta 
 
1 oer 7 
 The Nature and Properties of Sound. 123 
 
 | the - But if this undulatory motion were only to 
 | be efiected by the particles of air being compressed, 
 _ the sound would never reach our ears. It is therefore 
 _ necessary that sonorous bodies, after making impression 
 _ on the contiguous air, should continue that impression 
 from particle to particle in a circular direction to all 
 
 _ By this means the particles of air reach our ear, and 
 
 we have a perception of sound. This progress is made 
 | with prodigious velocity. Sound travels a thousand feet 
 _ in a second of time, and consequently a German league 
 _ in twenty seconds. This calculation, which has been 
 by many experiments, may be useful in several 
 _ eases. The knowledge of it contributes to our security, 
 in teaching us how far thunder is distant from us, and 
 consequently apprising us of our safety or danger in the 
 place where we hear it roll. We need only count the 
 seconds, or the beating of each pulse between the flash 
 and the clap, to ascertain exactly the distance we are 
 from it. By the same means we may calculate the di- 
 stance of places, and that which separates two vessels. 
 | It is very remarkable that a weak sound propagates 
 _ itself with the same velocity as one that is much strong- 
 | er. The agitation of the air, however, is greater in pro- 
 | portion to the strength of the sound, because a larger 
 | mass of air is put into motion. The sound is therefore 
 | Joud when many particles of air are put in motion, and 
 
 weak when confined to a few. 
 ' But of what use would these philosophical ‘observa- 
 | tions be, if our bodies were not so formed as to afford 
 | us the perception of sounds? Let us therefore bless 
 _ God, not only for having disposed the air in such a man- 
 _ Mer as to produce sound by its vibration, but for giving 
 _ us organs capable of receiving sonorous impressions. 
 A thin elastic membrane stretched at the bottom of the 
 | ear, like the skin over a drum, receives the vibration of 
 » the air; and by that means we have the power of dis- 
 | tinguishing all sorts of sounds. Thus far our knowledge 
 | reaches. But if we inquire how it is, that when we pro- 
 ) nounce a word, it creates in us the idea of a word, and 
 Not a mere sound, or how a tone can act upon our souls, 
 | and produce so many different sensations, we are obli- 
 
 . 
 
 to acknowledge our ignorance. it is enough for 
 us to be convinced by this, as by every thing else,. of 
 { L 2. 
 f 
 | 
 
124 SEPTEMBER VII. 
 
 the wisdom and goodness of our Creator. If there ¥ 
 no sounds, all mankind would be dumb, and we shoi 
 be as ignorant as a child before it can speak; but 
 means of sounds, every creature can express its wi 
 and its enjoyments. Man has, in this respect, great 
 vantages: he can express the sentiments of his heatt, 
 and even excite the passions, by certain tones of fils 
 voice. God has not only conferred upon us the facu 
 of distinguishing sounds by the organ of hearing, | 
 he has also furnished us with other means of preservi 
 this blessing: if one ear should be hurt, the other m 
 do its office; and a man whose hearing is imperfeet, 
 may make use of a trumpet; even when the externa 
 auditory pipe is injured, the internal one next the ma 
 may remain unhurt. It must also be observed that the 
 Creator has vouchsafed to make this a circumstance 0} 
 pleasure to us: a number of musical instruments amu 
 and delight us; our auditory nerves transmit to us, with 
 great exactness, the tones of an infinite number of so 
 norous bodies. When we reflect on this favour, o 
 grateful hymns ought to reach as far as sound itself, 
 ‘The whole universe should resound with praise to ou 
 heavenly Benefactor. é 7 
 
 SEPTEMBER VII. 
 : The Mysteries of Nature. 
 
 WHEN men attempt to investigate things, and to pene. 
 trate into the causes of effects which come under da 
 
 observation, they are obliged to acknowledge how lim 
 ed and weak their understandings are. The knowle 
 we have of nature, and of which we are sometimes $0 
 vain, scarcely extends any farther than to a superficial 
 acquaintance with the effects of a few things which fal 
 immediately under. our notice, and which we apply, im 
 a certain measure, to our advantage. But to ascertair 
 the causes of these effects, or to discover how they @ 
 perate, is generally a task too difficult for our finite fa 
 culties. Thousands of effects in nature are concealed 
 from us; and those which we are able to explain, h 
 still some obscurity in them, which reminds us that ¥ 
 are but men. There are many phenomena, the nea 
 causes of which are unknown to us; several are doub 
 ful; aad there are very few of which we can he cert 
 
The Mysteries of Nature. 125 
 
 | We hear the wind whistle; we experience its great and 
 | yarious effects; but we know not exactly what produces” 
 | it, what increases it, or what abates its violence. From 
 | asmall seed we see a plant spring up with stalks and- 
 ears; but we know not how this is effected. As little 
 | ean we comprehend how a smal] kerne! can produce a 
 | tree, in the branches of which the birds build their nests; 
 | which clothes itself with leaves and blossoms to shade 
 | and refresh us; and which affords fruit for our nourish-- 
 | ment, and wood for our various wants and convenien- 
 | ces. All the aliments we use, which are so very differ- 
 ent in their nature, are, by an incomprehensible pro- 
 | cess, transformed within us into one substance, which 
 ) assimilates to our flesh and blood. We behold the won- 
 derful effects of the loadstone, and we believe there must 
 be a certain matter which operates in it; but whether it 
 | acts by an attractive force peculiar to itself, or whether 
 | it is a sort of fluid perpetually circulating about the load- 
 | stone, or whether it forms a kind of vortex, is what we - 
 | cannot decide. 
 | We feel the cold; but no naturai philosopher has yet° 
 | discovered what occasions it. We are better informed — 
 than our aneestors were in respect to thunder; but of 
 _ what nature is that electrical matter which shows itself so 
 | terrible in storms? We know that the eye observes the 
 images painted on the retina, and that the ear has a per-- 
 ception of the vibration of the air; but whence is percep- 
 tion, and how is it caused? We are conscious of the ex=- 
 | istence of a soul in the body: but who can explain the u-- 
 nion of soul and body, or their mutual influence on each 
 other? The effects of fire and air are continually be- 
 ‘fore us; but who is intimately acquainted with their na- 
 ) ture, their integral parts, and the manner in which their 
 | different effects take place? In a word, in respect to 
 Feo things we have no certain principles, but are re- 
 | duced to conjecture. and probabilities. What are all the: 
 | hypotheses of philosophers, but tacit ‘confessions of their ° 
 |limited knowledge? Nature at every step presents won- 
 ders which confound us; and whatever researches, what- 
 | 
 
 ever discoveries we have made, there stil] remain a thous-- 
 and things which we cannot comprehend. It is true, we’ 
 are sometimes able to give happy explanations of cer+ 
 tain phenomena; but 1 principles, the first springs,, 
 3. 63 
 
128 SEPTEMBER VIII. 
 
 C4 
 
 lids, and they cannot draw back their eyes; but the 
 cornea, which is as hard as horn, sufficiently defen 
 them from all danger. Formerly the mole was suppo: 
 destitute of sight; it is however certain that it has @ 
 little black eyes, though not larger than the hea 
 pins. As this animal is generally under ground, it ™ 
 necessary that its eyes should be very small, sunk in 
 head, and covered with hair. i 
 The eyes of snails are placed at the end of two Io 
 horns, and they have the power to draw them in, or 
 raise them above their heads to discover distant object 
 In some animals which can neither move their eyes 
 heads, this defect is compensated either by a multi 
 of eyes, or in some other manner. Spiders have fro 
 four to six, and sometimes eight eyes, all placed or 
 front of a round head, with no neck. ‘They are cle: 
 and transparent as diamonds. According to the | 
 life, and the different wants of some sorts of spider 
 these eyes are differently placed; so that without mo 
 ing their heads, they may on all sides see the flies de 
 tined to be their food. © The cameleon, a species of li 
 ard, has the singular property of moving one of its ey: 
 while the other remains motionless: of turning one t 
 to the sky, and looking on the ground with the othe 
 and of seeing what passes before and behind at the san 
 time. The same faculty is observed in some birds, ar 
 in hares and rabbits, whose eyes are convex ; and th 
 property saves them from many dangers, and enabl 
 them to find out their food more easily. = - 
 These remarks, which might be easily multiplied, « 
 vidently mark the tender care of Providence for the pri 
 servation of the most necessary organs. God has con 
 municated the blessing of light to his creatures in di 
 ferent ways, and we are struck with astonishment 
 we consider the wonderful art displayed, and the pr 
 cautions taken to preserve the possession of this pre 
 ous organ, and to defend it from the dangers:to whic 
 it might be exposed. a 
 All the parts of the bodies of animals are disposed i 
 the most exact proportion, and in a manner the best: 
 dapted to their different designs. The situation of th 
 eyes, their form, number, and arrangement, could nr 
 have been different in any creature without occasionip 
 various inconveniences... It was not only for ornamen 
 
Fish, 129 
 
 but for the benefit of animals, that the Creator so va- 
 ' ried the construction and position of their eyes. And, 
 _ undoubtedly, one of his views in this was to teach us to 
 acknowledge and praise his wisdom in all things. Let 
 | these reflections Jead us to acknowledge the wisdom of 
 
 SEPTEMBER IX. 
 Fish. 
 
 | Wuo that had never seen fish would have believed that 
 such creatures existed? Ifa naturalist only knew-ani- 
 mals that walk and breathe on land, and were told that 
 there were creatures in the water, so formed as to live, 
 move, multiply, and fulfil every animal function in that 
 element with ease and pleasure, would he not treat it as 
 | a fiction, and conclude, from the effect on our bodies 
 | when plunged in water, that it must be absolutely im- 
 | possible to live in that situation ? 
 
 _ The way in which fish live, their construction, mo- 
 | tions, &c. are truly wonderful, and afford fresh proofs 
 | of the omnipotence and infinite wisdom of our Creator. 
 | To enable these creatures to live in water, it was neces- 
 _ sary to form their bodies,in essential points, very differ-_ 
 } ent from those of land animals ; and we accordingly find 
 | this the case in fish, both with regard to their external 
 | and internal structure. ‘ 
 
 Why has the Creator given to most fish a slender thin 
 body, flattened at the sides, and always pointed at the 
 , head, if it were not that they should swim, and cut their 
 | way better in the water? Why are they covered with 
 | scales of a horny substance, if it be not to preserve their 
 bodies from being hurt by the pressure of the water? 
 Why are several sorts of fish, particularly those without 
 scales, enveloped with a fat and oily substance, if it be 
 not to preserve them from injury, and to guard them. 
 from cold? Why are the bones of fish so diferent from 
 those of other animals, if it be not to make their bodies 
 more flexible and light?) Why are the eyes of fish sunk 
 into the head, and why is the crystalline humour sphe- 
 rical, but to guard them better from being hurt, and to 
 _ make them take in more light? It is evident, that, in 
 the formation of all those parts, the Creator has consi- 
 dered the way of life and destinatian of these animals, 
 
 | 
 : 
 
130 SEPTEMBER IX. ' 
 But there are still more wonderful circumstances in 
 the construction of these creatures, The fins are alm 
 their only limbs; yet these are sufficient to perform 
 their motions. By means of the tail-fins, they move’ 
 ward ; the back-fin directs the motion of the body; # 
 raise themselves by the breast fin, and that of the bi 
 serves to balance them. The gills, situated behind 
 head, are the organs of respiruuon. There are four 
 each side, the uppermost of which are the largest. They 
 are continually swallowing water through their mout 
 which is their drawing in of breath, and they cast it out 
 through their gills, which is their way of breathing ow 
 again. The blood which comes from the heart, 4 
 flows into the veins of the gills, does not return back tc 
 the heart through the lungs, as in land animals, butis 
 directly dispersed throughout all parts of the body— 
 One of the organs most necessary to fish in swimming, 
 is the air-bladder, which is included im the belly, a 
 communicates with the stomach. By means of t 
 bladder they can make their bodies lighter or heavi 
 as they please. When this vessel is inflated they h 
 come lighter, ascend, and swim near the surface of | 
 water: but when it is contracted and the air comp 
 sed, their body becomes heavier, and they sink int 
 water. Thus, if this bladder be pricked with a pin, | 
 fish sinks at once to the bottom, and can no more ra 
 itself to the surface. ‘f 
 The prodigious quantity of fish, with the great varie. 
 ty of shape and size, is highly worthy our admirati¢ 
 In Germany alone there are above four hundred kin 
 of fish, and who can count thenumbers in each species! 
 Their external form is also greatly varied. The ver 
 largest, as well as the smallest of animals, are to Dé 
 found amongst fish. Some are long, and small asa 
 thread; others short and broad. Some are flat, oth 
 cylindrical, triangular, round, &c. Some are armé 
 with a horn, some with a sort of sword, and others y 
 a kind of saw. Some have nostrils through which ti 
 eject the superfluity of water they have swallowed. 
 Which ought we most to admire in all this: th 
 power and wisdom of the Creator, in forming and pt 
 serving these animals, or his goodness in giving the 
 for our use? The whole must lead every attentive 0 
 server of the works of God to magnify hisname. Wha 
 
 a 
 
| Enfluence of the Moon on the Human Body. 13% 
 rreatness appears’ in all the elements, and in all the ani- 
 nals, whether they inhabit the air, the earth, or the 
 ea! in the whale, whose back is like an island in the 
 nidst of the ocean ; and in the gold fish, which glitters 
 n the streamlet! 
 
 SEPTEMBER X. ; 
 The Motions which belong to the Human Body and Mind. 
 
 [uene are three sorts of motions which all persons may 
 ybserve in themselves who turn their thoughts to the 
 jubject. First, those that tend to the preservation of 
 he human frame, such as the motion of the heart, the 
 ireulation of the blood, the action of the stomach in 
 ligestion, the working of the bowels, nourishment, and 
 rowth. Of the action of these vital parts every one is 
 vholly ignorant ; not the least consciousness can be pre- 
 ended of how we live; only when the mavhine is any 
 ay disordered, there is generally some notice given 
 y pain or uneasiness. The second sort of motions are 
 ‘hose which we seem, as free agents, to have the com- 
 and of, but over the performance of which we are con- 
 cious we have no power or direction. Such are all ex- 
 ernal motions, as walking speaking, handling, &c.— 
 re the action follows our wish or will; but we cannot 
 
 e said to direct the muscles, joints, &c. as most of us 
 we wholly ignorant how the action is performed. Of 
 his we have a remarkable instance in taking aim at any 
 hing gor the hand, at the command of what is called 
 he will, does precisely for the most part follow the di- 
 rection of the eye, and strikes the part intended, though 
 e know not how. And even those actions which seem 
 at first to be directed by the will, may at last be per- 
 ormed by a mechanical habit; so that a whole band of 
 usicians may be brought to play on different instru- 
 ments, without attending to the notes ; and a vast varie- 
 y of motions may be regularly performed, but not by 
 the power, nor even by the direction of the performers. 
 “he /ast sort of motions are those which are excited by 
 ur affections and passions; for these are as really felt 
 y the body, as pain externa!ly applied; and they ex- 
 ress themselves likewise on the body by outward signs. 
 ut over these again, that thing called se/fhas'no power 
 excite them; but certainly seems at least to have 
 
132 SEPTEMBER X. 
 
 that of choosing or refusing, of concealing or repress 
 them in some degree; and there is in each individual 
 consciousness at least of their existence, as well as of h 
 power to perform the former motions whenever the m 
 chine is in a state to act. If any one will say that ‘t 
 whole is a mechanism, and that matter may think,” ij 
 not in my power to convince him. I allow there. 
 something mechanical, some connexion with th 
 in every operation of the mind ; but still there is bes 
 a something that I must call self, which receives the im 
 pressions of the senses; which distinguishes pleas 
 from pain; which chooses the one, and rejects the ¢ 
 ther; which is conscious, in short, of its own existenc 
 and conscious also that it exists not of itself. Thi 
 however, though it be in every man, is not attended t 
 by ail; nay, probably would not have been attended 
 by any, if divine revelation had not taught man to thin 
 The great argument of the materialist is, that he w 
 is supposed to act with freedom of wiil, is supposed t 
 act without a motive ; but this 1 beg leave to deny 
 There is a motive in every man, viz. the desire of hay 
 piness, and consequently of existence. I cannot s¢ 
 any right we have to think that the Almighty cann 
 give every one power to choose-as to the means of hap 
 piness, whether to seek it in present enjoyments, or 
 future hopes ; in living in obedience to divine wisdom 
 or in the gratification of gross appetites. In the firs 
 kind of motions before mentioned, | see a proof of gre 
 goodness in the Supreme Being, in not having 
 preservation to myself. In the second, I feel the powe 
 and see the wisdom and goodness of God, in making m 
 sensible of a continual dependence on him; and in hi 
 performing by me such things as I could not do withe 
 a degree of knowledge, and a multiplicity of attention 
 which would make me a very different, and, I suppose 
 a less happy being than I now am. . As to the last kir 
 of motion, viz. that excited by our passions, it seen 
 evident, that it is more worthy of the divine wisdom t 
 be served by moral agents, than by those whom necessi 
 ty directs ; and I therefore believe we have a power 
 regulate our passions, and chek, in some degree, 
 third kind of motion. 1 think then I see a reason ft 
 the three distinct sorts, which every one must be con 
 scious do exist in fact, allowing a freedom of will. But 
 
Influence of the Moon on the Human Body.. 133 
 
 if the whole be guided by necessity, I cannot see any 
 reason for these different appearances, especially for the 
 fallacy which must be naturally imposed upon the great- 
 est part of mankind, and that without any advantage to 
 be obtained by it : I mean the idea of being free agents, 
 which seems to force itself upon us. I think there is 
 still another thing worth observing, as to the motions 
 ‘that concern preservation, which is the uneasy sensa- 
 ‘tions that attend the least disorder in that first set of 
 motions. For these sensations seem to call for help: 
 but to whom do they call, if not to that same self, i. e. 
 the human sow? If any thing happen to the exterior 
 parts of the body, the second sort of motions immediate- 
 ly afford relief. The eye-lids shut mechanically; the 
 hand moves to a part that is hurt; the body springs 
 when in danger of falling; but the palpitation of the 
 eart, or a pain in the stomach, finds no mechanical re- 
 lief. It calls upon the understanding and will to pro- 
 vide a remedy, and therefore necessarily points out the 
 existence of such faculties, and a being in whom they 
 exist ; but if no such being exist, and all be mechanical, 
 how can we account for the divine wisdom, in providing 
 two different ways of acting on that same thinking ma- 
 chine, where one would have been sufficient. : 
 
 SEPTEMBER XI. 
 Influence of the Moon on the Human Body. 
 
 ERTAIN influences were formerly ascribed to the moon, 
 tending to nourish superstition, and excite groundless 
 ‘ears. The gardener would not plant till he had made 
 bservations on this planet ; and the husbandman defer- 
 ved sowing till he was assured of its benignant influence. 
 Sick persons paid the most scrupulous attention to the 
 hanges of the moon, and even physicians regarded them 
 \n all their prescriptions. As knowledge became more 
 generally diffused, however, these prejadices began to 
 subside, and the influence of the moon is no longer con- 
 lidered so powerful and universal an agent in nature as 
 vas formerly imagined. This is one of the many ad- 
 leeeages the present age has over the last :—an advan- 
 wwe which, however little considered, merits our warm- 
 St gratitude to God. It is our indispensable ‘duty to 
 VOL 1. M 
 
134 SEPTEMBER XI. 
 
 render this still more extensive: and to exert ourselves, 
 as much as possible, to extirpate ancient superstitions. 
 With regard to the influence of the moon on ou 
 bodies, the safest way is to preserve a medium: for, ag 
 it would be irrational to attribute to that planet tol 
 great a power oyer the human frame, so it would be ni 
 less rash to deny it any. It must be allowed, that the 
 moon occasions great changes in the air, and, of cours 
 may produce several alterations in our bodies. Th 
 moon causes such considerable alteration and motion it 
 the higher atmosphere, asto occasion earthquakes, wind 
 heat, cold, vapours, and fogs; and on this account, th 
 health of our body will, in a great measure, depend on 
 the influence of the moon. It is observed in persons 
 who have certain infirmities, that they relapse, or suffer 
 most acutely, at the time of new and full moon. i 
 is not surprising ; for if it be true, that cold, damp 
 cloudy, and stormy weather have a different effect upon 
 our health, from a warm, dry, pure, and serene air, th 
 moon must have considerable influence on the animal 
 frame, since it produces so many changes in the tem 
 perature of the atmosphere. The power this planet has 
 over the human body is founded on an undeniable prin- 
 ciple, which is, that our health greatly depends on the 
 weather, and the sort of air we breathe; and it is cel 
 tain that the moon causes many alterations in the at 
 mosphere. Perhaps there may even be a flux and reflux 
 in the human body, occasioned by the moon, like tha 
 in the air and sea. ° . 
 ‘Why do most periodical diseases return at the end of 
 four weeks, rather than at a longer or shorter period, if 
 it be not owing to the effect of the moon upon the hue 
 man body ?—In general, it isa principle we ought to ad= 
 mit, to the glory of our wise Creator, that throughou 
 all natural things there are certain connexions which in- 
 fluence in different ways the animal economy. There 
 are, without doubt, many wonders in the atmosphere 
 still unknown to us, which cause many considerable re 
 volutions in nature. Who knows if some of the phene 
 mena of the corporeal world, which we do not think of, 
 or which we attribute to other causes, may not depen 
 on the moon? Perhaps the light it affords us in the 
 night is one of the least of the purposes for which God 
 formed this planet. Perhaps its being placed so nea 
 
The Ignis Fatuus. 135 
 
 our earth was to produce certain effects on us, which 
 
 the other celestial. bodies, from their distance, could not 
 
 do, It is atleast certain that every thing in the uni- 
 verse has some relation with our globe ; and this is pre- 
 cisely what renders the world a master-piece of divine 
 wisdom. The beauty of the universe consists in the di- 
 versity and harmony of its component parts; in the 
 number, nature, and variety of their effects ; and in the 
 sum of happiness resulting from all these combinations. 
 How then can the influence of the moon or stars create’ 
 “superstitious fears in our minds? If we believe that it 
 _is God who has planned every thing, and who has fixed 
 the connexion between all these globes, how can we en- 
 -eourage vain terrors so contrary to the idea we ought to 
 form of divine wisdom? If we be really persuaded that 
 this great Being governs all things with infinite wisdom 
 and goodness, is it not natural to trust to him, and to 
 _rest with joy and tranquillity upon his good providence? 
 
 | 
 | 5 SEPTEMBER XL. 
 : : The Ignis Fatuus. 
 
 Tus Ignis Fatuus is a little light flame which plays in 
 the air only a few feet from the ground, and appears to 
 go hither and thither at random. ‘This fire frequently 
 seems to disappear, and go out suddenly, probably when 
 shrubs or bushes hide it from the sight; but it is soon 
 rekindled in some other place. These meteors are sel- 
 dom seen in cold climates ; and in winter they only aps 
 _ pear in wet and marshy lands. In Spain, Italy, and o- 
 ther hot countries, they are met with in all season’, and 
 are neither extinguished by wind nor rain. They are 
 _also frequently seen where there are putrid plants, or 
 _ animal matter, as in church-yards, shores, and rich and 
 | marshy ground. 
 | Too few experiments have been made on:these sort 
 | of ethereal fires to determine precisely as to their na- 
 ture. But the places where they are generally seen 
 | May give rise to probable conjectures; for as they 
 scarcely ever appear but in marshy countries, it is na- 
 tural to suppose that they are ignited sulphureous ex- 
 halations. It is known that carcases and rotten plants 
 | sometimes emit light. Perhaps vapours condensed by 
 the cold of the night tale the appearance of the Ignis 
 | 2 
 
136 SEPTEMBER XII. 
 
 Fatuus: or it may be the effect of a slight electrici 
 produced by the interior motion of the vapours wh 
 rise in the air. Horses, dogs, cats, and even men, mi 
 become so electric as to emit sparks of fire when th 
 are rubbed, or put in motion ina particular way. M 
 not this be the case with some parts of the earth? 
 field in some-circumstances may be electrified in som 
 parts, and then it is not surprising that it should ap 
 Juminous. Even the air may occasion the Ignis Fatu 
 when it is electrified to a certain degree. cS 
 if the manner in which these phenomena is produce 
 be still doubtful, we are certain, at least, that it pr 
 ceeds from natural causes, and, consequently, are n 
 obliged to have recourse to superstition. Superstitio 
 people ‘ook on these flames with such terror, that fe 
 have courage to approach them. They think they ¢ 
 departed souls, or wicked spirits, which wander abo 
 and take pleasure in leading travellers astray during t 
 night. What may have given rise to this superstitio 
 idea is, that the ignis Fatuus follows all the motions | 
 the air, and thus flies from those who pursue it: an 
 on the contrary, follows those who try to avoid it, ar 
 fixes on carriages which go swiftly. But the reason” 
 these phenomena is very evident; for the person wh 
 pursues this flame drives the air, and consequently t 
 tire, before him; whereas he who flies, leaves an empt 
 space, which the ambient air fills up continually. Thi 
 produces a current of air between him and the fire, an 
 of course draws it-after him. This is the reason we ol 
 serve it to. stop when the person ceases to run. 
 How-many péople torment themselves with terrors 
 and alarms which have no other ground than a disorde 
 ed imegination! And how easily might these be avoic 
 ed, if they would but examine the objects which frigh 
 en them, and investigate thcir natural causes! Nearl 
 the same thing happens in a moral senses With what 
 ardour do men pursue the goods of fortune, without ex- 
 amining whether they merit such anxiety, or can affor 
 the happiness expected from them! Most ambitious 
 and covetous people may be compared to a man running 
 after the Ignis Fatuus without ever being able to catch 
 it. What do they gain in the end by their contim 
 _ exertions to obtain riches, which, both in their nature 
 and duration, resemble this uncertain flame? Terres 
 
On Minerals. 137 
 
 trial good generally flies from him who pursues, and 
 falls to the lot of those who seem to avoid it. 
 
 | 7 SEPTEMBER XIII. 
 | On Minerals. 
 
 Iy order to provide themselves with wholesome and: 
 convenient dwellings, mankind require many materials, 
 If these had been spread over the surface of the earth, 
 it would have been entirely covered with them, and 
 there would not have been sufficient room for animals 
 and plants. Our earth is happily free from such en- 
 cumbrance ; and its surface is left to be cultivated and 
 traversed by its inhabitants without any hinderance.— 
 ‘Metals, stones, and a hundred other things which we 
 continually use, are shut up. in vast magazines under 
 our feet, where we may find them whenever we want 
 them. They are not concealed in the heart of the earth, 
 ‘nor at an inaccessible depth, but are purposely brought: 
 near the surface, and placed under a vault, which is. 
 both thick enough to produce our food, and thin enough 
 to be dug through when we find it necessary to take out 
 ‘some of the numberless materials provided in it, for the: 
 use of mankind. P 
 
 _ All the substances in the mineral kingdom may be 
 divided into four classes; each having its distinguishing 
 characteristic. The first includes earths, substances 
 which cannot be dissolved: by water, fire, nor oil, which 
 are not malleable, and bear the action of. the fire with- 
 out losing any of their substance. ‘This class; besides 
 the simple earths, includes the stones which are com-- 
 posed of them. There are two sorts of stones, the pre- 
 cious and the common. The latter are very nume-- 
 rous, and present themselves to us in masses different 
 in form, size, colour, and hardness,, according to the: 
 earth, sulphur, &c. of which they are composed.. Pre~ 
 cious stones also exhibit great variety. Some are per- 
 fectly transpareht, and appear to be the most simple:: 
 others are more or less opaque, according as.they are: 
 composed more or less of: heterogeneous particles. 
 
 _ Salis form the second class in the mineral kingdom. 
 ont include those bodies. which are soluble in water, 
 
 nd which Jeave a relish-on the tongue... Some are li-- 
 
 quefied in the fire, and others remain in it unaltered. . 
 M.3 
 a 
 
 | 
 
138 SEPTEMBER XIIi. . : 
 
 They are divided into acids, which are sharp and sot 
 and into alkalies, which impart to the tongue a b 
 acrid, and lixivial taste. These have the property’ 
 changing vegetable blues into green, as acids conve 
 blue into red. From an exact and proper mixture 
 these two salts with each other, neutral salts are pro= 
 duced; such as the common kitclten salt, which is e 
 ther taken out of the earth, prepared with sea-water 
 or obtained by the evaporation of brackish water 
 great caldrons. All-these salts together form one | 
 the chief causes of vegetation. They possibly serve a 
 so to unite and strengthen the parts of plants, as we 
 as all the other compound bodies. Lastly, they oce 
 sion fermentation, the effects of which are so numerot 
 and so different. oe ‘j 
 The third class of minerals comprehends znflammabi 
 bodies, to which are given the name of Bitumens. 
 burn in the fire, and when pure they dissolve in oil, 
 never in water. They are distinguished from other x 
 nerals by containing a greater portion of inflammab 
 matter, which renders those bodies, in which it is foun 
 in a sufficient quantity, combustible; and there is mor 
 or less of it in all bodies. 
 The fourth class of the mineral kingdom contains 
 metals. These are bodies much heavier than the o- 
 thers: they become fluid in the fire, but resume their 
 solidity when cold. ‘They are bright, and are capable 
 of being distended under the hammer. There are som 
 metals, which though melted in the fire, do not dim 
 nish in weight, nor undergo any other sensible alters 
 tion. This gives them the name of perfect metals. 
 this sort there are three, gold, silver, and platina. Th 
 other metals, which are called imperfect, are reduce 
 more or Jess quickly by fire, and generally change int® 
 calx. One of these, lead, has the property of being 
 changed into glass, and of vitrifying all the other mee 
 als, except gold’and silver, The imperfect metals ar 
 five in number, viz. quicksilver, lead, copper, iron, and 
 tin.. But there are other bodies which are distinguis 
 ed from metals, not being ductile nor malleable. The 
 are called semi-metals, and are seven in number, Vii 
 platen, bismuth, nickel, arsenic, antimony, zine, 
 Cobalt. Toe 
 The mineral kingdom may be considered as the gre 
 
} - Exotic Plants: 139 
 
 } wareliouse of nature, where she secretly labours for the 
 good of the world. No naturalist can surprise her in 
 | her operations, and steal from her the art with which 
 | she prepares, collects, and composes earths or fossils, 
 | salts, bitumens, and metals. If we cannot guess how 
 nature employs the matter which she every day produ- 
 ces, it is no Jess difficult to discover how the parts mix, 
 | combine, attenuate, and, in the end, form the different 
 ‘bodies which minerals present to.us. We have but an 
 | imperfect knowledge of the surface of the earth, and we 
 | are still less acquainted with the interior parts. The 
 deepest mines are not lower than 630 fathoms, which 
 | is not the six thousandth part of the earth’s diameter. 
 | This alone may convince-us how impossible it is to ob- 
 tain an exact and general knowledge of nature, and of 
 the formation of many things amongst minerals. Hap- 
 pily in the use we make of nature’s gifts, it is of little 
 _eonsequence that we should know their origin and first 
 principles. In having the knowledge necessary to apply 
 them to our use, we know enough to glorify our Crea- 
 tor; as we are convinced that there is nota spot, either 
 above or below the earth, in which he has. not shown 
 his power, wisdom, and goodness. 
 
 SEPTEMBER XIV. 
 Exotic Plants. 
 
 We do not pay sufficient attention to the gifts of God, 
 particularly to those which come to us from distant 
 countries, and are now so necessary. If we conidered 
 how much trouble it costs, how many whecls-must be 
 put in motion, and how much human industry it re- 
 -guires to procure us alittle sugar or cinnamon, we 
 should not receive the gifts of nature so coldly as we 
 generally do; but, on the contrary, we should look up 
 with the warmest gratitude towards that. beneficent Be- 
 Ing who uses so many means to bestow his-blessings up- 
 onus. Let-us at present consider.some of the foreign 
 productions which.are become necessaries of life, and. 
 which would: be so difficult. for us to dispense with._— 
 Perhaps some useful reflections may arise from this; 
 and we may think at least with pity on those unhappy 
 slaves, whose indefatigable labour supplies us with so 
 
 é ’ 
 
 many luxuries. . 
 f . 
 
 KS 
 
142 SEPTEMBER XV. 
 
 terminate in a point. In the middle and at the ends 
 the branches there are white blossoms, from which | 
 fruit grows in clusters, like gooseberries;; each clus 
 bearing twenty or thirty pepper corns. “i 
 It is not a little satisfaction to/a reflecting mi 
 contemplate the number and variety of aliments. desi 
 ed, not only to supply our necessities,) but also to gr 
 fy. our palate. Every country contributes, to furnis! 
 with the conveniences and comforts of life. The in 
 bitants of the most remote climates labour for us; 4 
 the unhappy slave, torn from his nearest and dear 
 connexions, toils to prepare those. luxuries whieh 
 consume with so much profusion, Let us, seriously 
 flect upon these things, and incessantly adore that bo 
 -teous God who furnishes our table from, all parts, 4 
 renders every quarter of the globe subservient to ¢ 
 enjoyments. 
 
 . 
 
 SEPTEMBER XV.. 
 - . Reflections on Myself. 
 
 I tive; my blood circulates, without my knowing h 
 through arteries and veins, which are formed for # 
 purpose with wonderful art. I can enjoy the sweets 
 sleep ; and in that insensible state, when my body ap 
 pears motionless and lifeless, my soul still exists. Ti 
 wake; my senses resume their functions, and my sot 
 receives clearer and more lively impressions. I eat 
 drink, and, on all sides surrounded with the beaut 
 and treasures of nature, I experience a thousand pl 
 sing sensations. Am I the cause of these effects? Di 
 I give to the first principles, the first lineaments of m 
 body, this wonderful motion, when I was plunged int 
 thingness, and knew not what motion was? Did J fort 
 the many different parts of my body ? I who do not 
 ven now comprehend their arrangement and combing 
 tion? Was I wiser before | existed, or did my exi 
 
 ence precede that of my thinking principle? How 
 it that I cannot determine the point which separal 
 sleep from waking? What is the mechanism of my ste 
 mach, which digests food without my directing, or 
 ny way contributing towards it; and how is this di 
 tion contrived? Why are all creatures of my speci 
 formed as I am; and why did I not form myself diffe 
 
Reflections on Myself. 143 
 
 sntly? Did I create ail the beauties of nature, or did 
 hey also produce themselves? What makes me sus- 
 septible of pleasure and pain? Who is it that makes 
 he bread to grow in the ground, and the water to spring 
 ip, that my body may not wither away, nor my limbs 
 ose their motion ? em causes the rays of light to fall 
 my eyes, that I may not be enveloped in perpe- 
 gists | ? Whee proseed the Reta en 
 ence, and whence the pain and grief of which Iam so 
 ensible ? Why do I not enjoy continual health? And 
 vhy was | so cruel as to form myself with so many im- 
 yerfections? Does every thing proceed from me ?— 
 dave I power and activity enough for this? And are all 
 ny fellow-creatures endowed with the same faculties ? 
 _ These extravagant and contradictory thoughts only 
 rve to discover the perverseness of those who indulge 
 hem. My soul, limited and imperfect as it is, declares 
 he greatness of that being who formed it,—a Being ne- 
 sessarily self-existent, and infinitely perfect, on whom 
 am entirely dependent. This body which I bear, and 
 of whose structure 1 am comparatively ignorant, proves 
 hat there must ‘be a wise Workman, whose greatness 
 feeble intellect cannot fathom, and who has made 
 ind arranged these muscles, nerves, and veins, and all 
 he parts of my body, in so wonderful a manner. 
 _ How could man, that weak and limited being, contrive 
 ind execute the original of a machine so complete and 
 o artfully constracted; he who is not able even to copy 
 or make an exact representation of it? There is*not 
 he smallest particle of our bodies for which there is not 
 t sufficient reason; and which is not either absolutely 
 lecessary, or at Jeast made such by its connexion with 
 he other parts. Experience, as well as reason, proves 
 his beyond a doubt; and certainly the Creator must be - 
 nfinitely great, since I am not the only being who may 
 glory in having been formed with so much wisdom and 
 with such wonderful art. Millions of my fellow-crea- 
 ‘ures, immumerable multitudes of animate and inanimate 
 deings seem to-cry out with ‘one voice, ‘* Behold the 
 isible God, acknowledge him in his works; behold 
 Slerntioss and perfection displayed in all of us!— 
 eflect on the most insignificant of beings: it lives as 
 ou dost; it has received its existence and life as thou 
 
 . 
 . 
 
144 SEPTEMBER XV. 
 
 hast. Blessings on him who has so wonderfully for 
 ed us.” a 
 To thee, O Lord! thou adorable Author of my ex 
 ence, do I owe eternal praise. It is through thee tl 
 I live, move, and have my being. It is through t 
 goodness that my soul continues to reflect and think 
 a sound body. It is by thy will that all nature gladd 
 my heart. It is thou whose power, wisdom, and gos 
 ness, I and all intelligent beings adore. It is thy pr 
 vidence I bless. Thou knowest all hearts; thou regai 
 est all our actions. Thou dost not desire that we shou 
 pass our days in darkness and sorrow; or that we sho 
 consider our existence as an evil. Thou permittest 
 to enjoy with gratitude the innocent pleasures of li 
 When the feathered chorister, cleaving the yielding a 
 astonishes me with the rapidity of its flight, the elega 
 of its form, and the sweetness of its notes, is it not f 
 per that I should consider it as thy work, and listen 
 its songs as so many hymns to its Creator? Thou p 
 videst for it as well as for me. It feeds on the see 
 which thou causest to grow, and the corn which see 
 to rot in the ground, by thy command becomes the st 
 port of my life. Thou sendest sun and rain to make fl 
 earth abound in delicious fruit, whilst I with the utmo 
 effort could not produce a single blade of grass. I 
 not merely the necessaries of life that thou grantest. 
 but also what the world calls riches, pleasures, fortun 
 and happiness. Thou directest events in such a mz 
 ner, that even those which appear the most unfortunat 
 often contribute towards our felicity. In a word, afte 
 having formed us most admirably, thou still preserve 
 us by a continual train of wonders. — 
 O that the short hours of my earthly pilgrimage, 
 hours which can never return, may be employed in sue 
 a manner as may best answer the design of my exis 
 ence; that when I leave this world, I may enter into 
 state of greater blessedness, and be better able to com 
 -prehend the mysteries of nature and grace. May th 
 contemplation of thy wonders, under the influences 
 thy Holy Spirit, excite me to praise and adore thee t 
 eternity ! ‘ 
 
ie - «ied 
 
 Strength of the Human Body. 145 
 | .. ‘SEPTEMBER XVI. 
 The Strength of the Human Body compared with that 
 ea, of Animals. 
 
 Axrnovucs the human body is externally more delicate 
 than that of most animals, yet it is very strong, and per- 
 haps more so, in proportion to its size, than any of theirs: 
 for when we compare the strength of a lion with that of 
 a man, we ought to consider that this animal being arm- 
 ed with claws, we are apt to form a false idea of his 
 strength from the use he makes of them. But there is 
 a better method of comparing the strength of men and 
 animals; and this is by the weight they can carry. If 
 it were possible to unite in one point, or to collect into 
 one effort, all the strength that a man exerts in a day, 
 we should find that the weight he could lift every day 
 a foot from the ground, without injuring himself, would 
 be equal to one million seven hundred and twenty-eight 
 thousand pounds. Men accustomed to hard labour can 
 ea carry a burden of a hundred and fifty, or two 
 undred pounds weight, without much exertion; and 
 common porters often carry from seven to eight hun-. 
 dred pounds weight. In London, those who work at 
 the quays, in loading and unloading ships, sometimes 
 carry burdens too weighty for an ordinary horse. 
 _ The size of a man’s body is in proportion to that of 
 a horse, as one is to six or seven. If, therefore, the 
 strength of the horse were proportionate to that of a 
 man, he would be able to carry a load of twelve or four- 
 teen thousand pounds weight. But vo horse can carry 
 so much; and, allowing for the difference of size, his 
 strength is only equal, if not inferior, to that of man. 
 learned Frenchman made an experiment to ascertain 
 the strength of the human body. He contrived a sort 
 of harness, by means of which he placed on every part 
 of a man’s body standing upright, a certain number of 
 weights, so that-each part of the body supported as 
 nuch as it could bear relatively to the rest, each hav- 
 ng its due proportion of the load. ‘This machine ena- 
 dled the man to carry a weight of two thousand pounds, 
 vithout his being overloaded. , We may also form some 
 udgment of a man’s strength, by the continuance of his 
 *xercise, and the agility of his motions. Men who are 
 | VOL. Il. N 
 
 | 
 
148. SEPTEMBER XVIIt. 
 
 Thus, when they are hatched, they find themselves g 
 rounded with proper aliments, without being obliged 
 change their place at a time when they are too fee 
 undertake long journeys. z 
 All these things, and many others of the same natu 
 are calculated to make us admire the wise plans o} 
 protecting Providence. » 1f any thing but miracles, ab- 
 solutely out of the course of nature, could affect and ¢ 
 cite our attention, the consideration of the cares whi 
 these insects have for their progeny, so diverse in ¢ 
 ferent species, but always uniform and constant in eg 
 individual, would fill us with the greatest admiration 
 Let us, who are rational beings, learn from these ] 
 creatures to maintain in our hearts the love of posterit 
 and to interest ourselves effectually for those that are” 
 come after us. Let us not be discouraged in the »p 
 jects and schemes we form, by the thought that dea 
 may overtake us before we have accomplished t 
 Let us remember what we owe to society, and that} 
 ought to take at least as much interest in what relat 
 to posterity as those who came before us did in 
 relates to this age. It is particularly the duty of pz 
 to learn from the butterfly to provide for the welfare ¢ 
 the children whe survive them; and to place them 
 forehand in as agreeable a situation as they can. 
 certainly cannot foresee, nor consequently preven 
 wants and misfortunes to which they may be ex 
 by unforeseen accidents; but at least, they shoul: 
 be made unhappy through our fault. 
 
 SEPTEMBER XVIII. 
 The Vine. 
 
 WE need only reflect on the vine, to be convinced 
 
 unreasonable those are who complain of the inequaliti 
 and unevenness of the ground. ‘The vine never flour 
 es in a flat country ; neither does every hill agree 
 it, but only those which are turned towards the eg 
 south. Hills are in a manner the bulwarks of natu 
 which she invites us to garnish; as so many vast 
 for fruit, where the reflected heat of the sun is fom 
 united to the salubrity of the open air. Even the mo 
 barren hills, and those hanging grounds where 1 
 plough cannot be used, are annually clothed with the 
 
The Vine. 149° 
 
 most beautiful verdure, and produce the most delicious 
 of all fruit. If the soil where the vine grows appear 
 poor and bad, the plant itself is little better. Who 
 could have imagined that the meanest, most deformed, 
 most brittle, and useless wood in the world could have 
 _ produced such a delicious liquor! And yet such is the 
 | vegetative energy of the vine, that the sap flows through 
 with six or eight times the force that the blood does in 
 the veins of animals. The evaporation from the vine is 
 also so considerable, that, to supply what is exhaled 
 ‘through the leaves, a hundred and fifty-two inches of 
 Sap are required to rise in the space of twelve hours. 
 has endued the vine with qualities so superior to’ 
 the meanness of its origin and the poverty of its native 
 ground? Whi gave it suclr spirit and energy, which 
 not only preserve it for many years, but even enable it 
 
 ‘to acquire new degrees of strength ? 
 
 - Much wisdom is displayed in the distribution of vine- 
 yards over the earth. These do not succeed equally in 
 all places; but to thrive well they should be situated 
 between the fortieth and fiftieth degrees of latitude, 
 éonséquently about the middle of the globe. Asia is 
 propery the country of the vine; whence its cultivation 
 has gradually extended into Europe. The Pheenicians, 
 who at a very early period travelled over all the Medi- 
 | terranean coasts, conveyed it to several islands, and to 
 the continent. It succeeded wonderfully in the islands 
 | of the Archipelago, and was afterwards carried into 
 Italy. The vine was there greatly maltiplied: and the 
 Gauls having tasted the juice, and wishing to settle in 
 the place where it was produced, passed the Alps, and 
 | conquered both sides of the Po. By degrees vines were 
 cultivated all over France, and at last on the borders of 
 the Rhine, the Moselle, the Neckar, and in other parts 
 
 of Germany. 
 
 _ These observations may give rise to many important 
 reflections. As the most barren soil is fit for the cul- 
 ‘tare of vines, so it often happens that the poorest coun- 
 tries are favourable to science and wisdom. In provin- 
 €es universally despised for their poverty, men of geni- 
 us have arisen, whose knowledge has illuminated other 
 countries. There is, in fact, no place so desert, no 
 town so small, nor village so miserable, in which cers 
 tain branches of learning have not been cultivated. with:. 
 
 N 3. 
 
152 SEPTEMBER XX. 
 
 his Divine Patron. Yet he resists his will! What th 
 can affect him, or whom will he not presume to oppose 
 Let us who daily witness the wonders of our 
 pay due attention to them, and not shut our $ 
 gainst the truth. Let neither prejudice nor passion pr 
 vent us from meditating on the wonderful works of Ge 
 If we do but contemplate the visible world, and refi 
 on ourselves, we shall find sufficient cause to ackn 
 ledge Him who performs so many daily wonders in our 
 sight. Occupied with these grand ideas, and impressed 
 with rapturous admiration, we shall then exclaim, Praii 
 honour, and glory be ascribed unto God, the author 
 supreme good, and the redeemer of our souls! To th 
 God who alone performs wonders, and refreshes | 
 heart of man with sweet consolation ; to him who 
 suages our anguish, supports us in our afflictions, ¢ 
 wipes away all tears from our eyes ; to him be render 
 the humble tribute of grateful adoration to all etern’ 
 
 SEPTEMBER XX. vi 
 Digestion of Food. — ual 
 
 DrcEstion is a wonderful and complicated piece of m 
 chanism, which we perform every day, without knowi 
 how, and without even taking the trouble to learn w 
 is most remarkable and essential in so important a fune- 
 tion of the human body. It is happy for us, that, in 
 der to digest well, it is not necessary to know how it 
 performed ; but it is still desirable to be acquainted w 
 the process, to have some idea at least of the operatic 
 of nature in this respect. Nib y 
 When the food has been masticated and proper 
 moistened, it is m a proper state to be sent from 
 mouth into the esophagus or gullet. This is the! 
 office, in regard to digestion, in which our will has 
 part; for all the rest is done without our being conse 
 ous of it, and even without our being able to preven 
 if we wished to do'so. As soon as a bit enters the 
 phagus,. it thrusts it forward, by a mechanism peculiar 
 to itself, and forces it into the stomach, whither itso: 
 gravity could not carry it. Having entered'the stoma¢ 
 the food is there reduced by some particular means 
 to a soft paste of a greyish colour, which, after bein 
 sufficiently attenuated, passes into the first intestim 
 
 | 
 
 oo 
 
Digestion of Food. . 153 
 
 called the duodenum. Here the alimentary mass un- 
 new changes. Several little vessels, which come 
 from the gall bladder, and from a gland placed behind 
 the bottom of the stomach, which is called the pancreas, 
 terminate at the duodenum, and pour into it the bile 
 mn creatic juice, which are there mixed with the 
 food. Besides these, there are a multitude of glands in 
 ,the intestines, which diffuse their humours through e- 
 -yery part of the alimentary mass. It is after this mix- 
 ture, that the true chyle is discovered amongst this 
 ‘mass; and there is much reason to believe, that the di- 
 gestion is completed in the duodenum. 
 The mass of food continues its course through the o- 
 ther intestines, where it is continually moistened by the 
 juices which separate in their cavities. The chyle be- 
 gins then to pass into the lacteal veins, which open on 
 every side through the intestines, and afterwards termi- 
 nate in the reservoir of chyle. This is placed in that 
 part of the back where the first lumbar vertebra begins, 
 and from it the thoracic duct rises and ascends through 
 the chest. The chyie passes through this conal; and. 
 ‘mixing afterwards with the blood, goes into the heart, 
 and thence through all the veins of the body, after ha- 
 ving lost its white or greyish colour. 
 _ But there are always some parts of the food which are 
 too gross to be converted into chyle. These are pro- 
 pelled downwards by a motion peculiar to the intestines, 
 by means of which they are alternately contracted and 
 relaxed. When this motion has caused the alimentary 
 mass to advance as far as the third intestine, it propels 
 the remainder through the fourth, fifth, and sixth, which 
 last is called the rectum, and is provided with a strong 
 circular muscle, the sphincter, for the purpose of pre- 
 -yenting the residuum continually passing through.— 
 Thus retarded, it remains till the quantity occasions ir- 
 ritation, and is then finally evacuated. 
 | _ This is a slight sketch of the manner in which diges- 
 tion is performed within us; a point so essential to our 
 health, and even to our existence. Let us reflect how 
 evidently the wisdom of God appears in all this. How 
 Deny wonderful circumstances must unite for this opera- 
 bap The stomach must not only have an inward heat 
 nd a dissolving fluid, but also a peristaltic motion, in 
 order to reduce the food into a soft paste, and chang¢ 
 
 | 
 . 
 
156 SEPTEMBER) &xII. 0 
 
 Blessed be that God who is our sovereign good! Hi 
 pours joy and gladness into our hearts; and, thoug hI 
 sometimes tries us with affliction, he soon pours | 
 balm of consolation into our souls, and cheers us w 
 the sweet anticipation of eternal and unclouded happi- 
 ness. By secret and unknown paths he leads to the « 
 joyment of many blessings: and even the trials he o 
 casionally sends are intended to accomplish the mo 
 beneficent designs, which we shall one day grateful 
 acknowledge. In the mean time we may repose secur 
 ly on his tender care and paternal protection; knowin 
 that his eye is continually upon us, and that he will m 
 ver permit us to be tried above our strength. 
 
 SEPTEMBER XXII. 
 Enmity between Animals. 
 
 A CONSTANT enmity is observable among animals; for 
 they are continually attacking and pursuing each other, 
 and every element is to them a field of battle. The 
 eagle is a:terror to the inhabitants of the air; the tiger 
 lives by carnage on the earth ; the pike in the wate: 
 and the mole under ‘ground. In these and many othe 
 animals, it is the want of food which induces them 
 destroy one another; but there is an antipathy betwee 
 some creatures which does not proceed from the same 
 cause. It is evident, for example; that the animals 
 which twist themselves round the trunk of the elephant, 
 and press it till they have suffocated him, do it not wit 
 a design of procuring food. When the ermine leaps u 
 and fixes itself in:the ear of the bear or the elk, z 
 bites them with his sharp teeth, we cannot say that 
 these hostilities are occasioned by hunger. — Besid 
 this, there is not an animal on earth, however sm 
 that does not serve as food for others. itt 
 I know well, that to some persons this plan of nature 
 will appear cruel and improper. But 1 will. venture to 
 maintain, that this very antipathy amongst animals, is 
 convincing proof, that all is wisely ordered. If we co 
 sider animals in the whole, we shall find the necessit 
 of some species subsisting upon others; for on the on 
 hand, without this arrangement many creatures ca 
 not exist; and on the other, these numerous species, 
 instead of being prejudicial, are extremely useful. 
 
 , 
 5 
 
 - 
 
rt Enmity between Animals. 157 
 
 s, and many reptiles, feed on carrion. Others 
 n the bodies of certain animals, and live upon their - 
 sh and blood ; and these same insects serve as food 
 
 thers. Carnivorous animals, and birds of prey, kill 
 feed upon other animals. Some species multiply 
 pidly, that they would be a burden to us were there 
 | stop put to such increase. If there were no spar- 
 ws to destroy insects, what would become of the fruit 
 and flowers? Were it not for the ichneumon, which 
 seeks the eggs of the crocodile to destroy and break 
 them, this terrible animal would multiply to an alarming - 
 degree. A great part of the earth would be desert, and 
 
 many sorts of creatures could not exist, were there no 
 carnivorous animals. It may perhaps be said, that they 
 might live on vegetables; but, if so, our fields would 
 scarcely suffice to feed the sparrows and swallows. And 
 how could fish subsist were they not to feed on the in- 
 habitants of the water? There is reason also to sup- 
 pose, that, if these hostilities and depredations were to 
 cease, animals would lose much of their vivacity and in- 
 dustry, the creation would be less animated, and man 
 a would lose a great degree of his activity. We 
 
 ay add, that many striking proofs of Divine wisdom 
 would be wanting were there an universal peace among 
 
 i : for the address, sagacity, and wonderful in- 
 tinct with which they lay snares for, and surprise, their 
 ey, evidently manifest the wisdom of the Creator. 
 So far, then, is the enmity among animals from cast- 
 ng a shade over the wisdom and goodness of God, that 
 hese perfections, on the contrary, shine with double 
 ustre from it. It is consistent with the plan of the 
 orld, that one animal should persecute another. I 
 sonfess we might complain, if the entire destruction of 
 ny species were the result: but this never happens ; 
 n the contrary, the enmity which subsists among ani- 
 als is the real cause of preserving a perfect balance. 
 Jarnivorous animals are therefore indispensable links in 
 he chain of beings; but, for this same reason, their 
 
 ber is small in comparison with that of useful 
 
 nimals. 
 ‘At is particularly worthy of remark, that the strongest 
 Most savage animals have generally the least skill 
 Pcunning. They either mutually destroy each other, 
 r their young fall victims to some other beast of prey. 
 VOL. Il. 
 
158 SEPTEMBER XXIII. 
 
 For this reason nature has endowed the weakest anim 
 with so much industry, and so many means of defence 
 They have instinct, swiftness, address, and cunning, 
 counterbalance the strength of their enemies. Can a 
 one behold this without acknowledging the infinite w 
 dom of the Creator, and confessing that this contir 
 warfare, which at first appears so strange, is in fact 
 _real good? . 
 
 We should be still more convinced of this, if we we 
 better acquainted with the whole system of things, a 
 the connexion and relation each creature bears to an 
 ther. But this is a knowledge reserved for a fut 
 state, where the Divine perfections will be more clear 
 explained to us. Even in this world, we may, in som 
 measure, comprehend why the hostilities between ani- 
 mals are necessary. But we can by no means conceij 
 why men, whose nature is so much more noble, sho 
 be continually fomenting wars and divisions so destr 
 tive to their race. Alas! it must be confessed, to th 
 shame of humanity, that there are men who, even whil 
 they profess the Christian religion, are more ferociou 
 and destructive than the most savage beasts; their ho: 
 tilities are moré multiplied, and they use more dark and 
 secret means to destroy each other. Nothing is more 
 contrary to our destination than such conduct. The ix 
 tention of God is, that every man should make himsel 
 useful to his fellow-creatures, and, as much as possible 
 render their lives agreeable and happy; in a word, 
 them all the good offices in his power. Let us not a 
 pose his merciful views, but endeavour to live in peat 
 and harmony. Let animals, void of reason, persecuti 
 hate, and destroy one another; but let us follow the é 
 ample of our Saviour, in loving and endeavouring 
 make each other happy. 
 
 SEPTEMBER XXIII. 
 Moral Use of the Night. 
 
 Tue days begin to shorten, and the nights to lengthen; 
 and with this change many people are discontented. 
 Some wish that there were no nights at all, or at least 
 that they were all the year as short as in the months of 
 June and July. But such wishes are unreasonable, ai 
 
 betray our ignorance. If we would take the trouble to 
 
Moral Use of the Night. 159 
 
 on the advantages resulting from the vicissitudes — 
 and night, we should not be so hasty in our 
 nts; nor make such groundless complaints: 
 but rather acknowledge the use of night, and bless God 
 
 One circumstance which should make us feel the 
 advantage of the night, is, that it interrupts the 
 gurse of most vices, or at least of those which are most 
 fatal to society. Darkness obliges the wicked man to 
 some repose, and it gives some hours of relief to 
 ‘oppressed virtue. The fraudulent tradesman ceases 
 during the night to deceive his neighbour; and dark- 
 ness puts a stop to a thousand disorders. Were men to 
 be awake twice as long as they are at present, to what 
 3 a degree would wickedness increase! In yield- 
 it © vice, without interruption, transgressors would 
 7 ire a horrid familiarity with sin. In a word, we 
 ‘may allow, that the longer the nights are, the fewer 
 cr nes are conimitted in the space of twenty-four hours; 
 and 
 ve 
 
 this is undoubtedly not the least advantage we de- 
 from the night. 
 _ Of how much instruction and mental pleasure should 
 we be deprived if there were no night. Even the won- 
 ders of creation exhibited in the starry heavens, would 
 en be lost to us. But while succeeding nights display 
 W€ magnificence of God in the stars, we may raise our 
 souls to Him in pious adoration. If every thing which- 
 reminds us of Deity be desirable, how ought we to love 
 the night, which so forcibly proclaims his perfections! 
 Did we pay proper attention te this subject, the longest 
 night, instead of appearing tedious, would prove equal= 
 ly mstractive and beneficial. Let us therefore contem- 
 plate with seriousness, that immense theatre of created 
 wonders which the night exhibits to our view. A single 
 geod thought excited on such an occasion, a thought 
 which may sweeten our slumbers, and add pleasure to 
 our waking hours, may be of ihe greatest utility to our 
 understanding and to our heart. 
 Yo the lovers of calm and tranquil meditation, night 
 in general, a most desirable and advantageous time. 
 ie hurry and dissipation in which we usually pass the 
 ; leave us but little time te recoliect ourselves, or to” 
 ik seriously of our duties:. but the tranguillity of 
 t invites to that apap employment. We may 
 Z 
 
 * 
 
160 SEPTEMBER XXIV. x 
 
 then, without interruption, commune with our hear! 
 and acquire the most important knowledge—the 
 ledge of ourselves. The soul may collect all its force 
 and direct them towards objects which concern its ev 
 lasting happiness. We may then banish the ill impr 
 sions received from the world, and strengthen our mi 
 against the seducing examples of the age. This is t! 
 season for reflecting on death, and its important cons 
 quences. The tranquil solitude of the closet is favou 
 able to religious thoughts, and inspires us more a 
 more with a desire to indulge them. 
 May all the nights we spend on this terraqueo 
 globe be sanctified by these salutary reflections! The 
 instead of repining at the vicissitudes of day and nig 
 we shall adore our Maker for them, and bless the seas 
 in which we have become acquainted with our own n 
 ture, the glory of God, and the things which pertain 
 our eternal peace. " 
 
 SEPTEMBER XXIV. 
 Man’s Indifference to the Works of Nature. 
 
 Wnuy are men, generally speaking, so indifferent to the 
 works of God in nature? An answer to this questi 
 may give rise to many important reflections. 
 
 ‘The first cause of this indifference is inattention. W 
 are so accustomed to the beauties of nature, that 
 neglect to admire the impress of their Creator’s wisdon 
 and are too unmindful of the numerous advantages W 
 derive from them. Too many people resemble the st 
 pid beast that feeds upon the grass, and drinks of th 
 cooling stream, without reflecting on the wisdom whic 
 ordained, -or the hand which bestows. these blessing 
 Thus men, though endowed with the most excellent k 
 culties, by which they are enabled to enjoy a greate 
 share of nature’s blessings, seldom think of the sour 
 whence they flow: and even when God’s goodness an 
 wisdom are most evidently visible, they are little affect. 
 ed, because they are used to them: habit renders them 
 insensible and indifferent, instead of exciting their at 
 miration and gratitude. a 
 
 A second cause of this. reprehensible indifference 
 many people is ignorance. How many are there who 
 are wholly unacquainted with the most common object 
 
; Man's Indifference to the Works of ‘Nature: 161 
 
 They every day behold the sun rise and set; their mea-- 
 dows are moistened sometimes with rain or dew, and 
 sonietimes with snow. The most wonderful revolutions . 
 happen before their eyes every spring :—but they do not 
 take the trouble to inquire into the causes and purposes 
 of these several phenomena: and, in that respect, live 
 in the most profound ignorance. It is true, that there 
 are many things which will ever be incomprehensible 
 to us, however diligently we may study them; and we 
 are never more sensible of the limited state of our know- 
 ledge than when we undertake to search into the opera- 
 tions of nature. But we may at least acquire a histori-- 
 cal knowledge of it; and the lowest peasant may com- 
 prehend how it happens that the seed which he sows in 
 the ground shoots up into a plant, if he will take the- 
 trouble to inform himself of it. 
 Private interest may be considered as a third cause 
 which renders men indifferent to the works of nature. 
 lam convinced there would be more attentive obser- 
 vers of nature, if, for example, the spider spun threads 
 of gold, if lobsters contained pearls, or if the flowers of ' 
 field could make old people young. We generally 
 value things according to our interest or fancy; while 
 all other objects are deemed unworthy our attention. 
 Our self-love is so unreasonable, and we know so little 
 of our real interest, that we often despise what is of the 
 greatest -utility. Corn, for instance, is indispensably 
 ecessary to our subsistence, and yet we behold entire 
 fields covered with this useful production of nature, 
 without attending to it. 
 
 _ A fourth cause which militates against the contem-- 
 plation of nature is indolence. People are too fond of” 
 repose to devote even a few hours to reflections on the 
 starry heavens. They cannot quit their beds early e- 
 nough to behold the sun rise.. They would dread the 
 fatigue of stooping towards the ground, to observe what 
 admirable art there appears in the formation of the grass. . 
 And yet these people, so fond of their ease, are full of | 
 zeal and activity when the indulgence of their passions 
 % the obiect. It would be a sort of martyrdom to the 
 ntemperate man, of to the gamester, to be obliged to 
 evote to the contemplation of a beautiful starry sky, 
 1é hours he passes in gaming and drinking. A man. 
 ho loves walking, and ve would go many miles on, 
 3 
 
162 SEPTEMBER XXV. Tf, 
 
 foot to see a friend, would be out of humour if desi 
 to go two miles to observe some singularity of ne 
 
 A fifth and awful cause of the negleet of Gad’s 
 is a principle of irreligion. There are too many Ww 
 have no wish to know the greatness of their Maker; ¥ 
 have no taste for piety, nor the duties it prescribes. - 
 praise and love God, and to acknowledge his blessin, 
 would be painful and irksome tasks to them. We hw 
 too much reason to believe that this is one of the pr 
 cipal causes of the indifference of mankind to the bea 
 ties of nature. If they valued the knowledge of G 
 above all other things, they would eagerly and willin 
 ly seize every opportunity of improving and increasi 
 ‘that knowledge. a 
 
 Two thirds, probably, of mankind may be ranked 
 mongst the classes I have mentioned. Would to G 
 we could feel haw ill it becomes men to be insensible 
 the works of the Creator, and how by this conduct th 
 debase themselves below the very brutes! Have 4 
 eyes, and shall we not contemplate the wonders w 
 surround us on every side?, Have we ears, and shi 
 we not listen to the hymns which every part of the ¢ 
 ation chants to the praise of the Creator? Do we w 
 to contemplate Jehovah in the kingdom of his glo 
 and yet refuse to consider his works in the scenes of n 
 ture? Let us henceforth renounce so criminal an i 
 difference, and endeavour to feel a portion of that 
 cred pleasure which penetrated the heart of Day 
 when he reflected on the works, the magnificence, 2 
 
 the glory of his God. “ 
 SEPTEMBER XXV. 
 
 Various Nociurnal Meteors. ' 
 
 ’ In serene weather, we often observe a circular light, @1 
 luminous ring, round the moon, which is called a ha 
 _ or crown. Its outline has sometimes the faint colo 
 
 of the rainbow. The moon is in the middle of this rin 
 and the intermediate space is generally darker than) 
 rest of the sky. When the moon is at the full, and 
 levated above the horizon, the ring appears most lum 
 nous, and is often of a considerable size. It must m 
 be imagined that this circle is really round the moc 
 We must seek the cause of it in our own atmosphere, 
 
‘ Various Nocturnal Meteors. 163 
 f 
 _ where the vapours occasion a refraction of the rays of 
 light which. penetrate through them, and. produce this 
 _ effect. 
 _ False moons, called parasalenes, are sometimes seen 
 near the real moon, and appear nearly as large, but 
 their light is paler. They are generally accompanied 
 _ by circles, some of which are coloured like the rainbow, 
 while others are white, and others have long luminous 
 tails. All these phenomena, however, are but illusions 
 _ produced by refraction. The light of the moon falling on 
 aqueous, and often on frozen. vapours, is variously re- 
 fracted, and separates into coloured rays, which, reach- 
 | ing our eyes, double the image of the moon. Some- 
 times (though this occurs but seldom) we see by moon- 
 light, after a heavy rain, a:lunar rainbow with the same. 
 colours as the solar rainbow, except that.they are much 
 fainter. This meteor is also occasioned. by refraction. 
 When sulphureous.and other vapours take.fire in the 
 higher atmosphere, we often. observe streaks of light 
 dart. swiftly like rockets. When these vapours collect 
 ina mass, take fire, and fall down, we think we see lit- 
 | tle balls of fire fall from the sky, and as, at that distance, 
 _ they appear as large as a star, they are, for this reason, 
 called falling stars.. The common people fancy they are. 
 real stars, changing their place, to relax, or at least to 
 purify themselves. Sometimes these imaginary stars 
 are very brilliant, and beautifully coloured; slowly des- 
 eending, and still acquiring new lustre, till at last they 
 ‘are extinguished among the vapours of the lower atmo-, 
 sphere, and fall‘on the ground, where it is said they. 
 leave a slimy, gluey matter behind them. ‘Great balls 
 _ of fire have also been seen, more luminous than the full 
 “moon, and some of them have trains of light. These 
 _are probably sulphureous and nitrous vapours which ac- 
 cumulate and take fire, for they generally traverse the 
 air with great rapidity, and burst at-last with a great 
 oise. Sometimes, when the inflammable particles are 
 of a very different- nature, they disperse without noise, 
 in the upper regions of the atmosphere. 
 The little flashes which are often seen in the summer 
 “evenings, after great heats, are-produced by the vapours 
 in the atmosphere, which are less visible because they 
 are higher up. This meteor is distinguished from real 
 lightning by its never being accompanied with thunder ; 
 
 | 
 
 | 
 
 —— ee ee 
 
 et ge ee ee ee 
 
164 SEPTEMBER XXV. 
 
 or rather, these flashes are reflections of lightning whie 
 is at too great a distance for us to hear the clap of thu 
 der with which it is accompanied. The flying dr 
 the dancing goat, and the burning beam, with many othe 
 meteors, owe their odd names to their singular appeat 
 ance. ‘They are nothing but gross and viscuous exhg 
 lations, which ferment in the moist regions of the lowe 
 air, and which, being pressed in different directions b 
 the agitated atmosphere, assume these various forms t 
 which people give extraordinary names. Several nati 
 ralists have imitated these phenomena in miniature, | 
 mixing certain substances together. 
 Of all the nocturnal appearances, none is more ft 
 markable or splendid than the Aurora Borealis. It 
 generally observed from the beginning of autumn t 
 spring, when the weather is calm andiserene, and whe 
 the moon does not give much light. The Aurora Bo 
 realis is not always the same. It is usually towar¢ 
 midnight, that.a light appears. resembling the dawn o 
 day. Sometimes we observe streaks of light, and whit 
 and luminous clouds, ina coatinual motion. — But whe 
 this meteor is to rise in all its glory, we generally se 
 (if the weather be calm and clear), towards the nort 
 a black and thick cloud, edged on the upper surfa 
 witha white luminous border, whence dart rays, br 
 liant sparks, and resplendent pillars, which, as they ris 
 every moment grow yellow-and red; afterwards meet 
 unite, and form luminous thick clouds; which terminat 
 at last in pillars of all colours, white, blue, orange, : 
 the finest purple: whence rays of light are continua! 
 shooting out. 7 
 Such is the magnificence of God, that even the nigh 
 proclaims his greatness and majesty. How'then can w 
 complain of the increasing length of the nights, whe 
 they exhibit such sublime spectacles, calculated to ex 
 cite our admiration, and to improve our hearts? Th 
 phenomena we have been contemplating render the lon 
 -nights of the northern nations not only supportable, ba 
 pleasing and brilliant; and though our nights are com: 
 siderably shorter, they might afford us diversified plea: 
 sures were we properly attentive to the grandeur of thei 
 scenes. May we henceforth accustom ourselves to raise 
 our eyes and our souls to heaven, and soar, in piow 
 thought, beyond moons and stars, to our blessed Crea 
 
Nature displayed. 165 
 
 tor. May we reflect upon his grandeur, and adore him 
 in reverential silence, when the solemnity of night an- 
 nounces his power. Jehovahis great. The night pro- 
 claims his wisdom and his love. The moon revolving in 
 the plains of ether displays his majesty. The host of 
 stars which glitter in the firmament celebrate his praise ; 
 and the mild light of the Aurora Borealis discovers the 
 rich perfections of our God. 
 
 SEPTEMBER XXVI. 
 Nature displayed. 
 
 Happy the man, whose genius, rising above the mere 
 
 atification of his senses, prompts him to inquire, with 
 the assistance of reason, into the true cause of things, 
 and to penetrate the dark veil which conceals from mor- 
 tals the mysteries of nature! How insensible are man- 
 kind! They stop to observe the course ofa river. Su- 
 pinely lying on the green tur!, they contemplate the 
 clear stream murmuring as it flows, the coolness of the 
 water, the enamelled field, the verdure of its banks; e- 
 very thing enchants their sight: but few know how to 
 enjoy a still greater pleasure, to trace the source itself 
 of these waters, the inexhaustible reservoir whence they 
 proceed. Thus we generally look only on the outside 
 of things. Our senses are charmed, but our curiosity 
 is not excited. Content with admiring the beauty of 
 objects, we scarcely skim the surface. Let us go deep- 
 er; let us dare to open a path to the recesses of nature. 
 How noble is it to reflect on the principles of things, to 
 ontemplate their essence! It is to this that the wise 
 an soars ; all the rest is but the trifling amusement of 
 the vulear. It would be totally impossible to reckon all 
 he blessings of nature bestowed upon us; but let us en- 
 eavour to comprehend, in some degree, how much we 
 we to our sovereign Benefactor. Tor this purpose, let 
 s look into the places of our several enjoyments, and 
 first into our houses, and see what productions of the 
 arth are there presented to us. The flewers which ap- 
 ear but a mere amusement, are lovely ornaments to our 
 etreats, and by the sweets they exhale, and their beau- 
 iful colours, charm and delight us ‘The orchards and 
 itchen gardens are not so pleasing to the eye, but they 
 ompensate by their utility, and produce successions af 
 
166 SEPTEMBER XXVI. 
 
 excellent provisions for our tables during the wh 
 year, a thousand times more wholesome than those 
 vented by art to excite, Or (more properly speaking 
 corrupt, our taste. Let us go a little farther; 
 quit the confinement of towns and villages, to enjoy} 
 spacious fields where the industry of man produces: 
 staff of life, that bread which supports the whole hum 
 species. The earth faithfully rewards the farmer’s 6 
 and returns with incredible usury all that is laid out) 
 on it. Unimpaired by age, it constantly resumes | 
 charms of spring, and after having produced the m 
 plentiful harvest, a winter’s rest entirely repairs its le 
 es. Near those fields we may see here and there tf 
 ren hills, hanging grounds, where the plough canne 
 used, and from which one might suppose nothing cot 
 be expected; but, behold! this sterile soil beco 
 clothed with verdure, and though the trees which gr 
 upon it are useless as timber, the sand that nourist 
 them, moistened with a little dew, will soon force th 
 to produce innumerable clusters of grapes, filled witl 
 rich juice, which affords a liquor extremely delic¢; 
 and at the same time so strong, that it preserves its p 
 fection for many years, and bears long sea voyages 
 the roughest conveyance to countries where nature f 
 not furnished vines. i 
 Let us now enter into the woods. The light of day 
 obscured by the thick foliage of the stately trees, 1 
 pleasing coolness of the air, and the profound silen 
 that reigns around, combine to impress on them a str 
 ing air of solemn magnificence. What human industh 
 could suffice to plant, to water, and to protect those 
 trees which are so indispensably necessary for our cé¢ 
 fort and convenience? He who created them for om 
 benefit is their sole guardian and protector. 
 Let us now glance at our meads and pastures. It i 
 there that nature has shown most benevolence to ma 
 and that the useful and beautiful are most hapily ble 
 ed. We behold them enamelled with flowers, and | 
 sorts of herbs, which not only serve as pasture for at 
 mals, but many of them are delightful to us, and fi 
 nish us with excellent medicines. The chief use, 
 ever, of meadows and fields is to feed those anim 
 which are most essential to us. How beautiful an ¢ 
 ject, how great an ornament to nature, is a river! 
 
- Amphibious Animals. | 167 
 
 Whether we stop to reflect upon its motion, or its uti- 
 ity, or whether we wish to trace its origin, the beauty 
 course charms us, the multitude of blessings it af- 
 ords fills us with gratitude, and the obscurity of its 
 raises our admiration. » It is at first but a little 
 ream trickling down a hill, and which the smallest 
 : may divert from its course: but soon, the over- 
 lowing-of lakes, the melting of snow, and the falling of 
 Joods, enlarge it. It then makes itself a bed, and flows 
 copiously into it ; it enriches the fisherman’s hut, and 
 he labourer’s dwelling, and after having been the or- 
 mament and delight of the country, it flows in silent 
 najesty towards the cities, bearing on its dimpled bo- 
 om the rich treasures of commerce. ‘ The river of 
 zod is full of water ;”’ thousands of springs burst from 
 he bosom of the earth, and the vast ocean embracing 
 t, absorbs the whole. : 
 : ‘The interior of our globe, like a vast magazine, con- 
 ains, for our different uses, a variety of oleaginous jui- 
 2es, fertilizing salts, stones, metals, minerals, &c. 
 Lastly, the very air we respire is replete with bless- 
 ngs. The clouds which collect there, pour upon us 
 hese fruitful rains, which “ water our furrows, and 
 nake them soft, and which cause the land to flow with 
 nilk and honey.”? The same air, besides giving free 
 e to those winds which sweep away contagion, 
 ‘ransmits also this beneficial light, these salubrious rays, 
 hich illumine, warm, and quicken all nature.—Here 
 et us pause, and adore that beneficent, that Almighty 
 and, that only inexhaustible source, whence flow all 
 our blessings. Let us endeavour to anticipate those 
 which are eternal; for they as much surpass the pre- 
 sent, as the heavens are beyond the earth, eternity be- 
 a time, or the Creator beyond the creature. 
 
 _ SEPTEMBER XXVIL 
 f : Amphibious Animals. 
 
 SIDES quadrupeds, birds, and fish, there are animals 
 which can exist either on the Jand, or in the water; and, 
 i this account, they are called amphibious. ‘These are 
 ll cold-blooded, and have something forbidding in their 
 ook and figure. They have also, in general, adark and 
 
 agreeable colour, a hoarse voice, and an offensive 
 
170 SEPTEMBER XXVIII. 
 
 7 
 
 blow with a stick upon the back kills them almost insta 
 ly. In addition to those remarks we may observe, it wot 
 be extremely unjust to dwell on the mischiefs which the: 
 creatures may occasion, without considering the adva 
 tages they procure us. Some amphibious animals ¢ 
 ford excellent food; others supply us with medicamen 
 and the shell of the tortoise is useful for a variety 
 purposes. In a word, the wisdom and goodness of Go 
 are as conspicuous here as in all other parts of the ex 
 ation. To reflect upon his perfections, to admire an 
 adore them, is our duty on beholding those creatu: 
 which appear to us to be hurtful. But it can never b 
 come us to condemn or murmur at his plans. Our t 
 derstandings are much too limited to be able to discoy 
 the use for which these creatures are designed. 
 
 SEPTEMBER XXVIII. 
 The Perfection of God’s Works. 
 
 Wuat can equal the perfection of God’s works, or w 
 can describe the Almighty power displayed in them 
 Our admiration is not merely excited by their mag 
 tude, number, and variety ; but each particular wor! 
 formed with such infinite skill, each is so perfect in its 
 kind, and the most minute production so exact and 
 gular, as to proclaim the greatness and unlimited know- 
 ledge of their Author. We are with reason astonished 
 at the different arts lately invented, by means of which 
 things are accomplished that would have appeared § 
 pernatural to our ancestors. We measure the hei 
 breadth, and depth of bodies; we know the orbits of 
 stars, and direct the course of rivers; we can rais 
 compress waters; construct habitations to float upon t 
 seas; and accomplish many other works which doh 
 nour to the human understanding. But what are all tl 
 inventions of men, their most magnificent and beautifu 
 undertakings, in comparison with the least of the work 
 of God? How faint, how imperfect the imitation! Ho 
 much beneath the original is the copy! Let the mos 
 eminent artist endeavour with all his powers to give t 
 his work a pleasing and useful form; let him finish 
 polish it with all imaginable care, and after all his tr 
 . ble, all his industry and endeavours, let him look at 
 masterpiece through a microscope, and see how coat 
 ill shaped, and rough it will appear; how much war 
 
|  . The Perfection of God's Works. 17k 
 2 arity and proportion he will discover in it! But 
 whether we examine the works of the Almighty with the 
 naked eye, or with the best glasses, we shall find them 
 ly wonderful and beautiful. Perhaps through the 
 microscope they will appear so different, that we'should 
 not think them what we had seen with the naked eye,. 
 but we shall ever find exquisite order, exactness, and 
 etry, in each form. 
 _ Such is the prerogative of unlimited power, that all 
 his works are regular and in perfect proportion. From 
 the greatest to the least a wonderful order reigns through- 
 out. Allis in such perfect harmony, all so well connect- 
 
 ed, that no void appears. In this immense chain of cre- 
 ated beings, no link is wanting; nothing is useless ; all 
 is as necessary to the perfection of the whole as each 
 : separate part is in itself complete and perfect. Can we’ 
 describe the innumerable beauties, the various charms, 
 the pleasing mixture of colours, the different hues, and 
 all the ornaments of the fields, the valleys, the mount- 
 | 4ins, the forests, plants, or flowers? Is there any work 
 ‘of God which has not its peculiar and distinct beauty ? 
 ls not that which is most useful at the same time most 
 | beautiful? What an astonishing variety of forms, fi- 
 | gures, and sizes do we behold among inanimate crea- 
 E and in animated nature! This diversity is still 
 
 i 
 
 more striking; though each is perfect, and nothing de- 
 ficient. or exuberant can be found in either. How great, 
 therefore, must He be who by a single act of his will, 
 has called all these creatures into existence! But it is 
 not necessary to go back to that time, when at his word 
 every being was brought forth from nothing, and though 
 ' created in an instant, yet in a state of perfection. Do 
 | we not each spring behold a new creation? What can 
 be more wonderful than the revolutions of the seasons? 
 The valleys, the fields, the forests, all die in some de- 
 gree towards autumn; and nature is stripped of its or-: 
 naments in winter. All animals languish; the birds re- 
 tire and cease to sing: every place becomes a desert ; 
 and nature appears benumbed and insensible. But in 
 | the mean time a divine Power acts in secret, and ]abours 
 for the renewal of nature, unobserved by us. Anima- 
 | tion is restored, and all things are preparing for a sort 
 of résurrection. ; 
 How can we so frequently behold this magnificent 
 PD. 
 
t72 SEPTEMBER XXTX. _ 
 
 scene, without adoring, with the most profound ven 
 ration, the power and glory of God? How can w 
 ver breathe the cool refreshing air, without being ledt 
 _such reflections? Does not God proclaim hims 
 
 throughout all nature, as well as by revelation? I 
 I never repose under the shade of a tufted tree, orb 
 hold a meadow enamelled with flowers, a beautiful 1 
 rest, or a field of waving corn; may I never gathe 
 flower, or enter a garden; without remembering that 
 is God who gives foliage to the tree, beauty and p 
 fume to the flowers, and a pleasing verdure to the woo 
 and meads. Struck with admiration, penetrated wil 
 gratitude, I shall then exclaim, ** O Lord! how mai 
 fold are thy works!-in wisdom thou hast made them al 
 the earth is full of thy goodness.’ ; 
 
 SEPTEMBER XXIX. 
 Fruit. 
 
 Tus is the happy season in which Divine goodneas | 
 vishes every kind of fruit upon us in rich abundane 
 The charms of summer give place to more solid enjoy 
 ments. The boughs of the apple-tree bend under th 
 weight of that golden fruit, the beauty of which is sti 
 heightened by its purple streaks. The melting p 
 the plum sweet as honey, display their charms, and’s 
 to invite the hand of their master. Should we not | 
 altogether inexcusable, if, at the sight of all these bles 
 ings, derived from the immediate munificence of Got 
 we did not endeavour to sanctify the pleasures of autum 
 by appropriate reflections on the kindness of our M 
 ker? With how much wisdom has the Creator distr 
 buted fruits for the different seasons! In general, 
 in summer and autumn that nature offers us these 
 presents; but by the assistance of art, we are also fg 
 voured with them in winter and spring, and our tables 
 may be furnished with certain kinds through the who 
 course of the year. From the beginning of June, n 
 ‘ture of herself presents us with raspberries, goosebe 
 ries, and common cherries. The month of July ft 
 nishes us with cherries, peaches, apricots, and som 
 kinds of pears. August seems rather to lavish than ga 
 its fruits; figs, late cherries, and a variety of excellé 
 pears, September provides us with some grapes, WI 
 
Fruit. 173 
 
 "ter pears, and apples. The gifts which October bestows, 
 _ are several sorts of pears, apples, and the delicious fruit 
 _ of the vine. 
 | ‘It is with this wise economy that nature measures out 
 ' and distributes her gifts; on the one hand, that we may 
 ' not be overloaded with too great an abundance; and on 
 | the other that we may still have a successive variety of | 
 enjoyments. It is true, that in proportion as we advance 
 - toward winter, the number of delicious fruits is greatly 
 ' diminished ; but art. has taught us to preserve some e~ 
 yen for this season. God did not think proper to dis- 
 yense with man’s trouble for such purposes, as it was a 
 | mean to lead him to an active and laborious life. For 
 | this reason he distributed his blessings in such various 
 | ways; and ordained that they should spoil, or lose their 
 | value, if they were not properly attended to. 
 ' How abundantly has God distributed fruit to us!— - 
 _ Notwithstanding the continual ravages of birds and in- 
 | sects, there still remains a sufficient quantity to compen- 
 ‘satefor this loss. Calculate, if possible, the fruit which 
 ' only a hundred trees bear in a favourable year, and you 
 Lee be astonished at the prodigious increase. What 
 
 was the design of such abundance? If the preservation 
 ‘and propagation of trees were the only intention of it, 
 ‘much less certainly would answer that end. It is there- 
 fore evident that the Creator designed to provide food 
 “for man, and in particular for the poor. In bestowing 
 | so much fruit, he has furnished them with an easy mode 
 of subsistence: which is at the same time nourishing, 
 'salubrious, and so pleasing, that they have no reason . 
 | to envy the rich their far-fetched dainties, so often pre- - 
 judicial to health. 
 
 |_ There is scarcely-any food more nourishing than fruit. 
 lt was witha beneficent view that Providence gave them : 
 to us in a season when they are not only pleasing and 
 \Tefreshing to our.palate, but also excellent in a medi- 
 ‘eal way. Apples come seasonably @uring the heat of © 
 Summer, because they temper the warmth of the blood, 
 and cool the stomach and intestines. Plums have an 
 acid sweetness, with an oily softening juice, which may 
 make them useful in many cases: they gently open the 
 body, and correct the acrid humours which so often oc- - 
 casion inflammatory disorders. If some fruits, such as 
 peaches, apricots, and sie are found to be unwhole- - 
 Ou 
 
 Se - ee — 
 
174 SEPTEMBER XXX. _ ia 
 some, it is a proof they were not designed for our ¢ 
 mate, or at least for persons who cannot guard again 
 the bad effects of too cold fruit, by wine or aromati 
 
 Nothing can be more delicious than fruits. Each so 
 has a flavour. peculiar to itself; and this variety rende 
 ‘them doubly pleasing. Thus God, like a tender fathe 
 provides not only for the support, ‘put also for the | pl 
 sure of his children. f 
 
 While possessing and enjoying the various fruit 
 which we have been speaking, let us never forge 
 bounty of that adorable Being who has dispensed the 
 but rather let us consider it our most sacred duty 
 consecrate ourselves to the service of this blessed p 
 rent. How pure and exalted will our felicity be, if our 
 lives are but sincerely devoted to him! What refine 
 pleasures shall we experience in his service here, an 
 what a lively hope may we indulge of enjoying his smiles 
 hereafter! 
 
 ee XXX. 
 Invitation to praise God. 
 
 JEHOVAH is great; innumerable heavens form his pi 
 vilion; he rides on the thunder-cloud as in a chari¢ 
 and the lightning walketh by his side. 
 The lustre of the morning is buit the reflection of a 
 hem of his. garment; when he goeth forth in majestic 
 splendor, the light of the sun is eclipsed. 
 Praise the Almighty God, ye luminaries of his | p 
 Jace ; ye solar rays flame to his glory. 
 Earth, lift up thy voice and sing his praise. Ce 
 brate him thou sea; foam to his honour ye billo vS: 
 praise him all ye rivers.. 
 Ye lions of the forest roar to his glory; sing unto him 
 ye feathered inhabitants of the air: reiterate his praises 
 ye echoes. Let universal nature pour forth her sweet 
 est notes, in concert, to the honour of his name. 
 And thou; O man, lord of this lower world,. ming 
 
 _ thy thanksgivings with the general harmony. ‘Jehor 
 has done more for thy happiness than for all the re 
 He has given thee an immortal spirit; which enab 
 thee to comprehend the structure of the universe, and 
 to become acquainted with the springs of nature. 
 Exalt the Lord for thy own salvation, and remember 
 
Hynm to the: Praise of God: 14S 
 
 with humble reverence that thy feeble praises are not 
 ‘requisite to his happiness. When thou soarest up to 
 him, all low desires.and base inclinations shall leave thy. 
 heart. 
 
 _ Praise him when the sun arises from his bed, paint- 
 ing the east with gold and purple; praise him when the 
 departing beams of that luminary. faintly irradiate the 
 western horizon. To the voice of universal nature let 
 the voice of.thy gratitude be at all times united. 
 
 Praise him in the rainy and in the dry seasons; in the 
 
 calm and in the tempest; when drifting snows descend, 
 when the streams and rivers are blocked up with ice, 
 and when the earth is clothed with verdure, and ena-. 
 -melled with flowers.. 
 
 OCTOBER: Tf. 
 Hymn to the Praise of God. 
 
 Axx the heavenly host glorify the power and majesty of > 
 e Creator, and all the globes which roll in the im- 
 mense expanse celebrate the wisdom of his works. The 
 Sea, the mountains, and the woods, created by a single 
 ‘act of his will, are the harbingers of his love, the heralds 
 of his power. Shall I alone be silent? Shall I not at- 
 
 tempt to offer up thanksgiving though the pure spirits . 
 themselves can offer but imperfect praise? By what 
 ‘power do these millions of suns shine with so much 
 splendor ? Who directs the wonderful course of the 
 spheres? What chain unites them? What force ani- 
 “Mates them? It is thy breath, O Lord! It is thy Al- 
 mighty word. -Thou art all in all. Thou calledst the 
 worlds, and they obeyed. Then was our globe produc- 
 ed. The birds and the fish, the cattle and the wild 
 beasts of the wood, and lastly man himself, came to in- 
 habit it, and rejoice. Our eyes are gladdened with a 
 
 variety of cheerful scenes. Sometimes they wander o- 
 | ver the green field, or contemplate forests, whose lofty 
 trees seem to touch the clouds. Semetimes they behold 
 the dew-bespangled flowers, and trace the course of the 
 limpid stream in which the trees are reflected. In or- 
 | der to break the force of the wind, and at the same time 
 | to afford us an enchanting scene, the mountains rise up, 
 whence burst forth the salutary springs. 
 At thy command, O God, the parched valley is wa-_. 
 
176 OCTOBER Il. 
 
 tered with rain and dew, and the air is cooled by t 
 refreshing zephyr. It is thy hand which spreads a gree 
 carpet under our feet, which gilds the ears of corn, a 
 tinges the grapes with their purple hue; and when ec 
 descends to benumb all nature, thou coverest the eat 
 with a veil of dazzling whiteness. Through thee t 
 mind of man penetrates even to the starry heavens. 
 Through thee he knows the past, and can distingui 
 falsehood from truth, and appearance from reality. 
 Through thee it is that he judges, desires, or fears ; th 
 he escapes from death and from the grave—Lord! 
 will ever acknowledge thy greatness. Thou who reade 
 my heart, accept the emotions it feels, though unab 
 to express them. / 
 
 OCTOBER It.. 
 The Effects of Fires 
 
 NotiincG in nature can exceed the violence of fire 
 nor can we, without astonishment, reflect on the effec 
 it produces, and the extreme swiftness of its operation: 
 But how few are there who attend to its effects, or thin 
 them worth observation, though we daily experience th 
 great utility of fire in domestic life! Perhaps this is th 
 reason we are generally inattentive to it. We ought 
 however, to remember this blessing, and if possible, | 
 reflection, learn to appreciate its true value. _ 
 
 One effect of fire familiar to every one, is, that of d 
 lating such bodies as are exposed to its influence. | 
 piece of’ iron made to fit a hole in a plate of metal, § 
 that it easily passes through when cold, being heatet 
 cannot be made to enter, but when suffered to cool, i 
 passes into the hole with the same facility as at firs! 
 This dilation produced by fire is still more visible 
 fluid bodies, such as wine, beer, and more particular 
 air. lf it were not for this property, the thermometet 
 by which we calculate the different degrees of hea 
 would be quite useless. Observe the effect of fire oni 
 animate and compact bodies: how soon it melts an 
 changes them, part into fluid matter, and part into a 
 solid of a different sort. It communicates fluidity to. 
 water, oil, fat, and to almost all metals. What renders 
 these bodies susceptible of this change is, that their 
 combination is more simple, and the parts which com. 
 
| The Effects of Fire. 177 
 
 them are more homogenea than in other bodies, 
 fore the fire penetrates the more easily into their 
 
 and sooner separates the parts. This also causes 
 such kind of substances to evaporate when the fire 
 
 eetrates in great quantity and with violence through 
 
 Some solid bodies undergo other sorts of changes. 
 Sand, flint, slate, and spar, vitrify in the fire; while 
 clay turns into stone. Marble, calcareous stones, and 
 chalk, turn into lime. The variety of these effects does 
 not proceed from the fire, but from the different proper- 
 ties of the matter upon which it acts. It may produce 
 three different effects upon the same body, that of melt- 
 ing, vitrifying, and reducing to lime, provided that the. 
 body possesses the three necessary properties of being 
 metallic, vitrifiable, and calcareous. Thus fire of itself 
 
 oduces nothing new; it only developes in bodies those 
 
 inciples which before its action were not perceptible. 
 bp nm fluids fire produces two effects. It makes them 
 bal, and reduces them to vapours. These vapours are 
 formed of the most subtle parts of the fluid joined with 
 particles of fire; and they ascend in the air, because 
 ey are specifically lighter than that fluid. 
 
 In living creatures fire produces the sensation of heat 
 
 n every part of the body. Without this element the 
 
 ife of man could not be preserved ; as a certain degree 
 
 of heat is requisite to give vitality and circulation to the 
 
 od. For this purpose we are constantly inhaling 
 resh air, which always contains the matter of heat, and 
 imparts it to the blood in the lungs, while this organ of 
 
 respiration serves to expel the air that has lost its vivi- 
 ying power. — . 
 
 These reflections should confirm in our minds the im- 
 ortant truth, that God has in every instance promoted 
 le welfare of mankind, and that he has placed proofs: 
 
 of his love every where before our eyes. How many 
 
 advantages accrue to us from the effects of fire! By 
 he union of fire and air the seasons are renewed, the 
 adisture of the soil and the health of man are preserv- 
 
 d. By means of fire, water is put in motion, without 
 
 which it would soon lose its fluidity. By the gentle 
 
 notion it keeps up in all organized bodies, it gradually 
 
 rings them to perfection. It preserves the branch m 
 ie bud, the plant in the seed, and the embryo. in the 
 
 . 
 
178 ‘CTOBER III. an 
 
 egg. It prepares our food, contributes to the formati 
 of metals, and renders them fit for use. In short, wh 
 we collect the several. properties of fire, we find 
 the Creator has, by its means, spread a multitude 
 blessings over our globe: a truth which ought to mé 
 great impression on our hearts, and teach us to love 
 Author of our being, and inspire us with content. 
 more we search into the nature of things, the more) 
 discover that all concur to the most perfect end. — 
 every where behold magnificent plans, admirable o: 
 and constant harmony between the parts and the wh: 
 between the ends and the means. 
 
 OCTOBER III. 
 Instinct and Industry of Birds. — 
 
 Birps have already afforded us many innocent pleas: 
 Now that the greatest part of these sprightly inhabita 
 of the air are going to disappear for a long time, let 
 once more reflect upon them with a lively sense of g 
 titude towards that God who is their Creater as wel 
 ours. How pleasing to contemplate the several instin 
 with which each bird is endowed! None of these 
 useless or superfluous. Each is indispensably necessary 
 to the preservation and well-being of the bird, and ough 
 to give us the most exalted ideas of nim for whose pl 
 sure all things were created. ) 
 When, in the first place, we reflect on the insti 
 which leads birds to move, we find in that alone 
 cause for admiration. Experience demonstrates — 
 bodily motions require something more than streng 
 or well-formed supple limbs: it is not till after mam 
 trials and falls, that we are able te keep the balance, t 
 walk with ease, to run, to jump, to sit down, and 
 and yet these motions seem much easier to bodies con 
 structed like ours than te birds. These animals hay 
 but two feet; the body does not rest perpendiculafly 
 upon them; it goes beyond the feet both before and be: 
 hind, and yet a chicken can stand upright, and begit 
 run as soon as it is emancipated from the egg.. 
 ducks which have been hatched by a hen, know thei 
 own element, and swim in the water without being 
 rected by example or instruction. Other birds ki 
 how to rise from their nests into the air; and to bale 
 
_ 
 — % 
 ‘ - Instinct and Industry of Birds. 179. 
 
 hemselves, and take their course, beating their wings 
 n equal measure: to stretch out their feet; spread their 
 ail, and make use. of it as an oar; and often take long 
 ourneys into countries very remote from the place of 
 heir nativity. How wonderful is the art which they 
 se to obtain a subsistence! an art which they bring into 
 he world with them! Certain birds, though not aqua- 
 ic, live upon fish; consequently they must have more 
 lifficulty in seizing their prey than water fowl. What 
 loes their instinct teach them in this case? They keep 
 n the shore of this foreign element, and when the fish 
 some in shoals, which they can perceive at a distance, 
 hey pursue them, skim on the surface, dive suddenly 
 nto the water and carry off a fish. Who gave to the 
 irds of prey their piercing sight, courage, and arms, 
 vithout which it would be impossible for them to sub- 
 ist? Who points out to the stork where it may find 
 rogs and insects, on which it feeds? It must carefully 
 earch for them in the meadows, as well as im the fur- 
 ‘ows of the field. It must even prolong its search till 
 Ting, when the other birds begin to awake. What 
 incredible strength the condor must have if it can, as is 
 aid, carry off a deer, and kill and devour anox! How 
 ean we reconcile with the savage nature of the quail, 
 that maternal instinct which makes her adopt little birds 
 of every species, and not only take them under her pro- 
 tection, but lavish the tenderest cares upon them? How 
 artfully does the crow conceal the prey she cannot de- 
 
 yur at once ; and when hunger again presses her, how 
 
 erfectly does she recollect the spot where she has re- 
 
 posited her treasure! 
 
 Much time might be devoted to observations of this 
 sort, without our being able to explain the chief myste- 
 ries which the instinct of birds presents to us; but the © - 
 ittle we do know is enough to employ, ia the most pleas- 
 ing manner, those whose hearts are disposed to con- 
 template the works of nature, and to raise them to still 
 obler pursuits. Let us not confine ourselves to the con- 
 sideration of the instincts and faculties of birds; which 
 ought to be regarded as a first step leading to more su- 
 iblime meditations. But let the admiration which they 
 lexcite in us, elevate our souls to God, from whom these 
 animals have received them; and who has compared 
 and combined so many things for the subsistence and 
 
 * 
 
180 OCTOBER IV. 
 
 increase of this part of his creation. Let us not say 
 that it is from Nature the birds learn the art and indus 
 try which so much surprises us in them. Nature sepa 
 rated from its Author, is an unmeaning word, 
 
 OCTOBER IV. 
 Animal Reproductions. 
 
 Here we discover a new scene of wonders, which a 
 pears totally to contradict the principles formerly adop 
 ed, in regard to the formation of organized bodies. — 
 was a long time supposed, that animals could only mul 
 tiply by eggs, or by producing young alive; but it 
 now found that there are some exceptions to this geni 
 ral rule. Certain animal bodies have been discovered 
 which may be divided into as many complete bodies 4 
 we please: because what is wanting to each piece whet 
 thus separated, is soon replaced. It is no longer doubt 
 ed that the polypus belongs to the class of animals 
 though it much resembles plants, both in form and mai 
 ner of propagating. The bodies of these creatures ma 
 be cut in any way, and into as many pieces as they are 
 cut there will be so many complete polypi. Even fron 
 , the skin, or smallest bit cut off from the bedy, one 
 more polypi will be produced ; and if the several litt 
 bits cut off are put together by the ends, they unite 
 and become one body. 
 
 This discovery has given rise to other experiments 
 and it has been found that the polypus is not the onl 
 animal which can live and grow, after having been ew 
 in pieces. The earth-worm also multiplies when cut if 
 two; to the tail part there grows a head, and the tw 
 pieces become two complete worms. After having ¢ 
 the worm in two, it would be to no purpose to put the 
 together in order to unite them, as they would not j 
 They remain for some time in the same state, or g 
 rather smaller; then there appears at the extrem 
 which was cut, a little whitish pimple, which gradu 
 enlarges and lengthens. Soon afterwards, the rings 
 seen, at first very close together, but insensibly exte 
 ing on all sides. New lungs, new heart, new stomach 
 and many other organs, are then formed with the rest 
 
 The following experiment may be made with snail 
 Cut off the head without going much below the tw 
 
Animal Reproductions. 181 
 
 rincipal horns, and at the end of a certain time the 
 head will grow again. It is the same with lobster’s 
 claws. If one of them be broken off, and the lobster 
 afterwards put into the water, it will in a certain time 
 get a new claw. Another wonderful experiment has 
 been made by M. Duhamel upon the leg of a chicken. 
 After the leg-bone, which had been broken, was per- 
 fectly recovered, and a callus completely formed, he 
 cut off all the flesh of that leg, to the very bone; those 
 parts grew again gradually, and the circulation of the 
 blood was again restored. 
 
 _ Weare convinced, then, that some animals are per= 
 
 petuated by being divided, and that certain. insects may 
 be produced in the same way as a branch shoots out of 
 the trunk of a tree; that they may be cut in pieces, and 
 that the smallest of these pieces will produce others: 
 that they may be turned inside out like a glove, and 
 still continue to live, eat, grow, and propagate. Here 
 @ question arises, which no naturalist -possibly can re- 
 solve in a satisfactory manner. How does it happen 
 that the parts cut off grow again? It must be presumed, 
 in this case, that the germ is spread over the whole bo- 
 dy; whereas, in other animals it is confined to certain 
 parts. The germ developes itself as soon as it receives 
 proper nourishment: thus, the cutting the animal only 
 
 pplies the germ with the nutritive juices, which would 
 have flowed elsewhere, had not their course been di- 
 verted'another way. Every part of a polypus or worm, 
 contains in itself, like the bud of a tree, all the intes- 
 tines necessary for the animal. These parts essential 
 
 life are dispersed over the whole body, and a circu- 
 ation is carried on even in the smallest particles. 
 
 As we cannot comprehend all the means which the 
 Author of-nature makes use of to dispense life and feel- 
 ig to such a prodigious multitude of beings, so we must 
 1ot assert that the animals above-mentioned are the on- 
 tle of prom to the general rule, in regard to their 
 
 ode of propagating. The fecundity of nature, or ra- 
 her the infinite wisdom of the Creator, surpasses all our 
 eak conceptions. The hand which formed the poly- 
 dus and the earth-worm has proved to us, that when 
 ecessary, it can make the animal form and constitu- 
 ion like simples or plants. It has done still more in o- 
 ed cases; and descending gradually, has arrived at 
 /SyOL. 11. 
 
182 OCTOBER VY. 
 
 ‘the utmost limits of animal nature. » But these limits 
 unknown tous. Let us, therefore, have a humble se: 
 of our ignorance: let us admire and adore the supreme 
 wisdom. Never is it more sublime than when we eg 
 no longer trace it. 
 Animal reproductions should remind us of the gr 
 change which shall take place in the day of resur 
 tion. What we now behold in miniature, will then ap- 
 pear in magnitude. What we now observe in other bo. 
 dies, we shall then experience in our own; and 
 smallest particles, then re-united, will form a body de 
 tined for the enjoyment of endless felicity. 
 
 OCTOBER V. 
 The Organs of Taste. 
 
 Our enjoyment would be considerably abridged if we 
 had not the faculty of distinguishing different kinds 6 
 food by our taste. The variety of fruits which nature 
 lavishes upon us at the present season, naturally le 
 us to reflect upon this subject. Our pleasure would be 
 greatly diminished if the pear, the apple, the plum, a1 
 the grape, had all the same flavour. The sense of taste 
 is therefore a gift which we owe to the goodness of Ge 
 and on which we ought gratefully to reflect. te 
 But by what means do we taste and distinguish ow 
 food? ‘The tongue is the principal organ; and that 
 may answer this end, the surface is covered with nér 
 vous papilla, which enables us to distinguish the flavour 
 ot the salts as they dissolve upon the tongue. That 
 taste depends upon the nerves, or sinews, may be ob- 
 served by dissecting the tongue; for, after taking 
 the membrane which covers it, there appears a numb 
 of roots where the nerves terminate; and it is exac 
 where the papillary nerves are found, that we have th 
 sense of taste; and where they are wanting our tast 
 fails. When we put highly flavoured things under ou 
 tongue, we are scarcely sensible of it till they are at 
 nuated; and till we put them on its surface; conseque 
 ly, the sense of taste is not in full force but where th 
 papillary nerves are in greatest. number, and this is the 
 part nearest the throat. To be further convinced tha 
 taste proceeds from the nerves, we need only examine 
 the tongue of a dog or a'cat. In these animals the pa 
 
The Organs of Tasie. 183- 
 
 nerves are situated towards the root of the tongue, 
 he fore part being destitute, whilst the palate is cover- 
 xd with them: hence the tip of the tongue, in these qua- 
 apts, is not susceptible of taste. 
 _ Let us continue our reflections on this interesting 
 subject. How ingeniously is this organ of taste form- 
 od, ail the parts of which no anatomist has yet been a- 
 ple to find out. Is it not a proof of the greatest wisdom, 
 hat the tongue should have more sinews and fibres than 
 other member, and that it should be full of little 
 pores, to let the salts and other savoury particles pene- 
 trate deeper, and in greater quantity, into the nervous 
 yapill2? Is it not an effect of the same wisdom, that 
 the nerves which extend as far as the palate and throat 
 9 assist mastication, should also reach to the eyes and 
 nose, as if to direct the organs of those senses to con- 
 ribute their. part towards distinguishing the taste of 
 food ? The duration of these organs is another subject 
 f admiration. Notwithstanding the delicacy of their 
 ‘onstruction, they last longer than instruments of iron 
 sr steel. Our clothes wear out, our flesh fades, and e- 
 ren our bones become dry ; but the sense of taste sur- 
 vives them all. What admirable designs may we disco- 
 yer even in the preparation of these organs! 
 QO man! thou art the only creature that knows he is 
 mdewed with senses: the only one capable of raising 
 umself to God, by the contemplation and use of these 
 culties. Endeavour therefore, by divine assistance, 
 o employ them preperly. If thou wilt not acknowledge 
 he wisdom and goodness of thy Creator, who is it that 
 pay homage to him? No creature enjoys what 
 hou dost, even in the sense of taste; for the animals 
 ave but few things on which they like to feed, where- 
 is thy God has prepared thee food equally various and’ 
 dundant. Reflect on all that the animal, vegetable, 
 nd even the mineral world affords: The heavens-and 
 e earth, the air and the ocean, offer us their tribute. 
 erever we cast our eyes, we behold the gifts of Je- 
 jovah. The summits of the mountains, the depths of 
 © pela and the beds of lakes and rivers, furnish us 
 ith aliments and pleasures... 
 It is reasonable that we should highly prize this gift. 
 ur Creator; but let us not esteem it beyond the de- 
 of the heayenly Donor. The sense of taste was- 
 
 Q2: 
 
184 OCTOBER Vf. 
 
 given ‘to us as a mean to conduct to the noblest end. 
 How absurd would it be to make our principal hap 
 ness consist in those pleasures, of which this sense is th 
 organ; and to live only to gratify the palate with 
 voury viands and delicious drinks. Let us not redue 
 ourselves to a level with the brute, whose chief deligl 
 consists in eating and drinking: but let us rememb 
 that we have an immortal soul, which cannot be satisf 
 ed with any thing less than the Supreme Good. 4 
 have a true relish for this, and earnestly to desire to t 
 nourished by it, constitutes the wisdom and felicit 
 the true Christian. 
 
 OCTOBER VI. 
 The Providence of God with respect to Natural Eve 
 
 Aut the events which happen in the heavens, upon # 
 earth, in the air, and in the sea, are regulated accor 
 ing to the laws prescribed by nature. But it would I 
 absurd not to acknowledge the particular providence 
 God, which directs natural things, and makes them co 
 cur with his own views. He makes use of natural ea 
 ses to chastise or reward mankind; and it is thus, fi 
 example, that by his command the air corrupts or fF 
 rifies, and the seasons become fruitful or barren. & 
 prevents or assists the designs of man, sometimes 
 winds or storms, and sometimes by the flux and refl 
 of the sea. It is true, that God does not in general. 
 terrupt the course of nature; but it is equally trae, th 
 nature cannot act forcibly without his assistanee at 
 concurrence. The parts of which the visible world 
 composed, have not the faculty to make use of thi 
 strength as they please. In the mean time, God ¢ 
 influence his creatures without interrupting the course 
 of nature. Fire, water, wind, and rain, have their n 
 tural causes and particular virtues; but God uses the 
 in a manner adapted to their nature, in order to ex 
 cute his designs. He makes use of the sun to warm) 
 earth, and to render it fruitful. He employs the 
 and wind to purify and cool the air; but it is always 
 such a manner, and such a degree, as best comport 
 with his own views. 
 A great part of the blessings and evils of this presei 
 life proceeds from the surrounding objects; but as Gi 
 
The inexhaustible Riches of Nature 185 
 
 interests himself in all which happens to mankind, he 
 must necessarily direct those objects, and influence all 
 nature. On this are founded the rewards and _punish- 
 ments of virtue and vice. Peace and prosperity crown 
 the one, while famine and pestilence scourge the other. 
 In a word, all natural causes are in the hand of God, 
 and are immediately under the guidance of his provi- 
 dence. Men themselves furnish an example of this, 
 whilst their industry is seen to triumph over nature! 
 They cannot indeed change the nature of things; but 
 they can make use of natural causes so as to produce 
 effects which would not have taken place without the 
 art and directions of man. Now, if God have in same - 
 measure subjected natural causes to human industry, 
 with how much mere reason may he reserve to himself 
 the government and direction of them! We may hence - 
 conclude how necessary it is, that a particular provi- 
 
 nee should watch over the guidance of the world.— . 
 Natural causes are certainly excellent instruments; but, | 
 in order to make them useful, they ought to be in the 
 hands of a wise Being. It would be unreasonable to. 
 wish that God should every moment change the laws of © 
 nature ; that, for example, if we fall into the fire, or in-. 
 to the water, we should not be consumed or drowned, 
 Neither is Divine Providence obliged to preserve us if 
 we shorten our lives through intemperance.. For God 
 is not obliged to work miracles.to save men from mis- 
 fortunes drawn upon themselves by their own irregula- 
 rities.. It is our duty to attribute to Providence all those 
 eles and beneficent dispensations which relieve our 
 
 nts and restore our hearts to peace: but all the dis- 
 orders of nature are at the same time effects of God’s 
 anger, which serve to punish mankind. On this truth 
 we found our prayers for the heavenly benediction, and. 
 dur thanksgivings for all the blessings which God be-- 
 stows upon us. oy 
 
 OCTOBER VIi. 
 The inexhaustzble Riches of Nature. 
 
 ee .. is so bountiful to us, so abundant in means to 
 apply the wants of every creature, and so rich in gifts, , 
 
 be they can no more be numbered than the drops of,’ 
 ater in the ocean, 
 
 : Q 3 
 : 
 
186 OCTOBER VII. 
 
 How many things does one man require during a life 
 of sixty years! How much is necessary for eatir 
 drinking, and clothing; for the conveniences, pleasure 
 amusements, and duties of society: without mentionin, 
 extraordinary cases and unforeseen accidents! Frony 
 the prince to the mendicant, in all situations, condi 
 tions, and ages of man; from infancy to old age, in & 
 very country, and according to the different manners of 
 the people, each man has his particular wants. Whi 
 suits one will not suit another, and they all require 
 ferent means of subsistence. Yet we find that natu 
 can answer all these demands, and that each individua 
 is supplied with all the necessaries of life. Since the 
 creation, the earth has never failed to open her bosom; 
 the mines have never been exhausted ; the sea affort 
 subsistence to numberless creatures; and the plants and 
 trees constantly bear seed, which shoot in due season, 
 and become fruitful. Beneficent nature varies her rich- 
 es, that one place may not be teo much exhausted; and 
 when some sorts of plants or fruits begin to diminish, o- 
 thers are produced; and it is so ordered, that ‘the in- 
 stinct and taste of mankind should lead them to ¢ 
 most abundant productions. 
 
 Nature is a wise economist, and takes care that no- 
 thing shall be Jost. Some advantage is derived from 
 every thing: insects serve as food for larger animal 
 which in their turn are useful to man. Tf they do not 
 afford us food, they furnish us with clothing, arms, ai 
 means of defence ; and if none of these, they at lea 
 supply us with salutary medicines. Even when diseases 
 sweep off some species of animals, nature repairs the 
 loss by the increase of others. Even dust, carrion, ant 
 
 corrupted matter, have their uses, either as food fori 
 sects, or for manure to enrich the earth. 
 
 How beautiful is nature! Her finest clothing requi 
 only light and colours. With these she is abundantly 
 provided ; and the scenes she presents are continually 
 varied, according to the points of view in which th 
 are seen. Here the eye is struck with the beauty of 
 form; there the ear is charmed with melodious sounds 
 and the smell is indulged with agreeable perfumes. In 
 other places, art adds new embellishments to nature by 
 a thousand ingenious works. ‘The gifts of nature are s¢ 
 abundant, that even those which are continually made 
 
Be allies — 
 
 Petrifactions. 187 
 
 use of never fail. Her riches are spread over the whole 
 h. She varies her gifts according to the different 
 countries. By means of commerce, she connects dif- 
 ferent nations: and the hands through which her dona- 
 tions pass, render them more valuable by the continual 
 circulation. She combines and mixes her gifts as the 
 physician does the ingredients in his prescriptions. The 
 t and the small, the handsome and the ugly, the old 
 and the new, combined and properly mixed, form one 
 whole equally useful and agreeable. Such are the in- 
 exhaustible riches of nature in the hands of God. 
 : : 
 
 OCTOBER VHI. 
 Petrifactions. 
 
 Tue transformation of several substances from the ani- 
 mal or vegetable into the mineral kingdom, is a peculia- 
 rity of natural history deserving of our attention. ~The 
 first thing worthy of remark in petrifactions is their ex- 
 ternal form, which shows that these fossils have un- 
 doubtedly belonged either to the animal or vegetable 
 Kingdom. We-seldom meet with petrifactions of any 
 part of the human body; and those of quadrupeds are 
 early as scarce. The most extraordinary skeletons 
 ‘discovered in the earth are those of elephants ; some of. 
 which are found even in different parts of Germany.— 
 Aquatic animals are frequently found petrified, and it 
 ‘is not uncommon to meet with entire fishes in this state, 
 the smallest scales of which may be easily distinguish- 
 ed. But this is nothing in comparison of the multitude 
 of shelis, and little worms, found changed into stone in: 
 the bowels of the earth. Their number is not only pro-- 
 digious, but there are more different species of them 
 than are to be found alive. Petrifactions of marine 
 Substances are found in great abundance all over the 
 )world. There are some on the tops of mountains, many: 
 thousands of feet above the surface of the sea; and 
 |great quantities are found in the earth at different 
 jdepths. All sorts of plants and vegetable substances 
 are found petrified in different strata of the earth; but 
 sometimes there are only the impressions of these, the 
 substances themselves being destroyed. In many places 
 whole trees are found buried at different depths in the 
 
a 
 
 earth, and apparently converted into stone; but th 
 petrifactions do not appear to be of a very ancient date 
 Here it may naturaliy be asked how these petrif 
 substances got into the earth; and particularly how 
 could be carried to the tops of the highest mountai 
 Also, how animals that generally live in the sea, cou 
 have been transported so far from their natural abode 
 Different causes may be assigned for this. Perhaps 
 these petrifactions prove, that the greatest part of 
 earth was formerly covered with water. And, indeec 
 as in every place where we search, from the top of th 
 mountain to the greatest depths into the earth, all so 
 of marine productions are found, it seems as if it could 
 not otherwise be accounted for. The great quantity of 
 petrified shell-fish found at considerable heights, fo 
 ing regular beds, give reason to believe the mountain 
 were formerly the bottom of the sea, and so much 
 more so, as we know that the present bottom of the se 
 is exactly like firm land. We have hitherto but a very 
 imperfect knowledge of the manner in which nature 
 prepares these petrifactions. It is certain that noth 
 will petrify in the open air; for the bodies of animals 
 or vegetables consume or corrupt in this element ; 
 that air must be excluded, or at least not act, where 
 petrifactions are formed. Neither has a barren 
 earth any petrifying quality. Running water may form 
 a crust on particular bodies, but cannot turn them int 
 stone. The very course of the water prevents it. I 
 is probable, therefore, that petrifactions require moist 
 soft earth, mixed with dissolved stony particles. Thesé 
 stony fluids penetrate the cavities of animal and vege! 
 ble substances, and become consolidated, in proportion 
 as the parts of these bodies are dissipated by evapora- 
 tion, or absorbed by alkaline substances. E 
 From what has been remarked we may draw some i= 
 ferences which tend to explain these phenomena of na 
 ture. All animals and vegetables are not equally ¢ 
 ble of being turned to stone; for, in order to be so, t 
 require a degree of hardness to prevent them from 
 rupting before they have time to petrify. Petrifacti 
 are generally formed in the interior of the earth, 
 require that the places where the bodies are deposi 
 should be neither too dry nor too wet. All sorts 
 stones which contain petrifactions are the work of tim 
 
 188 OCTOBER VIIT. 
 
Every Thing in Nature is gradual. 189 
 
 and consequently they are every day still forming ; such 
 are chalks, clays, sands, and several others; and the’ 
 ified bodies assume the nature of these stones, and 
 
 Biome sometimes chalky, sometimes like slate, &c. 
 
 If petrifactions were of no other use than to throw 
 some light upon the natural history of our globe, they 
 would, from that circumstance alone, be interesting ; 
 but we may also consider them as proofs of the opera- 
 tions and transmutations which nature produces in se- 
 cret ; and here again the power and wisdom of God are 
 most strikingly manifested. 
 
 OCTOBER IX. 
 Every Thing in Nature is gradual. 
 
 WE may observe in nature an admirable gradation, or 
 insensible progress, from the most simple to the most 
 complete perfection. There is no middle species which 
 has not something of the nature of that which precedes, 
 or that which follows it. In a word, there is no void 
 nor chasm in nature. 
 
 Dust and earth form the principal and component 
 matter of all solid bodies. These are accordingly found 
 in all bodies which human art has analyzed. From the 
 mixture of earth with salts, oil, sulphur, &c. result dif- 
 ferent kinds of soil, more or less compound, light, or 
 compact ; and these naturally lead us to minerals. 
 The different species of stones are very numerous ; 
 and their figure, colour, size, and hardness, are ex- 
 tremely different. We find among them various metal- 
 Jie and saline particles, from which proceed minerals 
 and precious stones. In the class of stones there are 
 some with fibres and a sort of Jeaves; such as slate, 
 tale, the lithophytes, or marine stony plants; and the 
 amianthus, or the stony flower of the mine, which leads 
 us from the mineral to the vegetable kingdom. 
 
 _ The plant which appears to be the lowest among ve- 
 getables is the truffle, and next to it are the numerous 
 Species of mushrooms and mosses. All these plants are 
 imperfect ; and, properly speaking, only form the limits 
 of the vegetable world. The more perfect plants divide 
 themselves into three great families, which are dispersed 
 over the whole earth—herbs, shrubs, and trees. The 
 polypus, from its external appearance, might be taken 
 
bd 
 
 = 
 
 190 OCTOBER 1X. 
 
 for nothing more than a mere plant, but from the fun¢= 
 tions it is known to perform, it seems to partake both 
 of the vegetable and animal kingdom; and forms a con- 
 necting link between plants and animals. . 
 
 Worms commence the animal kingdom, and lead us 
 to insects. Those which have their bodies enclosed in 
 shells, seem to unite insects to shell-fish, Between 
 these, or rather next to them, come reptiles, which, by 
 means of the watersnake, are linked with the fish. 
 flying-fish leads us to birds. The ostrich, which ha 
 legs something like those of a goat, and which rath 
 runs than flies, seems to link birds with quadrupeds 
 and the ape joins hand with man and beast. 
 
 There are gradations in human nature, as well as in 
 every thing else. Between the most perfect state of 
 man and the ape, there are a wonderful multitude 
 links; but how many more are there between men 
 angels! How many between an archangel and t 
 Creator of all things! Here we beheld a new train 
 gradations, new plans, and new perfections. But an 
 impenetrable veil conceals from us those of the woul 
 ‘to come ¢ 
 
 Let us reflect on these gradations of nature: what 
 has been said may suffice to show us, thafall things in 
 the universe have a relation to each other. ‘There i 
 nothing without its design; nothing which is not ri 
 immediate effect of something which preceded it, or 
 which does not determine the existence of somethial 
 which is to follow. Nature proceeds by degrees, from 
 the least to the most perfect, from the nearest to th 
 more distant, from the inanimate to the animate, fro 
 bodily to spiritual perfection. But how imperfect st 
 is our knowledge of this immense chain of beings! W 
 can but partly distinguish them, and know but a onal 
 number of the links; and yet, defective as our know- 
 ledge is in this respect, it is ample enough to give us 
 the highest idea of that admirable series ana infinite va- 
 riety of beings of which the universe is composed. M 
 the whole lead us to thee, thou supreme Being, althou 
 there is between thee and us‘a distance which no un- 
 derstanding can measure. Thou art the only Being be- 
 yond the chain of nature. From the grain of sand to 
 the cherubim every being owes its existence and per= 
 fection to thee. ; 
 
The Fall of the Leaf. (9I 
 
 OCTOBER X. 
 The Fall of the Leaf: 
 
 We begin to perceive the effect of approaching winter 
 in the woods and gardens. Almost all the plants are 
 losing their leaves, their chief ornaments. The most na- 
 tural way this can be accounted for is from the cold; 
 for the leaves are no sooner covered with frost than they 
 begin to fall in abundance, and all the vegetables are 
 stripped of their clothing. It cannot be otherwise, as 
 the cold causes the sap to stagnate in the plants. But 
 cold is not the only cause of the leaves-falling; for this 
 happens even in mild winters when there is scarcely any 
 frost ; and to those trees which are put in green-houses 
 to preserve them from the cold. It is therefore proba- 
 ble that other causes also contribute to strip the trees 
 of their foliage. Perhaps they wither, because the root 
 no longer supplies what is necessary for their perspira- 
 tion ; for it is evident that the branches grow im thick- 
 ness, when they no longer grow in length. When, 
 therefore, the branches continue to grow thick, and the 
 stalks of the leaves do not increase, their fibres must 
 necessarily loosen from the fibres of the branches, and 
 the leaves consequently fall off: 
 
 But we must not suppose, that these fallen leaves are 
 entirely lost, and of no use. Reason and experience 
 teach the contrary. These leaves when they become 
 rotten, make manure for the ground. The snow and 
 tain wash the salts out of them, and convey them to the 
 ‘roots of the trees. It may also be observed, that where 
 ‘the fallen leaves are strewed upon the ground, they pre- 
 serve the roots of young plants, become a covering for 
 seeds, and keep up a proper degree of warmth and hus 
 midity. This is more particularly observable in respect 
 ‘tothe leaves of the oak. ‘They afford excellent ma- 
 hure, not only to the tree itself, but also to its shoots ; 
 and are very useful for forest pasture, as they increase 
 [the growth of the grass on which they fall and decay.— 
 | This is so important an advantage, that fallen leaves are 
 [never taken up to make dunghills, unless they are in 
 lsuch abundance in the forests, that the grass is rather 
 |choked-than nourished by them. 
 
 Leaves may serve for manure in different ways. They 
 
\ 
 
 192 OCTOBER XI. 
 
 are spread in stables instead of straw, and make a goo 
 litter for cattle; and sometimes they are mixed with ¢ 
 ther kinds of manure. The mould they produce is pa 
 ticularly useful in gardens, where layers are made 
 it, which contribute greatly to the growth of fruit 
 young trees. - 
 
 But it may be said that the fall of leaves is destrue- 
 tive to a multitude of insects, which live on trees a 
 plants. Itis true, that autumn sweeps away whole sho 
 of insects with their nests; but does it follow that the 
 creatures perish? Why may they not live even on 
 ground under the leaves, which cover and guard the 
 from the cold ? 
 
 The fall of the leaf is a striking emblem of the frai 
 of life, and of all earthly things. I am as a falling le 
 death walks by my side: to day I may wither, and 
 morrow be converted into dust. 
 
 The tenure of my existence is brittle as a thread, 
 in a single moment I may be deprived of all my stren 
 and beauty. A little cold air may terminate my 
 tal life, and turn my body to its native dust. But i 
 be enabled to leave behind me the mature fruits of ri 
 teousness, I shall die honourably, and leave the worl 
 without regret. od 
 
 OCTOBER XI. 
 Different Sorts of Earth. 
 
 We can only form conjectures respecting the interior 
 of the earth. Those who work in mines have never been 
 able to go lower than nine hundred feet; for if theya 
 tempted to go further, the pressure of the air would 
 them, even if they could protect themselves from y 
 ter, which accumulates in proportion to the descent 
 But what is a depth of nine hundred feet in comparison 
 of the semidiameter of the earth, which is three thous- 
 and nine hundred and eighty-two miles? The interior 
 of the earth must necessarily be, in a great measure, 
 unknown to us; for miners themselves have scarcely pe- 
 netrated through its first crust. All we know is, tha 
 after digging some hundreds of feet in depth, this erus 
 is found to be composed of different strata or beds placed 
 one over another. These beds are much mixed; an 
 their direction, substance, thickness, and respective 
 
a 
 Different Sorts ‘of Earth. 193 
 
 s0sitions, vary considerably in different places. Gene- 
 rally under the common earth in gardens, white clay 
 and rich earth are found; but sometimes the sand, clay, 
 and marl mix by turns. The manner therefore in which 
 the different beds are classed is rather arbitrary; but in 
 comparing the observations which have been made, the 
 best account appears to be that which divides earths in- 
 to seven different classes. 
 | Black Eavih is composed of putrid vegetable or ani- 
 mal substances; it contains salts and intammable mat- 
 ter: and is, properly speaking, dung. Clay, is more 
 compact than the black earth, and retains water on its 
 surface longer. Sandy Earth, is hard, light, and dry ; 
 and neither retains water, nor is dissolved in it. It is 
 the worst of all earths, though some plants will grow in 
 it. Marl is softer, more mealy, and attracts moisture 
 better. Bog or marshy earth, contains vitriolic salt, 
 which is too acid for Bens Chelk is dry, hard, and 
 calcareous; yet some plants thrive in it. Lastly, Sto- 
 wy Earth. The smoothest stones, however bare of soil, 
 covered with moss, which is a vegetable pro- 
 duction ; and birch is known to grow to a considerable 
 height between stones, and in the clefts of rocks. 
 
 ' The Creator has most wisely prepared the different 
 sorts of earth of which the strata are composed. For 
 to mention only the principal advantages which result 
 from them, these different layers of sand, gravel, and 
 light earth, give passage to spring water, which filters 
 in running over them, becomes soft, and then, dispersing 
 on every side, supplies water for gengral use. These 
 beds are also the reservoirs of springs; and it is remark- 
 able that they are to be found in every country near the 
 surface of the earth, and that they are generally com- 
 osed of alight earth. If it be sometimes mixed with 
 d and gravelly soil, it purifies the water so much the 
 nore. 
 
 In the vegetable kingdom this variety of soils is like- 
 Wise of great utility ; for it is owing to tis that herbs, 
 olants, and trees grow of themselves in some countries, 
 vhile they can only be produced by art in others. All 
 hat art can do is to imitate nature, which prepares for 
 he soil the nutritive juices, and the warmth most pre- 
 er for different plants. Variety of soils will make 
 os trees, and roots, though of the same kind, dif- 
 
 VoL, Il. R 
 
 —— 
 
194 OCTOBER XIv. } i 
 
 fer according to the earth they grow in. It often 
 
 ens in the same soil, that some plants thrive whil 
 thers fail. The same fruit has a different flavour in‘ 
 country from what it has inanother. Plants which h 
 small fibrous roots, without much sap, ought to be s 
 and planted in a light sandy soil, that the roots may 
 tend themselves without resistance, that the rain 
 better sink into them, and that they may not meet 
 too many saline, acid, or oleaginous particles. 
 
 It is asserted, that in the space of forty-eight hour 
 lettuce, cauliflower, salad, &c. may be produced fit | 
 eat, by steeping the seed in brandy, and afterwards pt 
 ting it into ground mixed with pigeons’ dung and lit 
 dust.—Vegetation always requires a prepared soil. _ 
 
 These observations should lead us to acknowled 
 the wisdom with which God has prepared every soil f 
 the production of plants, and for the benefit of his ert 
 tures. How unjust, therefore, would it be to comp 
 of the sterility of certain soils. If there be any whiel 
 appear less fertile than others, our Creator has compe 
 sated that defect by greater advantages, or he has git 
 the inhabitants of such places an adequate degree 
 
 skill and industry. 
 
 OCTOBER XII. 
 Wine. } 
 
 W1xzE isa gift we owe to the divine goodness, and whit 
 ought to excite our admiration and gratitude. God 
 not only given us bread and other food in abundane 
 but has also vouchsafed to indulge us in pleasure, @ 
 has created the vine, to render our lives the happ 
 and to be of use to our health. 
 
 Other beverages, whether natural or artificial, do no 
 produce these effects in the same degree. Wine alt 
 has the power of banishing sadness, of inspiring tha 
 cheerfulness which is indispensably necessary to t 
 well-being of our bodies and minds, and of recruit 
 our strength when we are exhausted by fatigue. Bi 
 enables a man to act, but wine makes him act with sp 
 rit, and renders labour easy. Spirituous liquors can 
 not spread over the countenance that air of cheerfulnes 
 which wine gives it. 
 
 Let us here reflect on God, who gave to this saluta 
 
Wine. 195 
 
 juice qualities so superior to the poorness of its origin, 
 and the dryness of its native soil. The Creator has pro- 
 duced these effects by the mixture of oily, saline, and 
 yolatile particles, of which all wines are composed. 
 
 How greatly is the divine goodness manifested in the 
 abundance and variety of wines granted tous. The dif- 
 ferent sorts are almost numberless. They vary in co- 
 Jour, smell, taste, quality, and duration. We may say, 
 that there are almost as many sorts of wines as soils; 
 and the Creator has allotted to each country such wines 
 as are best adapted to the climate, as well as to the con- 
 stitution and way of life of its inhabitants. 
 
 But how blameably have men acted in reference to 
 the use of wine! There have been legislators who have 
 severely prohibited it, and this not from consideration 
 for the healih and morals of the people, but from false 
 economy, or sometimes merely through fanaticism. It 
 s certain, at least, that it is to these causes united, we 
 must attribute Mahomet’s prohibition of this liquor.— 
 This objection to wine is so much the more irrational, 
 28 most of those who prohibit the use of it do not for- 
 bid the eating of grapes. Another fault, which many 
 are guilty of, is the adulteration of wines, particularly 
 by mixing lime, white lead, and other noxious ingredi- 
 ents with them. The human heart in this displays its 
 worst qualities. Can any thing indeed be more horrid? 
 f poor person, who is sick, tries to relieve his misery, 
 
 and, out of the pittance his labour affords him, purchases » 
 
 alittle wine to recruit his strength, and soften his pains, 
 and they who adulterate wine have the barbarity to ag- 
 gravate his evils, and to make him still worse, by pre- 
 ‘senting him poison, which, instead of restoring the 
 health and strength he hoped for, may be the cause of 
 his death. But a still more shameful and deplorable a- 
 Huse of it is, when men poison themselves by excess. 
 This liquor is a salutary medicine, which supports ani- 
 
 blood, and restores our strength; but the continual and 
 excessive use of it counteracts all these effects. Wine, 
 thus used, is to the human body what manure is to a 
 
 A wise gardener does not continually enrich his ground; 
 he manures his trees when they require it, and only gives 
 
 tin proportion to their nature and necessities... Thisis 
 = 
 
 Bee. 
 
 mal life and the vital spirits; it warms and animates the- 
 
 garden ; it forwards the fruit, but destroys the trees. . 
 
 4 
 
196 OCTOBER XIIT. f 
 
 the proper regimen for wine. Let us always remembei 
 it is only given to us to refresh and recruit our spirits; 
 tet us never abuse a blessing bestowed upon us by L 
 vine Goodness. 
 
 OCTOBER XHI. 
 
 Migration of the Birds. 
 
 Tuts is the season when numbers of the birds, wh 
 during summer frequented our fields, woods, and 
 dens, quit our climate for other countries. There ai 
 but few of them which pass the winter with us: the 
 riot, the woodpecker, the crow, the raven, the sparre 
 the wren, the partridge, and the thrush, are the prine¢ 
 pal. The rest leave us almost the whole winter. Th 
 migration is wonderful in all respects; and if we ha 
 not much attended to these creatures while they wei 
 with us, let us at least think of them now they are tal 
 ing their leave of us. Perhaps it may engage us to n 
 tice them more attentively when they return in sprin 
 
 Some sorts of birds, without taking their flight vet 
 high, and without separating from each other, draw gr 
 dually towards the south, to seek the seeds and fruit 
 they prefer; but they soon return back. Others, w 
 are called birds of passage, collect together at certa 
 seasons, and fly in large bodies to other climates. Sc 
 are content with going from one country to anoth 
 where the air and food draw them at certain seaso 
 Others cross the seas, and undertake voyages of a8 
 prising length. The birds of passage most known, 2 
 quails, swallows, wild-ducks, plovers, woodcocks, ane 
 cranes, with some others which feed on worms. 1 
 quails in spring migrate from Africa to Europe, in 
 der to enjoy a more moderate heat. They fly in flocks 
 like clouds, and often fall through fatigue into shi 
 where they are easily taken. Swallows pursue ad 
 ent method: some cross the seas, but many of them s 
 in Europe, and hide themselves in holes under groua 
 or in marshes, fastening themselves to one another, claw 
 against claw, and bill against bill. They also pile thei 
 selves in heaps, out of the way of men and anih 
 Wild-geese and cranes, at the approach of winter, see 
 milder climates. They all assemble on a certain 
 and divide company. They generally form themsels 
 
ie 
 Migration of the Birds. 197. 
 
 into two lines united in a point like two sides of a tri- 
 angle, with a bird at their head, and the rest in rows, 
 which always extend in that manner. The goose, or 
 crane, which forms the point, cuts the air, and makes 
 way for those which follow; and these always lay their 
 bills on the tails of those which go before. The leader 
 is only charged with this commission for a time; he goes 
 from the point to the tail in order to rest, and is reliev- 
 ed by another. . But all birds of passage do not assem- 
 ble in flights. Some travel quite alone, or only in com- 
 y with their mates and families; while others unite - 
 insmall bodies. Their journeys are performed in a very 
 short space of time: for it has been computed that they 
 can go two hundred miles, and only fly six hours in the 
 day, supposing them te rest occasionally in the day as 
 well as at night. According to this calculation, they 
 from our climate to the equinoctial line, in seven 
 or eight days; and this has been confirmed by observa- 
 ion; swallows having bec seen on the coast of Se- 
 ne eight or nine days after their departure from 
 Europe. 
 ~ These migrations of birds cannot be too much adniir- - 
 ed. The difference of heat and cold, and the want of 
 food, undoubtedly warn them te change their place. 
 what is the reason, that when the air is so mild that 
 they might still remain in it, and find a sufficiency of ° 
 food, they never fail to go at the appointed time? How 
 they know that they shall find food, and the proper 
 degree of heat, in other climates? Why do they all 
 juit us at the same time, as if they had previously and 
 animously fixed the day of their departure? And 
 how, without knowing the country, or the climate 
 hrough which they travel, do they pursue their course 
 with uninterrupted perseverance? These and many si-. 
 milar questions that might be asked upon this interest- 
 mg subject, are perplexing and cannot be answered in 
 i satisfactory manner; because we are not sufficiently 
 ainted with the nature and instinct of these ani- 
 . We may, however, behold in these migrations 
 he wise and beneficent direction of Providence. What 
 nderful means are made use of to preserve and give 
 od to certain. birds? With what tender care is their 
 ubsistence pointed out when it fails them in some re- . 
 ions! Let us thence ion that every thing through--- 
 ie . 
 
198 OCTOBER XIV. 
 
 out the vast empire of nature, is planned with ‘infinite 
 wisdom. Is not instinct to the birds of passage wha 
 reason is.to,man? And does it not equally instrue 
 them in this point of changing place in proper seasons) 
 How should we blush at our incredulity, our doubts, 
 and our anxieties, when we reflect on the admirable 
 guidance of Providence. Will not that God who guide: 
 . the fowls of the air, evince an equal tenderness for crea 
 tures whom he has endued with reason? Can man, the 
 king of animals, be less an object of Jehovah’s care that 
 ‘they ?- Let us joyfully confide in his.merciful protec 
 tion. Let us walk in his ways, and we cannot fail of 
 happiness. : 
 
 OCTOBER XIV. 
 Variety of Trees. : 
 
 ‘HE same diversity may be observed among trees as ap 
 pears in other parts of the vegetable kingdom. Son 
 as the oak, are distinguished by their strength and h 
 ness; others, as the elm and fir, are tall and slend 
 and others, as the thorn and box tree, never attain 
 any considerable height. Some have a rough and ur 
 even bark; while others are smooth and fine, as 
 birch, the maple, and the poplar. Some are used to 
 dorn the apartments of the opulent, while others se 
 for common and more necessary purposes. Some a 
 so slight and delicate that the least wind may blow. then 
 down; while others stand unshaken, and resist the vi 
 Jence of the northern.blasts. Some grow to a prodi 
 ous height and thickness, and each year for more th 
 a century, has augmented their size: others acquir 
 their full growth in a few years. 
 Pliny admired trees out of the bark of which boats 
 were constructed capable of holding thirty persons — 
 What then would he have said of these trees of Con 
 which may be hallowed into vessels large enough for 
 two hundred meti; or of trees which, according to 
 accounts of travellers, are eleven feet in diameter, 
 upon which they can carry from 40 to 50,000: 
 weight? There is one of this kind at Malabar, whi 
 is said to be fifty feet in circumference. The cocoa-tre 
 is of this kind, and some of them have leaves large 
 nough to cover twenty pedple. The ¢allipot, a tr 
 
Variety of Trees. 199 — 
 
 wirich grows in the island of Ceylon, and in height re- 
 sembles the mast of a ship, is equally famous for its 
 leaves, which are so large that it is said one of them 
 will shelter fifteen or twenty men from the rain. They 
 are so supple when dried, that they may be folded up 
 like fans, and are then extremely light, and appear no 
 thicker than a man’s arm. There are still, on Mount 
 Lebanon, twenty-three old cedars which are said to have 
 escaped the deluge ; and, if so, they must be the strong- 
 est trees in the world. A learned person, who has seen 
 them, assures us that ten men could not fathom one of 
 these cedars ; they must therefore be thirty or thirty-six 
 feet in circumference. But as the gum trees in the 
 American islands are generally twenty-six feet in cir- 
 cumference, we may conclude that these cedars are not 
 so old as is reported: though it is well known that many 
 trees live to a very great age. There are apple trees 
 above a thousand years old; and if we compute the 
 quantity of fruit such a tree bears annually, we must, 
 ‘as has been before mentioned, reflect with astonishment 
 ‘upon the prodigious fertility of a single pippin, which 
 could furnish all Europe with trees. 
 __ This great variety amongst trees should remind us of 
 the difference we observe amongst men, in regard to 
 their situations in life, their way of thinking, their ta- 
 ents, and the services they perform As there is not 
 ‘asingle tree in a forest which may not be of some use 
 to its owner, so there is no one in society who may not 
 be useful. One, like the oak, gives an example of firm-_ 
 ‘ness, and of unshaken constancy, which nothing can 
 move. Another, has not equal fortitude, but has more 
 complaisance and address ; he is flexible as the willow, 
 and bends with every breath. If he be virtuous, he will. 
 only comply in Jawful and innocent points; but, if he 
 be indifferent to his duties, he will always embrace the , 
 strongest side. : 
 ‘However different trees may be from each other, they _ 
 all belong equally to the Sovereign of the world; all are, 
 ‘nourished by the same earth; all are warmed by the. 
 ‘Same sun; and refreshed by the same rain. Would to 
 heaven that all men, however different from each other,’ 
 would unite in acknowledging that they are all God’s, 
 creatures, equally subject to his power, ‘equally the ob-" 
 Jects of his tender mercies, and all indebted to him for . 
 
 | 
 | 
 
200 OCTOBER Xv... - 
 
 a 
 their existence and support, as well as for the talents 
 with which they are endowed. The cedar which rises 
 majestically upon the top of Lebanon, and the bramble 
 which grows at its feet, are equally nourished by the 
 juices of the earth, and the showers of heaven. The 
 divine blessing is also equally necessary to the rich and 
 to the poor. The high and mighty amongst men should 
 always remember that they owe their elevation and 
 greatness to God; that they are supported by him 
 alone; and that, in a single moment, he can overturn 
 and reduce them to dust. 
 
 Let us frequently cherish these considerations; a 
 they will tend to repress every emotion of pride which 
 might be in our hearts, and inspire us with submission 
 and obedience to the Author and Preserver of our lives: 
 
 OCTOBER XV. 
 Temperature in different Climates of the Earth. 
 
 / 
 
 Ir seems as if the temperature and warmth of countries 
 must depend upon their situation in respect to the sun; 
 as that luminary casts his rays in the same manner on 
 all countries which are in the same degree of latitude, 
 But experience teaches, that heat and cold, and every 
 temperature, depend on many other circumstances. 
 Seasons may be very difterent in places under the sa 
 parallel; and are, on the contrary, often very simi 
 under different climates. Therefore, as accident 
 causes may make the heat very different in the samel 
 titude, and as-it is not such as the distance of the su 
 would seem to promise, it is difficult to determine’ e 
 actly the seasons and temperature of every country. 
 
 The vicinity of the sea, renders the climate milder; 
 of which England and the coasts of Norway afford in- 
 contestable proofs . The sea may be frozen near the 
 shore, because it mixes there with fresh water: but this _ 
 never happens at any considerable distance from land, — 
 both on account of the salt contained in the sea, a 
 its continual agitation. Thus, the sea never being cool 
 ed down to the freezing point during winter, the adja- 
 cent countries enjoy a milder temperature. On the — 
 contrary, the more a place is elevated above the sea, 
 the greater is its degree of cold. The air is not only 
 more rare and colder, but the greatest part of the I 
 
Temperature of the Earth. 201 
 
 duced by the earth’s reflecting the rays of the sun 
 falls on low places and valleys, and does not reach 
 heights. Besides, if there be, as some suppose, a sub- 
 aneous and central fire, the highest places are most 
 distant from it. Quito is almost under the line; but 
 from its great elevation the heat is very moderate; and 
 itis observable, that such countries have generally a 
 light and serene air, and a pretty equal temperature. 
 High mountains attract the clouds; hence rains and 
 storms are more frequent in hilly countries than else- 
 where : and it has been observed that it scarcely ever 
 rains in the plains of Arabia. Countries which abound 
 in extensive forests are very cold ; the ice melts more 
 slowly in winter, because it is covered with the shade 
 of the trees: it also renders the upper regions of the air 
 cold, and this delays the thaw. 
 _ Another circumstance which tempers the heat of 
 warm climates is, that the days are not long, and the 
 sun remains but a little time above the horizon. In cold- 
 countries the summer days are very long, which oc- 
 casions the heat to be greater. The serenity of the 
 sky, the clear iight of the moon, and the continuance 
 of twilight, render long nights supportable. Under the 
 torrid zone, the seasons are not so much distinguished 
 . and summer, as by dry and wet weather ; for 
 when it ought to be summer, that is, when the sun is 
 most above the horizon, and its rays fall in as direct a 
 Tine as possible, then the rains commence, and fall more 
 or less forsome time. But in those countries, the most 
 pleasant season is that in which the sun has the least 
 elevation. In the countries beyond the tropics, the 
 Weather is generally more uncertain than in those with- 
 in the tropics. In spring-and autumn the winds are 
 highest. in winter the ground freezes more or less 
 deep, but seldom in our climate beyond three feet. In 
 ‘more northern countries, it freezes deeper in winter, 
 and only thaws a few feet in summer. Stagnant,waters, 
 and even rivers, are covered with ice, first near the 
 shore, and then over the whole surface of the water.— 
 ‘The different qualities of the soil, as they retain more 
 or less of acquired heat, contribute also in some degree 
 to vary the climate. 
 In all these plans, what wonderful wisdom and good- 
 ness appear! In thus regulating the seasons and cli- 
 
 : 
 ‘3 
 
202 OCTOBER XVI: 
 
 mates of the different countries, the Creator has rendet 
 ed every part of the earth habitable. We often form 
 erroneous opinions of the torrid and frigid zones; ant 
 foolishly imagine that the inhabitants of those regior 
 must be the most miserable creatures in the universe, 
 Happily for the world, and for the great satisfaction of 
 all feeling hearts, it is certain that the people of the 
 most distant countries, without even excepting those 
 who live under the line, or near the north pole, enjoy 
 the portion of happiness suited to their nature and des. 
 tination. Each country has its advantages and incor 
 veniences in such equal proportion, that it would be dil 
 ficult to decide which -of them merits the preference 
 There is not a corner of the world in which God hi 
 not displayed his goodness. All the inhabitants of the 
 earth experience his paternal kindness; and all that 
 breathe derive life, nourishment, and felicity from him, 
 
 OCTOBER XVI. 
 Atmosphere of the Earth. 
 
 THE air which surrounds the earth is not so pure an¢ 
 subtle as ether; being loaded with particles or exhala- 
 _ tions which are continually rising out of the earth, and 
 particularly from the water. This is called the atmo- 
 sphere. Its lower region, or that which is next the 
 earth, is pressed by the upper air, and thence becomes 
 more thick and dense. ‘This is experienced by. those 
 who ascend high mountains. Their respiration become 
 more difficult in proportion as they ascend. But i 
 impossible to ascertain the exact height of the atme 
 sphere, because we cannot rise very high in it. Ne 
 ther can we draw a positive inference, from the dura 
 tion of twilight, how far this mass of air extends: for 
 supposing the morning twilight to begin, and that of the 
 evening to end, when the sun is eighteen degrees be 
 low the horizon, and that the latter twilight is produced 
 by the rays which strike the earth, and are reflected 
 the highest parts of the atmosphere, there would still 
 main many difficulties to be explained. The atraosph 
 is divided into three regions. The lower regien, whi 
 is the nearest, extends from the earth to the place where 
 the air is no longer heated by the rays which the eat 
 reflects, The middle region begins where the preced- 
 
_ Atmosphere of the Earth. 203 
 
 ing one ends, and reaches to the summits of the high- 
 est mountains, or even to the most elevated clouds, and. 
 is the place where hail, rain, and snow collect. This 
 region is much colder than the lower one; for it is only 
 warmed by the rays which fall perpendicularly and in 
 adirect line upon it. The third region is still colder, 
 and reaches from the middle to the extremity of the 
 atmosphere ; we cannot, however, precisely ascertain 
 its limits. 
 » The particles which rise out of the earth, and form 
 the atmosphere, are of different kinds; watery, earthy, 
 metallic, sulphureous, &c. Now, as some abound more 
 than others in certain parts of the earth, it occasions 
 great variety in the air; and this difference is very 
 perceptible even at a little height. A heavy air is more 
 wholesome than a light one, because it promotes the 
 circulation of the blood and insensible perspiration. 
 When the air is heavy, it is generally serene; whereas 
 alight air is always attended with clouds, rain, or snow. 
 Vapours increase the weight of the air; and particular- 
 , when the heat sends them up very high, the air is 
 ‘still light, notwithstanding the aqueous exhalations with 
 which it is filled. Too great a dryness of the air is very 
 injurious to the human body, but this seldom happens 
 ‘except in very sandy countries. A damp air is also very 
 ‘unwholesome, for it relaxes the fibres, stops the insen- 
 ‘sible perspiration, and if it be warm at the same time, 
 : it is apt to occasion putrid disorders. The heat of the 
 air dilates the fluids of the human body, and brings on 
 “$weatings, which produce languor and debility. When, 
 on the other hand, the air is too cold, the solids con- 
 tract, and the fluids thicken, which causes obstructions 
 ‘and inflammations. The best air, therefore, is that 
 which is neither too heavy nor too light, neither too 
 “dry nor too moist, and which is not mixed with noxi- 
 ous vapours. 2 
 : It is in the atmosphere that clouds, rain, snow, dew, 
 thunder, and several aerial phenomena are formed. It 
 is to the atmosphere also that we owe the morning and 
 evening twilights. As the rays of light are refracted 
 ‘and reflected in this mass of air, we see them before the 
 Sun appears, and enjoy them after he has set. Hence 
 it is that those people who live under the polar circles, 
 enjoy some rays of light even when the sun is for a long 
 _time below their horizon. 
 
 | 
 
204 OCTOBER XVII. q 
 The atmosphere is the mansion of the winds, wh id 
 have such influence on the fertility of the earth, a 
 on the health of mankind. Cities and provinces wou 
 soon be depopulated and changed into melancholy d 
 serts, if the air were constantly calm, and if there were 
 not storms and tempests to purify it, and to disperse 
 those noxious vapours which are continually rising into 
 the atmosphere. 
 How much reason have we to bless God for these bi 
 neficial arrangements. If there were no atmospher 
 or if it were different from what it is, our globe woul 
 be a chaos, a most melancholy abode for- its inhabitants, 
 Let us then acknowledge with gratitude the wisdom an 
 goodness of the Creator, who has regulated every th 
 in nature so as to be most conducive to the happiness 
 the beings he has formed. 
 
 OCTOBER XVII. 
 Proportion between Births and Deaths. 
 
 Tuat God has not abandoned the lives of men and the 
 preservation of the human race to blind chance, but thi 
 -he watches over them with parental care, appears ev 
 dently from the exact proportion there has ever been, 
 at all times and in all countries, among mankind, in re 
 spect to their entrance into the world, and their depart 
 ure from it. By means of this balance, the earth is nei 
 ther too thinly peopled, nor too full of inhabitants. 
 
 The number of births generally exceeds that of deaths; 
 for it has been computed that if ten persons die annua 
 ly, twelve or thirteen are born. Thus the human ra 
 is continually multiplying. If it were otherwise, if th 
 number. of deaths exceeded that of births, a country 
 must of course be depopulated at the end of a few ce 
 turies ; particularly as many obstacles may prevent p 
 pulation, such as the plague, war, famine, celibacy, 
 and crowded cities, where at least as many die as are 
 born. 
 
 1t appears from baptismal registers, that more males 
 than females are born, the proportion being nearly 
 twenty-one to twenty: so that where a thousand and 
 fifty males are born, there are only a thousand females. 
 But death, war, and various accidents, preserve an @- 
 quality between the sexes. In cities there are general 
 
Proportion between Births and Deaths. 205 
 
 ly more women than men, but in the country the males . 
 preponderate. 
 _ The number of children in families is also regulated 
 with great wisdom. It is computed, that in sixty-six 
 families, there are but ten children baptized annually. 
 In a populous country, out of fifty or fifty-four persons, 
 there is but one married every year; and each marri- 
 age, one with another, produces four children; but in 
 cities, we generally reckon but twenty-five children from 
 ten marriages. A fourth part of every country is com- 
 of men fit to bear arms. 
 _ By comparing the bills of mortality in different coun- 
 tries, it is found that in common years, that is when no 
 epidemic disorder prevails, there dies one out of forty 
 in villages ; one out of thirty-two in small towns; one 
 out of twenty-eight in middling towns; one out of twen- 
 ty-four in populous cities; and one out of thirty-six in 
 awhole province. Out of a thousand people, twenty- 
 eight die annually. Of a hundred children that die in 
 one year, three are always still-born ; but scarcely one 
 in two hundred die in the birth. It is computed that 
 but one woman out of a hundred and fifteen dies in 
 child-bed ; and but one out of four hundred dies in la- 
 bour. 
 _ The greatest mortality among children is in the first 
 ear. Out of a thousand infants two hundred and nine- 
 ty-three die before they have attained a year’s growth; 
 between the first and second year of their age, on- 
 eighty out of a thousand die; and in the thirteenth, 
 Eitcerth, and fifteenth years, the number of deaths is 
 o small, that it seldom amounts to more than two in a 
 Besand. This, therefore, is the least dangerous pe- 
 tiod of life. Some learned men have remarked, that 
 = are more women than men who live to seventy or 
 uimety years, but that there are more men than women 
 who exceed ninety and live to a hundred. 
 _ Three thousand millions of people at least might live 
 tt the same time on this earth: but there is scarcely one 
 hird of that number, or at most a thousand and eighty 
 nillions ; that is to say, six hundred and fifty millions 
 sia, a hundred and fifty millions in Africa, a hun- 
 ed and fifty millions in America, and a hundred and 
 y millions in Europe. Hence we may naturally in- 
 ; God is tenderly concerned for the lives of men, 
 VOL. II. S 
 
and that they are precious in his sight. Is it ossible 
 that such an equality of births and deaths should be pr 
 served, and their proportion continue so regular 2 
 
 constant, at all times and in all places, if Divine Y 
 dom had not so ordained it ? 
 
 OCTOBER XVIII. — a, 
 Ravages in the Kingdom of Nature. — y 
 
 WE now see that beautiful nature which, in spri 
 charmed all our senses, and afforded us such variety 
 leasures, subjected to the common law of all crea 
 things. Its beauty has disappeared, and each day brin 
 new revolutions, one more melancholy than anoth 
 But such is the lot of nature. » 1t contains within it 
 the sources of the most afflicting devastations. 
 How much mischief is occasioned by the overflowi 
 of rivers, heavy rains, and the melting of snow and ic 
 Whole villages overflowed, fruit-trees torn up by the 
 roots, crops of corn laid under water, and flocks = 
 stroyed, exhibit sad monuments of the destructive po 
 of the elements. A shipwreck appears to be a less fa- 
 tal disaster; but a whole commonwealth might have 
 been produced from the men the sea has swallowed up, 
 ‘Immense sums, which required ages perhaps to coll 
 are lost ina moment. The appearance of the sto 
 sea, the lamentable cries of the dying, and the crash ¢ 
 the vessel against some hidden rock—how awful! how 
 dreadfully terrific ! ae 
 What calamities proceed also from excessive heat ar 
 long continued drought! The grass and the plants 
 ther, the earth is dried up, and we are stifled with clot 
 of burning dust. The waters gradually corrupt, and b 
 come a poison to the flocks. Heat and putrefaction mul- 
 . tiply insects prodigiously, and lay waste all before them: 
 they devour the country, and if thousands die to 
 new generations appear to-morrow. Famine, the 
 tible companion of death, comes next, and the pesti- 
 lence walks by its side. One bad year, a war, or an i 
 fectious disorder, may cause all these evils. * 
 What confusion and destruction are occasioned © 
 earthquakes, which become more and more common 
 In the very bowels of the earth pestilential vapours a 
 
 206 ' OCTOBER XVIII. 
 
 up, and a destructive fire spreads death on every side 
 
Ravages in the Kingdom of Nature. 207 
 
 Often on a sudden, in the middle of the night, the earth 
 rumbles and quakes, whole cities are overthrown, and 
 thousands of people are swallowed up. What aformid- 
 able sight is a voleano! Nature, which, in other re- 
 ts, is so lovely, here becomes terrible. At this 
 ireadful scene, I say to myself, How imperfect is every 
 thing but the Creator himself! Many people make na- 
 ture their god, and its beauties cause them to forget the 
 t Being, from whom they proceed. Let us learn 
 the true state of all earthly things, and acknowledge the 
 advantages which the love of God has beyond all sub- 
 lunary objects of attraction. To find delight in the con- 
 templation of his divine attributes, and to consider him 
 as our sovereign good, is to triumph over all the deso- 
 lations of nature. Besides, what can be more proper 
 to increase our love and gratitude, than the recollection 
 that he can convert even these calamities into blessings. 
 aese apparent disorders of nature prevent evils infi- 
 ly worse, which would happen if destructive matter, 
 such as subterraneous fires and vapours, were to remain 
 ped up and confined in the bowels of the earth. 
 _ Burning heats serve to dry the earth, which is in o- - 
 ther parts overflowed with water. Plague and famine 
 deliver the world from a multitude of wicked people 
 that are a burden to it; and the extraordinary mortali- 
 ty which sonietimes happens amongst men, is a very 
 wise mean of preserving the proper balance in respect 
 to number, and of preventing an excessive population. 
 vertheless, we may suppose that God would send few- 
 plagues on the earth, if his holiness and justice did 
 not oblige him, from time to time, to punish the crimes 
 of_its inhabitants. 
 _ When we are mere spectators of the mischiefs- that 
 happen on our globe, and are not immediately interest- 
 ed in them, our gratitude to that Great Being who has 
 ‘spared ws, ought to be attended with sentiments of com- 
 passion and charity towards our unfortunate fellow-crea- 
 Tics. Let us never be insensible to the misfortunes of 
 ‘others, nor hear with indifference the calamities of peo- 
 the most remote; as if nothing were to affect us but 
 -in which we had a personal concern. In the im- 
 se chain of events in the world, there is not a single 
 ink to which we do not each of us belong more or less 
 nearly. Were the eee ve people who suffered so 
 4 
 
 e . 
 
 | 
 | 
 
208 OCTOBER XIX. 
 
 many miseries greater sinners than ourselves? -¥ 
 are they fallen while we are preserved? Is the pla 
 we inhabit less sullied with crimes than the countries 
 where earthquakes and voleanoes have made such raya: 
 ges? The final catastrophe of nature will be still in a- 
 nother manner terrible to us. . This world is not ete 
 nal. After having successively experienced evils of 
 very kind, the moment of its total dissolution will at I; 
 arrive. Nature still flourishes, but she visibly grow 
 old. It is only with labour and industry that we dr, 
 from the earth what it spontaneously presented to oi 
 ancestors, and what they gathered almost without tro 
 ble. Let it perish then, this land of our pilgrima 
 since it is designed to perish. We have no permamn 
 abode here, but let us seek that which is to come in 
 kingdom of God. - . 
 Those countries, towns, and villages which have bee 
 laid waste, have aclaim upon our feelings and our gen 
 rosity ; we should ever be ready to succour them, and di- 
 vide our bread with the unfortunate inhabitants. May 
 they humble themselves under the mighty hand of 
 and patiently submit to the chastisements he has s¢ 
 proper to inflict. Let them call to mind the distress 
 that have been endured by many of their brethren, whose 
 wounds are now healed, whose granaries are more 
 ply filled than ever, and whose ruinated houses are now 
 changed into magnificent palaces. : q 
 To create and to destroy is, and ever will be, the pre 
 rogative of Jehovah. 1f he never destroyed, we shou 
 see no new creations. We should have no trials for 
 resignation or patience. Nor should we be so sensible 
 of the value of religion, which strengthens and consol 
 in the worst calamities, and which raises us above : 
 the evils of life. Let us then hold by this, and let thi 
 be the result of all our reflections. : 
 
 OCTOBER XIX. 
 Circulation of the Blood. 
 
 OF all the motions in the animal body none is more im: 
 portant, nor more mysterious, than the circulation of 
 the blood. There is something so great in this moti 
 that it strikes the mind, and makes us sensibly feel 
 limits of human knowledge, while it inspires ug wi 
 
 “i 
 
Circulation of the Blood. 209 
 
 ‘ound admiration for the supreme wisdom of our di- 
 vine Creator. 
 
 _ The blood circulates continually in our body; and- 
 
 is is the principle of its motion.—The heart, which is 
 ted within the breast, between the two lobes of the 
 , is a fleshy substance which has two cavities, se- 
 ted from each other by a partition. This machine 
 vin continual motion, contracting and dilating alter- 
 lately. [rom the left ventricle of the heart proceeds 
 the trunk of an artery called the aorta, or great artery. 
 | It soon divides into several branches, some descénding 
 oe. ascending. These numberless branches, which 
 ecome smaller and finer in proportion as they are far- 
 ther removed from the heart, spread, and are dispersed 
 over every part of the body. The right ventricle, by 
 tracting, drives the blood into these arteries with so 
 ‘much force, that it reaches to the extremities of the 
 ery smallest and most remote branches. This motion, 
 galled the pulse, is the effect of the pulsation of the 
 and is quicker or slower, according as the heart 
 atracts with more or less frequency. But what be- 
 es of the blood when it has reached the farthest 
 ches of the arteries, which are spread throughout 
 the whole body? Nature employs it in the wisest man- 
 mer. Certain vessels through which the blood circu- 
 lates absorb the aqueous particles, others the oily, and 
 others the saline. In different parts of the body, where 
 the arteries are dispersed, the secretion is formed of the 
 milk, fat, or any other humour necessary for certain 
 purposes, or which, as useless, ought to be expelled - 
 the body. The remainder of the blood, after be-- 
 ing thus purified, flows into the extremities of the arte-- 
 in such a manner, that, with the help of a micro-- 
 scope the little red globules may be seen very distinct-- 
 ly rolling one after another. ; 
 
 _ But these little channels enlarge gradually, form lar-- 
 ger vessels, and then larger still, called veins, through: 
 which the blood is conveyed back to the heart, in the 
 same way as it had been cunveyed from it through the - 
 arteries. These veins bring back the blood from all 
 
 its of the body, above and below, into the heart, . 
 where they form a channel, through which the blood a- - 
 gain discharges itself into the right ventricle. It does: 
 not pass immediately from 24 into the right ventricle, , 
 
 3 
 
212 OCTOBER XX. ‘ 
 
 to the crown of the head, makes twice the length of the 
 face; which js the fifth part of the whole length of 
 body. From: the collar bones to the bottom of thi 
 breast, is reckoned another face. Below the brea: 
 begins the fourth face, which ends at the navel; a 
 the fifth extends to the bottom of the abdomen, whi 
 makes altogether half the length of the body. | 
 length of the thigh is equal to two faces, and that« 
 the knee to half a face. The leg, from below the kn 
 . to the instep, is the length of two faces; which in: 
 make up nine and a half; and from the instep to th 
 sole of the foot is half a face; which completes the 
 faces into which! the human body has been divided. _ 
 This division is meant to apply to men in gener 
 but in persons of greater height than ordinary, abo 
 half a face more is found between the breast and t 
 bottom of the abdomen: and it is the superior lengt 
 in this part which constitutes a fine stature. When th 
 arms are stretched out in a direct horizontal line, th 
 distance between the extremities of the longest finger 
 of each hand is equal to the height of the body. Fr 
 the hollow between the collar bones, to the joint which 
 unites the shoulder bone to the arm, is the length @ 
 one face. When the arm hangs down, it is compute 
 at four faces ; two from the shoulder joint to the elbo 
 and two from the elbow to the tip of the little finge 
 which makes five faces for each arm; in all ten face 
 which is the length of the whole body. The hand 
 one face in length. The thumb is the third of a fe 
 or the length of the nose, which is equal to that of 
 great toe. The sole of the foot is equal to a sixth p 
 of the height of the whole body. There is a particula 
 measure also for the thickness of the body and limbs. 
 The thickness of the finger is generally the thirty-sixth 
 part of its length; that of the little finger is the fort 
 eighth part: three times the thickness of the thumb gives 
 ‘that of the hand; and six times the thickness of 
 hand equals that of the whole body. 4q 
 The height of the human body varies considerabl} 
 The finest stature is from five feet four’ or five, to five 
 feet eight or nine inches. The middle size is from fi 
 feet one inch to five feet four. The least size is und 
 five feet. Women are generally two or three in 
 shorter than men. Their breast is higher and more prt 
 
Navigation. 213 
 
 me so that the capacity of the chest formed by the 
 is deeper in wcmen, and broader in men, in pro- 
 ortion to the rest of the body. The hips of women 
 we much wider than those of men, and the bones which, 
 joined to them, form what is called the pelvis, are 
 
 Tr. 
 an has a greater quantity of brain than any other 
 al of the same size; even more than the horse or 
 e ox. A man who weighs a hundred pounds has 
 enerally four pounds of brain. Children born at the 
 ue time generally weigh eight pounds at most, andfive 
 tthe least. Their greatest length is one foot eleven 
 nches, and the least is one foot six inches. 
 The human body, whether it be considered in the 
 hole, or in its different parts, appears to be construct- 
 according to the most exact proportions. All is re- 
 ar, and in the most perfect harmony, as well with 
 sspeet to size and form as to the disposition of the 
 arts. There are none greater or smaller than the con- 
 ion they have with the other limbs, or the general 
 sign of the whole machine, requires. No form or 
 josition could be imagined better adapted, or more ad- 
 fantageous to the whole of the members. There are 
 sonfessedly varieties and irregularities among them, 
 do not destroy the principal design of the body. 
 sformed persons and monsters are proofs of these ir- 
 gularities. But though certain disproportions in the 
 ie, form, and disposition of the parts, may be compa- 
 e with the chief design, they still hurt the grace and 
 auty of the outward appearance. How grateful then 
 ould those persons be who are well made, and whose 
 imbs are all well proportioned. ; 
 
 a OCTOBER XXI. 
 
 . 4 Navigation. 
 
 To a contemplative mind navigation is a subject which 
 nay give rise to many important reflections. Here our — 
 suriosity is excited, and at the same time satisfied in 
 
 everal ways, so as to be a source of great pleasure. In 
 general, we only consider the advantages which result 
 Tom navigation ; but we ought to consider also the me- 
 shanism and motion of the vessels by which it is pers 
 orm ed, ‘ 
 
a 
 
 Is it not astonishing, that so enormous and hez 
 
 mass as a ship can float on the water? The weight: 
 a ship is greater than we imagine, and a little atte 
 will convince us, that its pressure on the water must 
 prodigious. A man of war, which carries eight hun- 
 dred men, has commonly provisions laid in to suppo 
 that number for three months, and mounts from seventy 
 to a hundred guns. Now supposing each man to weig 
 only 100lbs. and each cannon 900 (though some of 
 these weigh more than 4000lbs.) and allowing that eat 
 man consumes but three pounds of food in the course 
 of a day; even this moderate calculation will makea 
 total weight of more than three hundred thousam 
 pounds. Besides this, we must reckon the weight 
 the vessel, the rigging, and a variety of materials nece 
 sary to keep the ship in repair, to load the guns, &e, 
 all which equal, if not exceed the former amount. Ye 
 this enormous mass of 600,000 pounds weight, is p 
 motion by a gentle breeze. Is not this inconceiva 
 and does it not appear contrary to the laws of nature? 
 Yet it is in reality so natural, that it would be a mira 
 were it otherwise. + 
 It is not merely the wind that moves this enormous 
 load. The ship with all its weight swims upon the wa- 
 ter. But how can so heavy a body float, or howe 
 the water, whose particles are not strongly connected, 
 have sufficient strength and consistency to support this 
 ponderous mass? ‘This is an effect of equilibrium, 
 The vessel sinks till the volume of water which it ¢ 
 places is equal to its own bulk. - Suppose the ship 
 hundred and twenty feet long, and fifteen broad, z 
 that it sinks to the depth of two feet, that is, thr 
 thousand six hundred feet of water, or so much ca 
 as one takes place of the other. Thas the river is 
 moré loaded by the ship than it was by the water whi¢ 
 the vessel has removed. we 
 Navigation was formerly much more dangerous and 
 difficult than it is at present. The ancients did not da 
 to venture far upon the open sea, but coasted al 
 from shore to shore. But since the invention of | 
 compass, we can cross the sea more securely. Bef 
 this valuable discovery, it was a sort of wonder to m 
 _even short sea-voyages. In Homer’s time it requi 
 great preparation, and much deliberation, before 
 
 214 OCTOBER XXI. 
 
Navigation. 215 
 
 leroes could resolve to cross the Egean sea; and the 
 xpedition of Jason and the Argonauts, to the island of 
 Jolchis, was considered as a wonderful exploit. The 
 liscovery of the compass has enabled us to make the 
 ongest voyages. The needle turning constantly to the 
 jorth, informs the navigator in what region he is, and 
 0 what country he directs his course. In the darkest 
 lights, in the most cloudy days, in the midst of the 
 jean, this instrument serves as a guide, and leads him 
 rom one end of the world to another. ; 
 Have we ever reflected on the advantages of naviga- | 
 on And have our reflections induced us to present 
 he tribute of gratitude to our Creator? To navigation 
 ye owe, directly or indirectly, many of the necessaries 
 f life. We could not have those spices and medica- 
 ts which come to us from different countries, or at 
 east we could not procure them but with considerable 
 Touble and expense, did not vessels bring them into 
 rg Oa To have all our necessaries brought by land 
 would be extremely inconvenient, as will appear from 
 he following calculation. The freight of a ship is 
 reckoned by tons, and a ton is equal to two thousand 
 jounds ; therefore a vessel whose burthen is six hun- 
 lved tons, carries one million two hundred thousand 
 gounds weight! Now, allowing a thousand pounds 
 weight to a horse, it would require three hundred and 
 welve waggons, as many men, and twelve hundred and 
 forty-eight horses, to transport this cargo! How dear- 
 ly then must we pay, not only for the luxuries, but for 
 many of the common necessaries of life! 
 _ Navigation should also be regarded as a signal bless- 
 ing, as it has been a mean of carrying the gospel of 
 Christ to the remotest countries. Let this considera- 
 tion inspire us with the most lively gratitude to our 
 Creator. And at the same time let us be thankful that 
 we are not obliged to brave the dangers of the ocean, 
 and to procure the means of subsistence at the continual 
 hazard of our lives. But whilst we live peaceably a- 
 ng our families, at a distance from all these perils, 
 ‘us not forget to recommend our seafaring brethren 
 0 the Divine mercy and protection. 
 
216 OCTOBER XXII. ¥ 
 
 OCTOBER XXII. ~ 
 Beasts of Burden. . 
 
 THESE animals are so serviceable to us, and we de 
 so many advantages from them, that it would be as 
 of ingratitude not to examine them with attention, — 
 
 We generally content ourselves with subduing ther 
 for our food, or with training them to supply our y 
 of strength; while, through indolence or ignorance, 
 neglect to consider them as connected with the wh 
 creation, or to reflect on the wisdom and goodness 
 the Creator, which appears so evidently in the prod 
 tion of these useful creatures. x, 
 
 Of all domestic animals the horse renders us most 
 service, and does it the most willingly. He suffers hi 
 self to be employed in cultivating our ground; and tam 
 ly submits to every sort of labour for a frugal and mode: 
 rate subsistence. He shares with us the pleasures of the 
 chase, and the dangers of war. He is a creature which 
 gives up his being to exist only by the will of another: 
 he even anticipates this will, and by the quickness and 
 precision of his motions, expresses and executes it. 
 gives himself up entirely to his master; refuses no la- 
 bour, exerts all his strength, exhausts himself, am 
 sometimes even dies in trying to do more. Nature has 
 given the horse a propensity both to love and fear mati 
 kind; and made him very sensible of the caresses which 
 render his servitude pleasing. The horse is the besi 
 proportioned and finest shaped of all animals. Every 
 part of him is elegant and regular. The exact propor- 
 tions of his head give him a light and lively look, whieh 
 is still heightened by the beauty of his chest. His car- 
 riage is noble, and his step majestic, and every liml 
 seems to announce his animation, strength, courage, 
 and stateliness. - 3 
 
 The ox has not the pleasing elegance of the horse 
 his monstrous head, his legs too thin and too short for 
 the size of his body, the smallness of his ears, his stupid 
 look and heavy walk, are deformities: but these ar 
 amply compensated by the services he renders to man- 
 kind. He is strong enough to carry heavy loads, ame 
 is contented with scanty fare. His blood, his a 
 
 flesh, fat, and horns, may be applied to several uses: 
 
Winter Seed Time. 217 
 
 nd his dung is excellent manure for the ground. The 
 construction of the organs of digestion in this animal is 
 ‘remarkable. He has four stomachs, the first of 
 ich can contain forty or fifty pounds of food; and 
 third stomach has eighty-eight folds or ridges, which 
 ie to assist digestion: whereas the stomachs of sheep 
 id goats have but thirty-six. 
 the ass, however void of beauty in appearance, and 
 wever despised, has notwithstanding many excellent 
 ities, and is extremely useful. He is not fiery and 
 yetuous like the horse; but quiet, simple, and always 
 te same. Devoid of pride, he goes smoothly on his 
 
 y, and carries his load without noise or murmuring. 
 p is temperate both as to the quantity and quality of 
 s food ; being contented with thistles and the very 
 sest herbage. He is also patient, vigorous, and in- 
 atigable ; and is of continual and essential service to 
 | master. 
 low is it possible that we can daily employ these a- 
 lals without reflecting on the Creator, who formed 
 md gave them the means of being so useful to us? It 
 circumstance worthy the attention of a reflecting 
 mind, that the number of beasts of burden is infinitely 
 
 eater than that of wild beasts; for if the increase of 
 he latter equalled that of the former, the earth would 
 on be laid waste. Can we reflect without gratitude 
 
 the goodness of God, who has given us the command 
 ese animals; the strength or skill to subdue them; 
 
 ight to make use of them ; to change as we please 
 ir nature; to force them to obedience ;-and to em-- 
 them as we think proper? This power isa gift 
 m God, by which man may every instant perceive 
 xcellence of his being. If God had not impressed 
 als with a natural fear of mankind, it would be im- 
 sible to subdue them by force. Since, therefore, 
 3s to Him alone we owe our power over them, we 
 hould be unpardonable to abuse it, by treating them 
 ith cruelty, or oppressing them by.excessive labour. 
 
 OCTOBER XXIII. ‘ 
 
 Winter Seed Time. 
 
 REAT part of the food designed both for man and 
 nals is at this time deposited in the earth; and when 
 ‘OL. Il. ir 
 
218 OCTOBER XXIII. ‘ 
 
 the husbandman has sown his winter’s corn, he be 
 to enjoy a little repose. He will soon have the s 
 faction of seeing his fields gradually covered with a 
 beautiful verdure, and giving the promise of a plent 
 ful harvest. Nature works in secret, while the see 
 opening ; but its operations may be discovered by tak 
 ing some of the grains out of the abies when they ar 
 beginning to shoot. Two days after the seed has beer 
 sown, it is swelled by the juices, and begins to sprout 
 The germ is always at one of the ends of the grain; a 
 that part of it which is next the outside is the little r 
 of the future plant. The part turned inwards is | 
 stalk and head of the plant. Twenty-four hours after 
 the corn has been sown, the germ commonly begins 
 pierce the coat of the grain, and to disengage its 
 The root and stalk become visible. The root is at fi 
 wrapped up in a sheath, which it bursts open. Soi 
 days after, other roots shoot out of the sides. The fi 
 or sixth day, a green stalk springs up above the ground 
 It remains some time in that state, till the fine sea 
 comes when the ear of corn bursts from the coats whi 
 had hitherto protected it from cold and uncertain w 
 ther. 
 All this naturally Jeads us to reflect on the nature 
 human life. Our present existence may be consideret 
 as the germ of a future life; and our state here as that ol 
 our seed-time, when we can discover very little grow 
 We cannot here behold the fruit in maturity, nort 
 corn in perfection. The harvest will not be reapé 
 earth. We live in hope. The husbandman, 
 sown his field, leaves his seed to corruption, to the ra 
 the storms, and the heat of the sun; and he sees no 
 what will be the result. This is precisely our situati 
 in regard to spiritual seed. Let us not be vain of w 
 we sow, neither let us be discouraged if we do not re 
 the fruits of it. Let us not be weary of “ sowing t 
 the Spirit;? and perhaps our good works, ho 
 trifling in themselves, may have happy consequence 
 hereafter. : 
 - Now that our seed is committed to the ground, 
 us wait patiently and without anxiety, till we reap t 
 fruit of our labour, and, in the mean time, like the] 
 ous husbandman, let us beseech God to crown our field 
 with his blessing. ° 
 
To" 
 
 Particular Providence of God. 219 
 
 OCTOBER XXIV. 
 Particular Providence of God. - 
 
 fr would be a great misfortune for the world if there 
 were any foundation for the opinion of unbelievers, that 
 God’s providence is only concerned for the generality 
 of beings, for the preservation of the whole species, but 
 not on behalf of individuals. Would a being deserve 
 he name of a God who either could not, or would not, 
 nterest himself in the parts of which the whole is com- 
 yosed? For our comiort, we are taught, both by rea- 
 on and religion, to believe in a God whose providence 
 ¢xtends to every creature in particular, and to every 
 art of which that creature is composed. — 
 Let none imagine that it is*beneath the dignity of 
 l to attend to individuals. The whole universe, as 
 as the smallest particle of dust, is nothing in com- 
 n of the Supreme Being. What then can we call 
 ittle or contemptible? Is there not less difference be- 
 ween one man and whole nations, than there is between 
 mand those immense globes which appear so little: 
 le eyes of the common people? The least reflec- 
 | may convince us, that in the sight of God, to whom 
 ousand years are as a day, and the whole universe 
 ke a drop of water in the ocean, there is nothing ei- 
 tse or small in itself, or any event, however in- 
 
 F 
 : 
 . 
 
 1 siderable, that is unworthy his attention. If we take 
 
 ‘he meanest plant, or the least insect that can he dis- 
 ected, we shall discover in the minutest parts of it the 
 : wisdom which shines in the construction of the- 
 hole.—The smallest fibre contributes as much to the 
 erfection of the whole plant, as the plant itself contri- 
 ates to the perfection of the whole species, or the spe- 
 ‘es to the perfection of the universe But if God has 
 wuchsafed to form these creatures-which appear so 
 icable, why should it be beneath him to preserve 
 vem? And how could the whole be perfect, if the 
 ats were not so; or how could a whole species be pre- 
 -nved, if the individuals were not regardéd? Reason 
 one may teach us this, but revelation confirms it. We 
 wm from thence, that the hairs of our head ave num- 
 red. Even. our hairs, of which we lose millions in 
 te course of our lives, without missing them, are all: 
 
 : TZ 
 
 iin 
 
. 
 
 220 OCTOBER XXvV. 
 
 numbered. And thence our Saviour draws this c 
 sion, that with much more reason God interests him 
 self in us, and vouchsafes to honour us with his notiee 
 Let us then adore his providence with the most liy 
 faith and gratitude. 
 
 OCTOBER XXV. 
 The Measure and Division of Time. 
 
 TIME is measured and divided according to the rev 
 tions of the celestial bodies, and particularly by th 
 of the sun and moon. Those two globes have most 
 fluence on the state of mankind. The course of 
 moon only serves to measure the time on our earth, 
 that of the sun regulates the time in all the plan 
 which move round it. , 
 
 Day is the space of time in which the sun makes 
 apparent revolution round the earth: or, to speak m 
 strictly, it is the time our earth takes in turning roi 
 its own axis. ‘The part of this time during which 
 sun is above the horizon is called an artificial day. 
 is the time of light which is determined by the ri 
 and setting of the sun. The time of darkness, or wl 
 the sun is below the horizon, we call night. The 
 and night together make the natural or solar day. 17 
 is divided into twenty-four parts, called hours. E 
 hour is subdivided into sixty equal parts, which 
 termed minutes; each minute into sixty second ba 
 each second into sixty thirds. Br | 
 
 This division of the day into hours, minutes, &¢ 
 marked by the motion of the shadow on a sun-dial, 
 by the hand of a clock. A good sun-dial consta 
 marks the hour truly, but clocks or watches requir 
 be often regulated. Most Europeans begin their he 
 of the day at midnight, from which they reckon t 
 hours to noon, and twelve more from that to the e1 
 ing midnight. The Italians begin the day at sui 
 and reckon twenty-four hours to the following ever 
 The Turks begin their day a quarter of an hour ¢ 
 sun-set; from which they reckon twelve equal he 
 and, when those are passed, they reckon twelve 
 to the following evening. The Jews begin the da 
 sun-set; from which they count twelve equal 
 sun-rise, and as many to sun-set: consequen 
 
ss The Measure and Division of Time. 221° 
 
 hhours of their day are longer or shorter than those of 
 the night, in proportion to the length of the day and 
 __ A week is the space of seven days. A solar month. 
 the time the sun takes in passing through one sign 
 the zodiac; but these months do not begin or end 
 exactly when that luminary enters a new sign. The lu-- 
 nar month is the space of time between two new moons, 
 that 1 is to say, twenty- nine days, twelve hours, and for- 
 y-four minutes. 
 
 The solar year comprises twelve solar saat, which 
 Bthe time the sun takes in traversing the twelve signs 
 of the zodiac; and there are generally reckoned in that 
 time, three hundred and sixty-five days, five hours, for- 
 ~eight minutes, and fifty-seven seconds. These years 
 im use, at present, among all the people in Europe 
 lunar year takes in twelve lunar months, or twelve - 
 lutions of the moon round the earth. It is composed 
 ee hundred and fifty-four days, eight hours, and 
 -eight minutes. The Jews and Turks still reckon 
 k ‘this § but, in order ito make it answer to the solar 
 year, they often intercalate a whole month. Our com-. 
 a year commences ten or twelve days after the sun 
 
 entered the sign of Capricorn. 
 This measure or division of time, however unimport- 
 ant it may appear in itself, may become of much con- 
 sequence, by the application of it to the moral life of” 
 an. The hours, days, weeks, months, and years of 
 _ our earthly life is composed, were given us in or- 
 © that-we should fulfil the design of our existence, by 
 aking a good use of our faculties. But how do we 
 iploy this precious time? We are too apt to consi- 
 minutes and seconds as trifles unwerthy of our at- 
 Zo It is certain, however, that.he who does not 
 n minutes, will lavish hours also. But are we more 
 economical of longer periods? If from all the days that 
 are alotted us, we deduct those which are entirely lost 
 , h Tespect to our immortal souls, how little of life will 
 emain! From this calculation may we not reckon that 
 aman of seventy has Jost more than fifty years, and that 
 ne of fifty could scarcely reckon seven which he has 
 employed tor his eternal happiness? 
 ‘Merciful God! what a melancholy and humiliating 
 Pe is this! How many millions of days and hours, 
 3) 
 
 Bite 
 
222 OCTORER XXXVI. 
 
 granted us, by thy fatherly goodness, for our 
 
 welfare, have been shamefully consumed in idleness 
 vice, in giving way to criminal passions, and in inj 
 our fellow-creatures? With what inconceivable ra 
 dity does time pass away? An hour is irrecoverg 
 lost ere we perceive it; and an hour is a great dea 
 man, who can easily reckon the hours of his Jif 
 * Teach us, O Lord, so to number our days, that 
 may apply our hearts to wisdom.” “s 
 
 OCTOBER XXVI. 
 ‘The End of Summer. 
 
 ‘Tur sun is now casting his rays feebly on the ea 
 and every thing begins to assume a different appearan 
 The earth, which was lately so beautiful and fruitfw 
 now becoming poor and barren. We no longer h 
 that fine enamel! of the trees in blossom, the cha 
 spring, the magnificence of summer, those diffe 
 tints and shades of verdure in the woods and me: 
 the purple grapes, nor the golden harvest which eroy 
 ed our fields. The trees have lost their clothing: 
 pines, the elms, and oaks, bend with the force of 1 
 northern blast. The rays of the sun are too feeble 
 warm the atmosphere or to penetrate the earth, 1 
 fields which have bestowed so much upon us, are 
 exhausted, and promise no more for this year. I 
 melancholy changes must necessarily diminish our 
 sures. When the earth has lost its beautiful v 
 its lively colours, its brillianey, and in a manner 
 glory; when the fields present nothing but a damp: 
 and glaomy colours, we lose many of the pleasures whi 
 are received through the medium of sight. 
 . When the earth is stripped of its corn, its gras 
 its leaves, nothing is to be seen but a rugged and wi 
 even surface. ‘The feathered. choristers no longer 
 lute us with their mellifluous songs, nor does any-th 
 recall to the mind of man that universal gladness wh 
 recently prevailed throughout animated nature. D 
 prived of the music of the birds, he hears nothing | 
 the murmuring of waters, and the whistling of the win 
 —monotonous sounds which can only excite unpleas 
 sensations. The fragrance of the fields is annihilk 
 and the sense of feeling is pained by the impression 
 a.cold and humid atmosphere. x 
 
Be? The End of Summer. 295° 
 
 ut in the midst of these melancholy prospects, let 
 ll observe, that nature faithfully fulfils the eternal 
 ¢ prescribed to her, of being useful at all times and 
 imall seasons of the year. Winter draws nigh; the flow- 
 ws are decaying; and even when the sun shines the 
 th no longer appears with its usual beauty. Yet the 
 try, stripped and desert as it is, still presents to a 
 ling mind, the image of happiness. We may recol- 
 ect with gratitude to Heaven, that the fields which are 
 jow barren were once covered with corn and plentiful 
 rvests. It is true, the orchards and gardens are now 
 ripped, but the remembrance of what. they. have be- 
 wed upon us should render us contented while the 
 rth wind howls around our habitations. 
 The fruit trees are stripped of their foliage; the grass 
 f the field is withered; dark clouds obscure the face 
 f the sky; the rain falls. in abundance ; the roads are 
 ppaired, and walking is almost impracticable. The 
 nking man repines at this change, but he who is 
 dued with wisdom contemplates it with satisfaction. 
 ie dried leaves and-withered grass, moistened by the. 
 jtumnal rains, form a rich manure to fertilize the 
 round. This reflection, with the pleasing expectation 
 “spring, must naturally excite our gratitude for the 
 ender mercies of our-Creator. Though the earth has 
 lost its beauty and exterior charms, and is exposed to 
 ‘the murmurs of those it has nourished and cheered, it 
 ws already begun. again to labour secretly within its 
 som for their future welfare. 
 But why is not the moral world equally faithful to 
 wil its destination as ihe natural world? The acorn 
 ways produces an oak, and the vine brings forth grapes; 
 hy then do not the children of a great man always re- 
 emble him? Why have literary men and eminent art- 
 sts ignorant and stupid descendants? Or why do vir- 
 uous parents produce wicked children? In reflecting 
 i this difference we may find several natural causes for 
 ; and we may see that it must happen in the moral, 
 as it docs sometimes in the natural world. The best 
 vine, for want of a good temperature, produces sour 
 rapes; and parents respectable for their virtues have 
 dren that degenerate from them. In carrying these 
 ections farther, we may look back upon ourselves, 
 d say, Are not our best days also clouded; and has. 
 
 ‘= > 
 
224 OCTOBER XXVIlI. 
 
 not the splendor which once surrounded us disapp 
 ed, like the leaves of the trees? Perhaps our lot in thi 
 world has its seasons; if it be so, we should in the dt 
 winter of lite have recourse to the provisions laid up in 
 the days of prosperity ; and endeavour to make a g 
 use of the fruits of education and experience ;—hi 
 if, at the close of life, we can carry with us to the gr 
 the merit of having lived to the honour. of God an 
 the good of society. ng 
 
 OCTOBER XXVIII. i 
 Magnificence of God in the Works of the Creation. 
 
 “‘ Gop has manifested himself in the creation as a B 
 ing infinitely wise.” There is no creature, however i 
 significant it may appear, that has not its particular de 
 tination; and all animals are formed in the manner b: 
 adapted to the purpose of their existence. This we 
 know with certainty of those we are acquainted wit 
 
 and we may conclude the same of the rest by analog 
 If we begin with the sun and descend to the small 
 worm or plant, we shall be compelled to acknowledg 
 that, to be properly adapted to the end for which th 
 are designed, these creatures could not be formed d 
 ferently, and that for the purpose they are to answ 
 they have no defect. The most minute parts of eae 
 creature are evidently adapted to its use, and serve fot 
 the functions which Ged has prescribed, and the whol 
 animal would be defective, and would but imperfec 
 answer the purpose of its existence, if any one of i 
 parts were injured or taken away. How wonderful is 
 the whole which results from the connexion between 2 
 
 creatures in general! Each is in its place, each has it 
 
 proper functions, and none of these could fail, withe 
 
 causing an imperfection in the whole. When, the 
 fore, we represent to ourselves the Being who form 
 this innumerable multitude of creatures animate and in- 
 animate; who has not only designed each of them for 
 certain purposes, but has disposed and arranged eve 
 
 part of them in the manner best adapted to those pur 
 poses, so that there is nothing superfluous or wanting 
 
 who has, from the connexion between each individu: 
 formed an admirable whole, in which the most pe 
 harmony prevails; must we not, be struck with aste 
 
Magnificence of God in the Creation. 225 
 
 nent, and cry out, ‘“ O the depth of the wisdom and 
 podness of God !”” 
 
 Being infinitely good.’? What multitudes of animated 
 ereatures has his beneficent hand produced! From the 
 bginning of the world mankind have been endeavour- 
 ng to enumerate all the different beings that inhabit 
 he earth, and yet there are daily discovered new spe- 
 ties of them, hitherto unknown. Is not life invaluable 
 O every thing that breathes? Is it not a blessing to 
 the poorest worm? What pleasure then must God have 
 os good, seeing he has bestowed on so many crea- 
 ; the felicity of conscious existence. But of what 
 
 2 would life be, if it were to be immediately taken a- 
 py? God has ordained that every creature should 
 2 as long as was necessary for its destination. He 
 $s appointed to each the place it should inhabit, and 
 ach finds at its birth all that is requisite for the pre- 
 srvation of its existence.—Many animals are born with 
 Aatinct and industry sufficient to seek their own food ; 
 thers, like mankind, are at first taken care of and taught 
 their parents. With what an inexhaustible fertility” 
 God endued the earth for the benefit of mankind! 
 arly six thousand years have elapsed since she began 
 9support the millions of beings that live upon her pro- 
 ctions: and though the world should continue as long 
 again, it cannot be doubted that a sufficient supply of 
 triment would be afforded to the succeeding gene- 
 
 In addition to the blessing of life, how many enjoy- 
 ments and pleasing sensations does the Creator grant 
 animated beings, and particularly to man! How 
 enificently has he adorned and beautified the world, 
 ae place of his habitation! What comforts has he be- 
 ywed upon him in social life! What tender ties, what 
 arm affections, and what delightful sentiments, has he 
 ated for the heart to enjoy! Let us never be un~ 
 teful to such a bountiful Creator; but since we are 
 owed with reason, and are capable of knowing and 
 ving him, let us acknowledge, ‘ that the earth is full 
 of the mercies of the Lord.” 
 
 In the creation God has manifested himself as a 
 ing ef infinite power.” This unlimited power, which 
 visible in all creatures, is particularly so in the twa 
 
226 OCTOBER XXVIII. 
 
 extremes, in the greatest and in the most minute works 
 of the universe. What but an Almighty Hand ca 
 have constructed the firmament, that immense extent, 
 that prodigious space which contains such a number of 
 celestial bodies? Who but a Being infinitely powerful 
 could have hitherto preserved this immense fabric, | 
 tablished it so that it cannot be shaken, and yet, uy 
 port it in all its various and appointed motions 
 else could have rajsed the sun to such a stupendo 
 height, appointed his precise situatian, prevented | 
 deviating from it, and supported him without a prop in 
 the immensity of space? Could any thing less than in- 
 finite power have given motion to the earth, the 
 and other planets, so that they should invariably r¢ 
 in their appointed orbits, and finish and recom 
 their revolutions at certain appointed periods ? 
 If we consider the Divine Omnipotence in the sma 
 est objects, we shall find it there as incomprehensib! 
 as in the largest. Let us cast our eyeson the dust 
 neath our feet. This dust is inhabited by an innum 
 able multitude of animals, so small that several millic 
 of them joined together, would not be equal in sige 
 a grain of sand. Yet each of these animals has its @ 
 terior and interior parts: each ‘has its sense and feelin; 
 each is endued with a loye of life, and possesses an ij 
 stinct for its own preservation. Behold the grass of t 
 field, the hairs of your head, and the blossoms of | 
 trees; study their construction, their origin, and us 
 and in all these you will clearly discover the infini 
 power of Him who forms celestial globes with as mut 
 ease as he creates a worm, or causes a flower to sprin 
 out of the earth. BY: Lg 
 Lord, how great and numerous are thy works! The 
 are full of wisdom, and the earth is filled with thy bles: 
 ings.—May these reflections excite in us love, respect, 
 and confidence, towards the wisest, best, and m 
 powerful of Beings. 
 
 ; OCTOBER XXVIII. 
 
 Lews of Inertion. 
 
 IxeRTIon is that power of resistance, by which all bo- 
 dies are disposed to remain in the state in which they 
 are, When a body is at rest, it resists the motion given 
 
: Fi Laws of Inertion. 997 
 ‘tit: but when once put in motion, it persists in it from 
 ~ cause, and resists the bodies which would stop 
 its motion, with as much force as it at first resisted the 
 moving powers, Nothing can be wiser than this law 
 ich the Creator has established. By this means, bo- 
 ies move with perfect regularity ; and the laws of mo- 
 ion and pereussion can be exactly determined. 
 f the celestial globes had not this power of resist- 
 be, they could not move with such order and regula- 
 ty, but would constantly require a new impulse to 
 p them in motion. This affords an evident proof 
 t the universe was formed and planned by infinite 
 isdom. Suppress but a little part of the immense fa- 
 =, and the whole would be out of order. Of what 
 ise to us would be the construction of plants and ani- 
 als, or the admirable arrangement of the celestial 
 qlobes, if those bodies were not susceptible of motion ? 
 ow simple does this law appear, and yet what won- 
 Terful effects result from it! Such are all the works of 
 he Creator. The principles are of the utmost simpli- 
 ty, but the whole edifice is so much the more admir- 
 e. The universe may be compared to a magnificent 
 alace. The strong and rugged walls on which the 
 " muilding rests appear to have neither elegance nor beau- 
 _y; yet they are so indispensable, that without them the 
 2ast motion of air would overturn the edifice. -Even 
 se foundation-walls are not totally void of beauty. 
 ne Should be an architect himself, or be well acquaint- 
 [with the rules of art, to be able to conceive the plea- 
 re which the symmetry and construction of founda- 
 ons may afford. None but an artist-can know why 
 nese foundations are of the depth, width, and length 
 hich the architect gave them. He sees they would 
 bt be right if they were otherwise; and by knowing 
 ow perfect the work is, he enjoys the satisfaction of 
 ‘eing able to judge of it. This is exactly the case in 
 wmitemplating the works of God. Every spectator is not 
 apable of discovering the fundamental laws on which 
 st of the phenomena depend, or of comprehending 
 wisdom of them. This knowledge is reserved for 
 ‘true philosopher, and it affords him inexpressible 
 
 tseems as if there were a certain inertion in the mind 
 well asin matter. Bodies which move constantly the 
 
. 
 
 228 OCTOBER XXIX. 
 
 same way, and towards the same point, have a certai 
 tendency to it. The human mind has the same prope 
 sity to acts which are often repeated in the same mg 
 ner. We might make an excellent use of this natural t 
 sisting power of the soul, by making it serve to strengt 
 en us in virtue. Nothing is necessary for this punposi 
 but to repeat frequently the same acts, till we becon 
 as much accustomed to good and virtuous actions, 
 we now are to bad ones. This is so much the more i 
 portant, as without virtue we can never enjoy true 
 solid tranquillity. But whence proceed the errors i 
 which we so often fall in this respect? Why do we con. 
 tinually pursue imaginary blessings which lead us & 
 destruction ?_ Our hearts, seduced by the pride whieh 
 is natural to us, and dazzled by, the deceitful appe: 
 ance of sensual things, cause us to enter the path 
 virtue with a degree of repugnance. But let us not be 
 discouraged by the violence we are obliged to do to o 
 passions and evil propensities. The wicked themse 
 are often obliged to restrain theirs, in order to gain 
 some temporal advantage, or to avoid some misfortuni 
 And this constraint, in not yielding to their sensual de 
 _ sires, must be very painful to bad men. On the con 
 trary, how sweet the satisfaction we feel, when our sou 
 resume the command they ought always to have oj 
 the senses! A frequent exercise of this command may 
 bea mean of conducting us, under the Divine influene 
 to that happy state, wherein the soul is ina manner ral 
 ed above the tumult of passions, and beholds with p 
 the despicable swarm of the slaves of vice. 
 
 OCTOBER XXIX. : 
 The Wants of Man. 
 
 THERE is not a creature on earth that has so many wants| 
 asman. We come into the world naked, ignorant, a 
 destitute. Nature has not endowed us with that indus 
 try, and those instincts, which the beasts possess at 
 birth; she has only given us the capability of acquiri 
 reason and knowledge. In this respect the animals may 
 appear enviable. Are they not, in reality, happy ij 
 having no occasion for the dress, defence, and conye- 
 niences which we cannot dispense with; and in no 
 ing obliged to invent, or exercise, such a multitud 
 
A The Wants of Man. 229 
 
 s and trades as these several necessaries require ?— 
 sy bring with them at their birth, clothes, arms, and - 
 ii they want; or they have those natural instincts which, 
 by being implicitly followed, easily procure them. If 
 hey require habitations, they know how to dig or build 
 them; if they want beds, covering, or change of clothes, 
 they know how to spin and weave them, and how to 
 art with their old ones; if they have enemies, they are 
 ovided with arms to defend themselves; if they are 
 sick or wounded, they know where to find proper re- 
 dies. Whilst we, who are so superior to other ani- 
 als, have mre wants and fewer means of supplying 
 
 [it may be asked why the Creator-has, in these re- 
 ects, given the brute creation an advantage over man- 
 id? And such a question is undoubtedly excusable, 
 it be not attended with complaint or repining. The 
 livine wisdom is manifested in this, as in all other things. 
 Msubjecting man to more wants, God designed that he 
 should continually exercise that reason which is given 
 im for his happiness, and to supply the place of all the 
 urces of other animals. By not having their instinct 
 jassist our numerous wants, we are obliged to make 
 of our reason, in order to acquire a knowledge of 
 ) world and of ourselves. It is necessary to be ac- 
 we, vigilant, and laborious, to preserve us from po- 
 ferty, pain, and vexation, and to render our lives plea- 
 t and happy. Reason is, at the same ° the only 
 an to subdue our strong passions, an prevent us 
 om running into excesses of pleasure, which might be 
 falto us. A few examples may convince us of this. 
 we could obtai:, without any trouble, the necessary 
 bly of food, and other wants, we should certainly 
 ecome indolent, and should pass our lives in shameful 
 oth. The noblest faculties of man would weaken and 
 ow dull. The bonds of society would be broken, be- 
 se we should no longer depend upon one another. 
 en children would be able todo without the assist- 
 ace of their parents, and still less would they want it 
 fom others. Aj] human kind would relapse into a state 
 f barbarism ; all, like the brutes, would live only for 
 emselves: and there would be neither subordination, 
 tual obligations, nor kind offices. It is to our wants 
 we owe the expansion of our faculties, and the pre- 
 L. 11. U 
 
 4 
 
230 OCTOBER XXIX.' 
 
 rogatives of humanity. They awaken the mind, ere 
 activity and industry, and render our lives more 
 and pleasant than those of other animals. .Our wa 
 have made us sociable, rational, and regular in our n 
 ners; they have given rise to a multitude of useful 
 and sciences. In general, an active and laborious 
 is beneficial and necessary to man. If his faculties a 
 powers be not exercised, he becomes a load to him 
 he falls gradually into stupid ignorance, gross exce 
 and all the vices resulting from them. Labour, ont 
 contrary, sets all the machine into a pleasing motion 
 and gives so much the more satisfaction gnd enjoyme 
 as it requires the more industry, reflectiOn, underst: 
 ~ ing, and knowledge. If, after haying been fed with 
 mother’s milk, we required no assistance or instruct 
 we should only live for ourselves; learning no langua 
 we should make no use of our reason; stupid and 
 foundly ignorant, we should neither be acquainted w 
 the arts and sciences, nor with the noblest pleasure 
 the soul: whereas, now, the wants of children, and | 
 destitute state in which they come into the world, ob 
 the parents, through pity and tenderness, to take ¢ 
 of them; whilst the children, on their parts, are atta 
 ed to their parents by a sense of their own helpless s: 
 and danger, and submit to be guided and formed by tl 
 instruction and example, how to make a proper us 
 their reason, and to respect morality. ‘Thus they 
 become worthy men and good citizens, and lead a 
 tuous and happy life. With such advantages, we 
 easily give up those which the animals appear to 
 over us. We require neither furs nor feathers to ela 
 us; we have no need of teeth and talons to defend 
 nor of certain natural instincts to procure those th 
 which are needful for our subsisence and preserva 
 Such gifts of nature would only degrade or reduc 
 to a mere state of animal perfection. Our senses, Ow! 
 reason, and our hands, suffice to procure us clothe 
 arms, food, and all we require for safety, support 
 pleasure; and enable ts to enjoy all the treasures W 
 nature bestows. y 
 We see therefore, that these wants, of which so 
 complain, are the true foundations of our happiness, 
 the best means which Divine Wisdom and Go 
 
(4 Deine I 
 7 vs i 
 
 On Preseniiment. 231 
 
 freatest advantage. If we were wise enough to employ 
 hem according to these views, we should spare our- 
 elves much misery. There would scarcely be one in a 
 undred amongst the unhappy, who could attribute his 
 listresses to fortune: and we should confess that there 
 3 much more good than evil in the world; that our af- 
 lictions are softened by a thousand advantages; and 
 hat it is in our power, not only to lead a tolerable, but 
 ven a happy life. 
 
 OCTOBER XXX. 
 
 On Presentiment. 
 
 « 
 
 lHE faculty of the soul in foreseeing future events ap- 
 ears in such extraordinary ways, that we cannot but 
 e struck with it. The sensations and representations 
 hich foresight produces, are so obscure and wrapped 
 pin the mind, that we are not conscious of them. The 
 aind, however, draws very exact consequences from 
 hem, and the image of the future presents itself clear- 
 y enough to convince the mind which has that precon- 
 eption. It then forms conjectures and presages, with- 
 ut knowing what led it to do so, and in its astonish- 
 bent taxes ihem for inspirations. This is what we call 
 resentiment, when without being able to account for 
 ur foreseeing some future event, we have an idea more 
 less clear.of it. But it must here be observed, that 
 resentiments are in their nature much fainter represen- 
 ations than sensations; although they cannot be well 
 istinguished when the senses anda warm imagination 
 at the mind into a violent agitation. But when the 
 oul is calm, the presentiments are more distinct; and 
 lis is the reason that they happen generally in the si- 
 pnce of night, in sleep, or in dreams. Man is then 
 bmetimes raised above, himself; the veil between him- 
 elf and futurity is drawn aside; and he speaks of fu- 
 ‘e events, while he is scarcely able to see what pass- 
 s before his eyes. 
 
 A number of facts prove, beyond a doubt, that the 
 ul has this faculty of sometimes foreseeing the future; 
 d he must be little versed in the knowledge of nature,. 
 ho would deny a thing merely because it appears ex- 
 aordinary or inexplicable. This secret émotion which: 
 metimes warns us of what is to happen, really exists 
 
232 OCTOBER XXXI. 
 
 in our souls ; and history contains so many examples 
 this nature, that it is impossible to deny them all. 
 soul is a representative power of the universe, in res 
 to the place it occupies in it. It has the ages < ‘ 
 presenting the past as well as the present; w 
 may it not, in the same manner, represent the 
 and even contingent events? It may use the sa 
 means for this purpose as it did in respect to the pi 
 Provided it has been informed of past events, it can p 
 ceive them as if present, and why should we consi 
 it as impossible that it should be informed also of fut 
 events? There are in the universe millions of spit 
 superior to man, who may reveal to him some pa 
 futurity; or there may be in the human mind some poy 
 hitherto unknown, which may enable it to foresee | 
 mote events. : f 
 But however obscure and inexplicable the causes 
 presentiments may be, it is enough for us to know, 
 they may contribute directly or indirectly to our h 
 piness. Sometimes they warn us of danger, sometin 
 they foretel some pleasing and happy event. In eitl 
 case, these warnings may be useful to us. We are ot 
 to take care that this faculty of the soul, instead of] 
 ing a torment to us, may serve to confirm and inere: 
 our tranquillity. We must particularly guard agai 
 superstition. We must not trust too much to prese’ 
 ments, or draw rash conclusions from them, Wet 
 not suffer them to lead to a neglect of our duties, @ 
 forgettulness of that God in whom we ought to pul 
 sole trust and confidence. 
 
 OCTOBER XXXI. 
 The Heavens declare the Glory of God. 
 
 Ir we wander in the paths of error and vice, it is ¢ 
 tainly not for want of warning or instruction; for w 
 ever is so disposed may find continual opportunities 
 both. There is scarcely any thing in the universe t 
 is not calculated to inform or correct us. Every th 
 combines to give us a high idea of the God we ad 
 Every thing teaches us the respect and obedience 
 owe him. All his creatures declare his power, his ¥ 
 dom and glory, in a language very intelligible to thos 
 who attend to it. The heavens in particular, and a 
 
__. The Heavens declare the Glory of God. 233° 
 
 he heavenly host, the sun, that great principle of life 
 fecundity, eloquently and loudly celebrate their 
 ine Creator. These are objects truly worthy the 
 servation of a rational being; and yet they seldom 
 py our thoughts. Man, in a state of nature, could 
 have no other guide in searching for his God, than what 
 he drew from beholding the'works of nature, and parti- 
 cularly the structure of the heavens; yet from these a- 
 ne all nations formed this natural consequence, that 
 jere is a God. ‘“ When we behold the heavens,”? says 
 Sicero, “« when we contemplate the celestial bodies, can 
 we fail of conviction? must we not acknowledge that 
 here is a Divinity, a perfect Being, a ruling Intelligence 
 which governs, a God who is every where, and directs 
 il by his power? Any body who can doubt this, may 
 $ well deny there is a sun that lights us.””—<‘* Time,” 
 ays he in another place, ‘* destroys ali false opinions, 
 at it confirms those formed from nature. For this rea- 
 n, with us as well as with other nations, the worship 
 of the gods, and’ the holy exercises of religion, increase 
 nd grow purer every day.” This proves the effeet 
 fhich the contemplation of the heavenly bodies had at 
 all times upon mankind. The royal Psalmist, therefore, 
 might well speak of the heavens as having voice and 
 nguage, for they-compelled all nations to acknowledge. 
 em the work of a Supreme Being: ‘“ The heavens 
 leclare the glory of God.””’ There are two ways of con- 
 Jering the heavens and the firmament ; the one gene-_ 
 ind superficial, the other more particular and with 
 ation. The first is common toall who are endowed 
 ith sight. Theyxneed only look up and behold the 
 tarry sky, with all its beauty and magnificence. The 
 ibourer in the field is witness to this admirable scene; 
 ad every day he hears the language of the heavens. 
 ough he cannot comprehend the wonderful construc- 
 ion of this firmament which so attracts his sight, nor 
 sable to make philosophical observations upon it, yet 
 ‘may lead him to inquire, ** What power has formed 
 is vast, this splendid sky? If it be solid, who is the. 
 rehitect ?. What hand suspended all those luminous. 
 dlies at their several distances? and who directs them; 
 move in regular courses?’? Good sense alone would 
 ve rise to these questions; and the same good sense’ 
 sould be suificient to resolve them. But, if one may- 
 
 U 3. 
 
236 A Hymn of Praise. 
 
 A Hymn of Praise. 
 
 Tuou, O Lord, hast created the shining hosts of heave 
 and the myriads of blessed spirits which continually sur 
 round thy throne. The heavens in their vast extent 
 and all the splendor with which thou hast adorned t 
 are only the tabernacle of those sublime beings who kno: 
 and adore thee. 
 
 Thou hast adorned this terraqueous globe witha | 
 sand beauties that delight the mind. The sun whie 
 illumines this world, fertilizes the soil, and enriches 
 with so many blessings, is so firmly established by th 
 hand that he never wanders from the orbit which thou 
 hast prescribed. 4 
 
 At thy command the moon’s paler radiance nightly 
 gleams in the firmament; and wherever we turn our 
 eyes we discover new proofs of thy goodness, and ar 
 constrained to acknowledge that thy blessings nev 
 cease to visit us. , 
 
 Springs and unfailing fountains issue forth, to fur 
 us with a grateful and refreshing beverage. For us th 
 gentle dew irrigates the meadows; while mountains ¢ 
 valleys, fields and forests, present us with a thousan 
 varied beauties. The whole earth, which thy hand sus 
 tains in infinite space, is full of thy riches, crowned 
 thy goodness, and fertilized by thy bounty. 
 
 Let us, without repining, support the afflictions of lif 
 since they are solaced by some moments of present en= 
 joyment, and mitigated by the blessed hope of future 
 felicity. ‘Lhe grand spectacle of nature is well adapted” 
 to raise our drooping spirits, and the beams of divin 
 grace are all-sufficient to dry up our tears. 
 
 But who can fathom the ways of the Almighty? Tf 
 this life good and evil walk by. the side of each other: 
 earthquakes, tempests, famine, war, and pestilence, di 
 turb the repose of mortals, while death spreads wide his 
 devastations without respect of persons. . ; 
 
 A breath overturns us—precipitates us into the tom 
 and reduces our bodies to dust. But thanks be to God,_ 
 we anticipate a new existence, through the adorable 
 Jesus, who has torn away the sting of death, and opens 
 ed unto us the gates of eternal life! o_o 
 
3 ’ Marine Animals. 237 
 
 z- » NOVEMBER I. 
 
 Marine Animals. 
 Ar first it seems difficult to believe that living creatures 
 | e found in the sea. It contains so many different sorts 
 of plants, herbs, trees, and bushes, which so mix and 
 twine together, that it seems as if the paths of the deep 
 ! be impassable, and that nothing but disorder and 
 confusion could reign in this savage place. And yet, 
 | e as it may appear at first sight, nothing is more 
 
 sue than that there are living creatures in the sea con- 
 nected with each other. It is not a few individuals on- 
 ly that the sea contains, but such a number of different 
 Species, that we are far from knowing them all, much 
 can we say how many individuals belong to each 
 cies. 
 
 “In this innumerable multitude of animated beings, 
 ere is no confusion; they are easy to be distinguish- 
 J; and there reigns the same order in the sea as else- 
 here. All these creatures may be ranked in certain 
 lasses ; as they have their particular nature, food, way 
 ‘life, character, and instincts. There are in the sea, 
 pon land, gradations, shades, and insensible steps 
 from one species to another. The one begins where 
 
 e other ends, The stone which is the highest among 
 he minerals, is half of it a plant; the plant which ter- 
 ninates the vegetable kingdom, belongs partly to the 
 |animal ; and the brute which forms the link between 
 jan and beast, has some conformity with man. So 
 sewise, in the sea, nature proceeds gradually from 
 all to great; each species rises insensibly to perfec- 
 tion; and all are connected by one immense chain, in 
 which no link is wanting. 
 | What a prodigious multitude of inhabitants does the 
 contain! What variety amongst them, -in their 
 orms, their instinct and destination! Some are so 
 
 all, that they are scarcely visible ; whilst others are 
 so large, that we are terrified at their enormous bulk. 
 Some are entirely destitute of ornament, and so nearly 
 semble the sea in colour, that they can scarcely be 
 inguished from it ; nature has adorned others with 
 the most lively and beautiful colours. Some species 
 multiply very little, as they would otherwise destroy 
 
238 NOVEMBER Ii. 
 
 and devour all the others: some, on the contrary, are 
 wonderfully prolific, in order to serve as food for men 
 and animals. 
 
 “ O Lord! how wonderful are thy works! in wisdo 
 hast thou made them all.” : 
 
 NOVEMBER II. 
 
 The Wisdom of God in connecting the different Parts 
 Nature. : 
 
 As all the members of the human body collectively form 
 one whole, which is constructed and planned with in- 
 finite wisdom ; so also the different species of natur 
 roductions are so many members of which Supren 
 isdom has composed one perfect whole. A sligh 
 degree of attention may suffice to convince us, that: 
 very thing in nature is Yinked and connected togethe 
 so as to form a perfect system. Different kinds of m 
 neral earths flourish and preserve the vegetable king 
 dom, without which the animals could not subsist. Fir 
 water, and air, are indispensably necessary for the pre= 
 servation of this terrestrial world. There is, therefore, 
 an indissoluble bond between all the beings of which 
 our giche is composed ; aid it nas been aemonstrated 
 by naturalists, that this globe itself has necessary eo 
 nexions with the sun, the planets, and all the creatie 
 But what less than boundless wisdom could combine to 
 gether such infinite multitudes of different substance 
 and form them into one? What but this could link to= 
 gether so many millions of different creatures, in su 
 a manner that they should serve for the subsistence 
 each other? + 
 That we may not lose ourselves in this immense ocea 
 of the creation, let us only consider, for the present 
 our own globe, which forms so small a part of the unt 
 verse. Let us reflect only on what is before our eyes, 
 If we consider the wants common to all animals, w 
 cannot avoid being struck with thé admirable harmony 
 which we-discover in it. Warmth, air, water, and light 
 are indispensably necessary for the preservation of % 
 creatures. But there must be a just proportion of the 
 Too much or two little would be equally injurious, and” 
 would reduce nature into a complete chaos. One de: 
 gree too much in the universal heat would destroy ever, 
 
an 
 
 g God's Wisdom in different Parts of Nature. 239 
 
 living creature. For if our earth, taken in the whole, 
 should receive more of the sun’s heat, the summer, in 
 every climate, must consequently be hotter than it is 
 at present. Experience tells us, that in all countries 
 the heat is sometimes so intense, that if it were to in- 
 crease, or to last longer, men and animals would die, 
 and the plants would wither and perish. On the other 
 hand, if we had less heat, it would be as bad; since, 
 even now, the cold is sometimes so severe, that many 
 animals are in danger of being frozen, and some of them 
 actually perish with cold. The earth, therefore, re- 
 ceives the precise degree of heat which is proper for all 
 creatures; and any other would be fatal. There is the 
 same just proportion in the air. The rising of the va- 
 pours depends chiefly on the weight of the air, and the 
 rain on its lightness. Now, if the air were not to con- 
 dense and to rarify alternately, becoming sometimes 
 heavier and sometimes lighter, we should not have that 
 variety of temperature which is so necessary for the ve- 
 getation of plants, and consequently for the support of 
 animals. 
 
 If the air were in general heavier than it is, it would 
 be more loaded with vapours, clouds, and fogs, and its 
 humidity would render it unwholesome to men, and in- 
 jurious to plants and animals. If, on the contrary, it 
 were lighter, the vapours could neither ascend nor col- 
 lect into the clouds. It is the same in every thing.— 
 Nature always observes a proper medium; and as all 
 the elements are regulated in the manner best adapted 
 for the preservation of animals, so are they in perfect 
 harmony with all other natural things. The air not on- 
 ly produces those variations of temperature which are 
 ‘so essential, but it is also the vehicle of sound. It has 
 been appropriated to our ear: and here again appears 
 an admirable wisdom; for if the air were more or less 
 elastic, more dense or more rare, the ear would suffer 
 by it greatly, the soft and pleasing voice of man would 
 resemble claps of thunder, or the hissing of serpents. 
 The air contributes also to the circulation of the blood; 
 it penetrates even the smallest veins. If it were thick- 
 er, its force would break every thing ; if more rare, it 
 would act too feebly. There are a thousand other con- 
 nexions that different beings have with the air, and yet 
 | it has all the properties which each requires. Now if 
 
 . 
 
 i 
 
240 NOVEMBER Tit. 
 
 we consider that many thousands of plants and anim 
 have equal need of air, heat, and light; that each spee 
 differs from the others, and has its peculiar consti 
 tion; that it is weaker or stronger than others, and 
 that the elements agree equally with all, and sup 
 their different wants; shall we not acknowledge, t 
 boundless Wisdom, to which nothing is difficult, x 
 have formed this admirable connexion and harmony 
 tween so many different beings? In a word, eve 
 thing in nature is formed by exact rules, and design 
 for certain purposes. Not only the trees which rise 
 majestically, the plants which exhibit such beautif 
 forms, the fertile fields and meadows, the horse whi 
 renders us so many important services, the flocks which 
 feed us, the mines which supply us with ornaments an 
 riches, the sea which furnishes our tables with exquis 
 fish and conveys us from one region to another, t 
 stars which shed their influence on our globe; not on 
 these brilliant parts of the creation, but even the hu 
 blest mosses, shell-fish, and insects, contribute to 
 perfection of the whole. 
 Almighty Being! Creator and Preserver of all thing 
 can we contemptate these objects without thinking of 
 thee, and admiring thy wisdom! Without thee, all 
 would be darkness, confusion, and disorder. Withot 
 thy salutary influence, there would be neither ce 
 nexion, harmony, nor pleasure upon earth. 
 
 NOVEMBER III. 
 Bed. — 
 
 Pernars during the summer we did not duly appreci- 
 ate the comforts of a bed; but now that the cold in- 
 creases every day, we begin to know the value of t 
 blessing. If we were deprived of it in these cold nigh: 
 perspiration would be stopped, our health would suff 
 and our sleep would neither be so sweet nor so refresh 
 ing. In this respect, bed is a considerable benefit { 
 us. But whence comes the warmth we find in it? W 
 should be mistaken, if we supposed it to be the be 
 which warms. Far from communicating heat to us, it 
 is from us that it receives it. It only prevents the heat 
 which evaporates from our body from being wasted in 
 the air. 1t confines and concentrates it, oo 
 
i 
 
 yes 
 
 Bed. 241 
 
 ~ We should be more sensible of this blessing if we con- 
 sidered how many creatures must concur to procure it 
 yr us. How many animals furnish us with hair and 
 sere for the purpose! Supposing a common bed to 
 contain thirty-six pounds of feathers, and that a goose 
 should have but half a pound on its body, the spoils of 
 seventy-two geese would be necessary for one bed. And 
 then, how many hands and materials does it require! 
 It is by such calculations that we learn to know the va- 
 - of God’s blessings. We are apt, in general, to re- 
 lect very superficially on the gifts he bestows upon us; 
 but if we examine into them more minutely, we shall 
 view them in a very different light. Let us reflect, 
 then, on the several parts of which a bed is composed, 
 and we shall be astonished to find, that it requires the 
 work of ten persons at least ; that it has cost the lives 
 of as many animals; that the fields must furnish flax 
 for the sheets and quilts; sheep, wool for the blankets; 
 the forests, timber for the bedstead, &c. 
 Similar reflections may arise from the daily enjoy- 
 ment of our most common blessings. Our linen, 
 clothes, meat, and drink, in a word, all the necessaries 
 of life can be obtained only by the united concurrence 
 and labour of many persons. Can we then lie down in 
 ed, without grateful sentiments? ‘We have a thousand 
 easons; at the close of the day, to be thankful to God; 
 ut this alone would be sufficient to call forth our gra- 
 itude. What sweet repose, what rclief after the fatigues 
 fthe day, do we find in bed! 1n these cold nights 
 here is no warmth, not even with great fires, equally 
 ood as that of bed. It gives us, at little expense, 
 mth and rest. Let us then be thankful whenever 
 we lie down, and remember how valuable a blessing. 
 sleep is. We ought to be the more grateful, as there 
 re many of our fellow-creatures who cannot find rest 
 n their beds, or who have no beds‘to lie on. How 
 much are they to be pitied! How many are exposed, 
 n the open air, to the inclemency of the weather, tra- 
 elling by sea or land! How many in prison, or in poor 
 uts, sighing for beds, which they cannot procure. It 
 probable, that a hundredth part of the inhabitants of 
 ‘ey town are in some of these situations. How hap- 
 by are we in comparison! How many of our fellow- 
 reatures are obliged to watch during the whole night! 
 VOL. II. x 
 
242 NOVEMBER IV. | | 
 
 the soldier on duty, the sailor at sea, &c. But the 
 are still more who, though they have beds, cannot r 
 on them. Within a very small circle there are mam 
 sick persons, who are preyented from sleep by pain 
 others kept awake by affliction; sinners by remorse 
 ' conscience; and unhappy people, whose secret troubles 
 poverty, and anxieties for the morrow, do not permi 
 them to taste repose. What is then our duty in respe 
 tothem? If it be not in our power to relieve them 
 therwise, let us at least bestow upon them our pitya 
 our prayers. When we go to bed, let us pray for thos 
 who have no beds, or who cannot enjoy them; and i 
 those who are deprived of sleep by grief, poverty, 0 
 pain. Let us afterwards reflect on our own bed of s 
 ness and death. We shall not always sleep as soundh 
 as we do at present. Nights may come in which w 
 may bathe our couch with tears, and the agonies” 
 death may come upon us; but even these will soon 
 followed by a sweet and quiet repose. If we be re 
 Christians, we shall sleep tranquilly in the tomb, am 
 awaken with renewed strength to behold the face 0 
 our God. In the days of health and prosperity, there 
 fore, let us think of this last bed which Ke earth wil 
 afford us; and let us live so as to reflect upon it wi 
 
 pleasure and consolation. i 
 NOVEMBER IV. d 
 
 Reflections on the past Summer. 
 
 Tue fine days of summer are gone; and, except the 
 pleasing remembrance of having enjoyed them, nothing 
 remains but emblems of frailty. How is the face of na 
 _ ture changed! The rays of the sun fall faintly throug! 
 the gloomy clouds upon gardens stripped of flowers, or 
 fields where there are scarcely any traces of harves! 
 and on hills where little verdure is seen. The air nm 
 longer resounds with the melee of birds. The warb 
 lers of the grove no longer fill the air with their melli 
 fluous notes, and the mournful silence which universal 
 ly prevails is only interrupted by the croaking of ravens 
 and the screams of the birds of passage taking leave 
 us to seek more temperate climates. The flocks have 
 deserted the adjacent mountains, and the bleating 
 Jambs is.no longer heard. How dull and gloemy at 
 
Reflections on the past Summer. 243 
 
 ie fields which lately appeared so beautiful! Instead. 
 ‘a beautiful verdure, they now offer nothing to the 
 t but a dead yellowish hue. -The clouds are full of 
 ling rain; and thick clouds obscure the serenity of 
 morning. 
 Such are the prospects which nature now presents. 
 © can behold them without reflecting on the insta- 
 ty of all terrestrial objects? The fine days have dis- 
 eared, even while we were preparing to enjoy them. 
 have we a right to murmur at the dispensations of 
 Lord? Certainly not. “Let us rather recollect the 
 immer days, with the innocent pleasures they afford- 
 ed, and bless the Ruler of the world for them. What 
 Sweet sensations have we enjoyed, what pure delight 
 jas filled our souls, when we were occupied in contem- 
 plating the beauties of nature, and in watching the 
 mountains and valleys gradually become green; when 
 e thrilling notes of the lark were heard amidst the 
 secy clouds, or the plaintive melody of the nightingale 
 oured along the grove; when every passing zephyr 
 fas loaded with perfumes, when the morning dawn dif- 
 fused universal gladness, or when the setting sun gild- 
 ed the hills and forests with his retiring beams. What 
 ich presents have we received from the gardens, fields, 
 and orchards, equally calculated to gratify our senses- 
 and our imagination! Can we reflect on the months 
 that are past, without a sweet emotion, and without 
 blessing the Parent of nature, who has crowned the 
 year with his tender mercies ? 
 _ We are now living ‘upon the productions of summer 
 id autumn. We have observed how active nature has 
 I during these fine seasons, in fulfilling the Crea- 
 tor’s beneficent views in favour of man. How many 
 mts and flowers have grown up in spring! and how 
 itiful has the autumnal harvest been! The earth 
 las now fulfilled its design for this year, and is going to 
 Tepose for a short time. Thus nature is continually ac- 
 = during many months; and even its present rest is. 
 lot useless: it is silently preparing anew creation. 
 Here let us pause, and seriously inquire, Have we 
 en equally active; have we so employed our time as 
 be able to show the fruits of it? The husbandman 
 w counts his sheaves; ought we not to count some 
 es and good works? or pleasures of sum-. 
 ca 
 
244 NOVEMBER V. 
 
 mer improved our minds, or rendered us more gta 
 ful? Have we raised our hearts towards God in 
 contemplation of nature? What have our employms 
 been in the long summer days? Have we done ge 
 to our fellow-creatures? In beholding the sun, 
 flowers, and so many delightful objects, have we ex 
 rienced those sentiments which such magnificent scene: 
 ought naturally to inspire? Are we conscious tha’ 
 summer has not, like many others, been lost upon wu 
 We are still blest with existence, and are capable 
 reflecting on the spring and summer which have » 
 ed over ; but since the commencement of spring, | 
 many have been removed from the land of the living 
 to the regions of the dead! It is right, O God, | 
 preserver, that we should bless thee for having sp 
 our lives; but Jet us also recollect, that it is possi 
 we may-have seen our /ast summer; and since we m 
 give an account of all the seasons we have passed 
 earth, Jet us henceforth endeavour to re:leem the ti 
 we have formerly lost. ; ; 
 
 NOVEMBER ’V, 
 Inconvenience of the Night. 
 
 At this season every night grows longer; and it canno 
 be denied that this arrangement is in some respects 
 agreeable. For, though part of the night is desig 
 to refresh and strengthen us by sleep, this very ref 
 ment which we require points out the weakness and dk 
 cay of our nature. This is the reason that at night @ 
 labour is interrupted, not only by the want of light, 
 also from the necessity of repose, and from the ania 
 strength and spirits being exhausted. 
 It is therefore natural that the hours of night shoul 
 appear long and tedious, when we are restless and ¢ 
 not sleep. With what impatience does the sick n 
 count the hours, and long for the rettirn of morni 
 Another inconvenience is, that we are exposed to k 
 our way, or meet disasters. When night has spread 
 sable mantle over the earth, the traveller wanders, 
 certain of his way, and, from his inability to trace th 
 path, falls among briars and thorns, bogs and marshes 
 or, stepping over some unseen precipice, is plunged 
 to eternity. In the night-time we are also liable te 
 
 , 
 S 
 
Inconvenience of the Night.’ 245 
 
 attacked, either at home or abroad, by wicked people; 
 for darkness is favourable to all sorts of crimes.. Ano- 
 ther inconvenience is, that the nights are cold; for when 
 the sun is set, and his rays are withdrawn, half the globe 
 is deprived of his enlivening warmth, as well’as of his 
 light ; and this renders the long winter nights very dis- 
 agreeable. Let us add, also, that night continually pre- 
 sents us with an emblem of death. 
 
 There is neither constant day nor night upon earth; 
 and though the time of darkness in winter be long, and: 
 even in summer the days are regularly divided by dark- 
 mess, it is however certain, that God has bestowed more 
 ight than darkness upon the earth, by means of twilight, , 
 and by the light of the moon and stars. 
 
 ~ Blessed be the Lord for the light of the moon and 
 - stars, for the rays of the sun, and the splendor of 
 
 j0on-day! But, above all, blessed be his name, for the 
 ight which his Gospel has diffused in the midst of er-. 
 ror, ignorance, and misery! Let us remember, in our 
 darkest nights, in our hours of sorrow and adversity, 
 hat we are advancing towards the regions of perfect 
 igh and ineffable joy. If sleep sometimes forsake us. 
 n the midst of darkness, if sickness or care force us to: 
 count the melancholy hours, let us comfort: ourselves. 
 with the reflection, that we are not hopelessly buried in’ 
 eternal night, but that we are approaching towards a 
 celestial kingdom, towards that blessed habitation where 
 there will be no change from light to darkness, and 
 where sickness, care, and sorrow will be for ever un- 
 known. , 
 
 Blessed be Jehovah that the night of ignorance and 
 misery which envelopes us here below is not eternal. 
 Heaven and everlasting glory will hereafter be the por- 
 tion of the righteous.  Hasten, thou sun, and ye radi-- 
 ant stars, which illuminate the firmament, hasten to fi-. 
 nish your appointed course; that the time of trial, the 
 revolutions of day and night, and the months and years 
 that are allotted me, may be speedily terminated! May 
 | discover, by the eye of faith, the dawn of that glori- 
 ous day, when the season of darkness which: now sur- 
 rounds me, shall vanish for ever! Blessed morning of | 
 eternity, hasten thy appearing, and realize my anxious 
 =. I long to wing my flight to the bright abodes 
 fielicity, to the ee of that celestial city where 
 
 3 
 
oS 
 
 246 NOVEMBER VI. 
 
 darkness cannot exist, but where an everlasti 
 shall shine on the progress of our knowledge ai 
 happiness, 
 
 NOVEMBER VI. 
 Woods and Forests. : 
 
 I 
 
 Woops form one of the finest pictures which the 
 face of the earth presents to our view. A suiperfi 
 observer, indeed, may consider them as mere col 
 tions of trees, exhibiting a dreary solitude; but a 
 informed person, who terms every thing beautiful 
 is good and useful, will find in them much mat 
 agreeable reflection. These scenes are the more it 
 resting at this season, as the fields and gardens ar 
 longer so pleasant as in summer. Nothing invites 
 more to reflect on the grandeur and beauty of 
 than a solitary wood. The pleasing shade and 
 lence we enjoy tend to collect our thoughts and 2 
 the imagination. The number and variety of th 
 are the first objects which attract our eyes. ~ 
 less distinguished by their difference of height, t 
 their different stems, forms, and leaves. The r 
 pine does not excel in the beauty of its leaves; t 
 are narrow and pointed; but they Jast a long time, 
 those of the fir, and they preserve their verdure in 
 ter. The foliage of the linden tree, the ash, and 
 beech, is much more beautiful and varied. ‘Fheir 
 dure is admirable; it relieves and charms the sight, 
 the broad indented leaves of some of these trees fom 
 fine contrast with the narrow fibrous leaves of oth 
 With their seeds, their mode of propagation, and the 
 tility oftheir fruits, we are, at present, but im 
 ly acquainted. But to what a variety of purpose 
 their timber be applied! The oak, whose growth is 
 slow, and whose leaves do not appear till those of o 
 trees are completely expanded, affords the hard 
 strongest wood; which art has taught the ca 
 joiner, and carver, to work into a variety of use 
 
 so durable as in some instances to defy the rav 
 time. Lighter wood serves for other purposes ; 
 it is more plentiful, and grows quicker, it is also 
 general use. ¢3) 
 To forest trees we are indebted for our houses, 
 
 5 
 
Woods and Forests. 24% 
 
 d fuel, with many conveniences for furniture. And 
 e industry of man has taught him to polish, shape, 
 mn, carve, and form wood into a multitude of things 
 ually elegant and useful. 
 Biivine Wisdom has dispersed woods and forests in 
 more or less abundance all over the earth. In some 
 untries they are at grcat distances; in others they oc- 
 eupy several leagues of ground, and raise their majestic. 
 heads to the clouds. The scarcity of wood in certain 
 puntries is compensated by its abundance in others; 
 and it is peculiarly worthy of remark, that neither the 
 ontinual use which is made of it, the ravages of acci- 
 Jental conflagrations, nor the great quantities consumed 
 /severe winters, have been able to exhaust this rich 
 ft of nature. On the contrary, at the end of twenty 
 ears, we may see a forest where we had formerly dis- 
 pvered nothing more than a low copse, or a few scat- 
 
 Do we not discover in all this the power and goodness 
 of Almighty God? How superior is his wisdom! If 
 we had assisted at the creation, we should probably have 
 ade many objections to woods and forests; we might 
 have preferred orchards and fertile fields. But the in- 
 finitely wise Being foresaw the several wants of his crea- 
 tures in their different situations. It is precisely in coun- 
 tries where the cold is most severe, and where there is 
 post occasion for shipping, that the largest forests are. 
 found. From their unequal distribution, a considerable 
 
 nch of commerce results, and new connexions. are 
 formed amongst men. God intended these advantages 
 
 9 mankind when he created forests. He vouchsated 
 to think of us before we could feel our wants, and mer- 
 cifully anticipated our necessities, before we were cap- 
 able of expressing them. Grant, O Heav¥enly Father, 
 that we may be duly sensible of so many blessings, and 
 pay the tribute of gratitude, love, and praise, so justly 
 due to thee! 
 
 “It is not left to man to plant or keep up forests. Most 
 Other things are obtained only by labour. The ground 
 must be ploughed, and seeds must be sown, at the ex- 
 pense of much trouble and labour, but God has reserved 
 to himself the trees of the forests. 1t is he who plants 
 :. preserves them, and men have little to do with their 
 cultivation. They. grow and multiply independently of, 
 
 = 
 
248 NOVEMBER VII. 
 
 our care. They repair their losses continually by ni 
 shoots, and there are always enough to supply our wan 
 To be convinced of this, we need only cast our eye 
 the seed of the linden tree, the maple, and the elm, 
 From these little seeds vast bodies are produced, whi 
 raise their heads to the very clouds. They were ple 
 ed by the Almighty, and his hand has supported thi 
 for ages, against the efforts of winds and tempests. 
 is God who waters them with dew and rain suffici 
 to make them annually renew their verdure, an 
 some measure to keep up a kind of immortality 
 mongst them. ~ oe 
 
 _The earth does not create the forests which it bea 
 nor, to speak correctly, does it nourish them. The vi 
 dure, the blossoms, and the seeds, which the trees. 
 nually lose and renew, and the sap which is continu 
 dissipating, are losses which would soon exhaust t 
 earth, if that were the only mean of nourishment: 
 of itself it is. a heavy, dry, and barren mass, that dra 
 from other sources the juices and nutriment with whi 
 the plants are supplied. The principles of er ‘ov 
 do not, therefore, proceed from the earth. The a 
 without our aid, furnishes abundance of salt, oil, fi 
 and every other substance which trees require. ; 
 
 O man! thou art overloaded with blessings. Lif 
 thine eyes towards the Great Being who takes pleasu 
 in doing good unto thee. The forests are heralds of I 
 bounty ; and thou must be guilty of the basest ingra 
 tude, if thou art insensible to this blessing of which) 
 very moment may remind thee. 
 
 NOVEMBER VIL. 
 © The Sense of Feeling. 
 
 Ir may be said with truth, that feeling is the univer 
 sense of animals, and the foundation of all other sens 
 tions; for there can be neither sight, hearing, sm 
 nor taste, without contact. But as the touch at 
 differently in seeing from what it does in hearing, al 
 in hearing from what it does in the other organs of se 
 sation, we may distinguish the sense of feeling, prope 
 ly so called, from that universal sensation above-meé 
 tioned. They are both produced through the mediu 
 of the nerves These, of which anatomists reckon 
 
 > ' 
 
; The Sense of Feeling. 249 
 
 cipal pair, resemble small cords or threads, and, 
 riving their origin from the brain, they are distribu- 
 lthrough every part of the body to the very extre- 
 i erever there are nerves, there are sensations; 
 wherever the seat of any particular sense is found, 
 e also are these nerves which are the general or- 
 ns of feeling. There are optic nerves for the eyes, 
 auditory nerves for the ears, olfactory nerves for the 
 se, and gustatory nerves for the tongue; besides those 
 ibservient to the sense of feeling, which, like that sense 
 self, are spread throughout the whole frame; they pro- 
 ed from the spinal marrow, pass through the side o- 
 ces of the backbone, and thus disperse through all 
 ie body. é 
 The nerves which are condticive to the sense of feel- 
 ig are also found in the parts which serve as organs to 
 il the senses; because, independent of their own pecu- 
 ar sensation, they must also be susceptible of feeling. 
 lence it is, that the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, re- 
 pive impressions which depend entirely on the touch, 
 ad are not produced by their own particular nerves, 
 mat the feeling is occasioned by the interposition of 
 tves, is certain; for each member feels more strongly 
 | proportion to the number of its nerves; and the feel- 
 = ceases where there are-no nerves, or when the nerves 
 ¢ been cut out. Incisions may be made in, the fat, 
 | bones, hair, and nails may be cut off, without ex- 
 ting pain. The bone is surrounded with a nervous 
 embrane ; and the nails are fastened in a place inter-~ 
 oven with nerves; and it is only when some of these 
 re hurt that pain is felt. Therefore, properly speak- 
 we should not say we have the tooth-ache, for the 
 h being a bone, can have no sensibility: but the 
 ervye attached to it may occasion pain when it is irri- 
 
 d. 
 Te us here admire the wisdom and goodness of God. 
 | dispensing the sense of feeling throughout the whole 
 ody, he evidently ordained it for our good. The 
 
 r senses are placed in the parts best adapted for 
 igir respective uses, and for their preservation. Now, 
 was necessary for the security and welfare of the 
 » that each of its parts should be warned of what- 
 f might be useful or hurtful, agreeable or disagree- 
 @ to it, the sense of feeling was spread over the whole. 
 
250 NOVEMBER VIII. 
 
 body for that purpose. It is another effect of Divi 
 Wisdom, that many species of animals possess a quick 
 er sense of feeling than men; for it is necessary to th 
 mode of life, and compensates for the want of sone o 
 ther senses. How exquisite must the sense of fee 
 be ina spider, when, in the midst of the web in whi 
 it so curiously spins'itself up, it perceives the smal 
 motion which the approach of other insects may occasion 
 But, without dwelling on the sense of feeling in : 
 mals, it will sufficiently excite our admiration to reflec 
 upon it in mankind. How can the nerves, which: 
 pear to us to be only susceptible of more or less thi 
 ness, length, tension or vibration, transmit so many dif 
 ferent ideas and sensations to the soul? Can there be 
 such a correspondence between the body and soul, 
 nerves of a certain construction should produce p: 
 cular sensations? Has each organ of sense net 
 ordered, so analogous to the corpuscles, to the 
 particles of matter which issue from bodies, that the im 
 pressions they receive from them, should always be fo! 
 lowed by certain determinate feelings? It seems asi 
 there were probability in this conjecture, from the py- 
 ramnidical form of the papillary nerves. But our kno 
 ledge is too limited to decide this point; and wer 
 humbly allow, that this is one of those mysteriés of na 
 ture which we are not permitted to penetrate. hs 
 Let us give thanks to God, that together with the o 
 ther senses with which we are endowed, he has grat 
 ed us that of feeling. Of how many enjoyments shoul 
 we be deprived, if our bodies had less sensibility! W 
 could neither discern what would be advantageous 
 us, nor shun what might prove injurious. Would thi 
 our souls had as lively a sense of what is great and good 
 as our bodies have of pleasure! This moral sense 
 impressed upon our souls. Though it is much weake 
 ed, grant, O Lard! that it may never be effaced. ; 
 NOVEMBER VIII. 5 
 
 * 
 ~ 
 i. 
 
 4 
 ; 
 
 Remembrance: of the blessings we enjoyed in Spri 
 
 and Summer. f 
 
 Come, my friends, let us acknowledge the goodness ¢ 
 the Creator, Let us gratefully remember the time ¥ 
 haye spent in the bosom of joy, when, free from cares 
 
‘ pl | 
 _ Remembrance of the Blessings of Spring. 251 
 
 or anxiety, the renewal of nature filled us with delight; 
 n devotion followed us to the verdant bower, and 
 aven the shadow of sorrow was banished from our habi- 
 tations ; when, hand in hand, we traversed the flowery 
 paths, and admired on every side the vestiges of crea- 
 tive power, and dive preservation. From the thick 
 bush whose ample foliage had attracted the aerial song- 
 sters, the sweetest music burst upon our ears, while 
 friendship, harmony, and guileless mirth, combined to 
 give the highest zest to our enjoyments. Smiling na- 
 ture dealt out her flowers with a liberal hand, and we 
 inhaled the fragrance of the rose: whilst the pink and 
 wall-flower perfumed the circumambient air, and to- 
 wards the evening of a fine day the sportive zephyrs 
 wafted us the sweetest exhalations on their airy wings. 
 ‘Then were our souls filled with mild delight, our lips o- 
 pened in thanksgiving to the Lord, and our voices mix- 
 ed with the songs of the birds. 
 | Often, when the breath of the wind had cooled the 
 burning heat of the air, and the birds felt animated with 
 new life; when the clouds were all dispersed, and the 
 igreat luminary promised 2 continuance of his unobscu- 
 red splendor, pleasure lent us wings and we cheerfully 
 uitted the tumultuous city, to rove in the enamelled 
 felds, or repose in the umbrageous bower. There we 
 were perfectly undisturbed; and wisdom, piety, joy, 
 and innocence attended us to this rural asylum. The 
 )trees waving with the evening breeze, while they cover- 
 ed us with their shade, diffused the most refreshing cool- 
 mess; and nature drew forth rich sources of content to 
 )pour into our pure hearts. There, entirely given up to 
 the Creator, to nature, and to reflections on our own 
 mppiness> our eyes were bathed in tears of joy. 
 \ The songs of gladness, which resounded on every side, 
 ‘accustomed our hearts to gratitude. The cheerful bleat- 
 ings of the well-fed flocks heard from afar; the pleasing 
 ‘sound of the shepherd’s pipe; the busy hum of the bees 
 fluttering round the flowers; the hoarse croaking of the 
 frogs, enjoying themselves on the banks of the rivulets ; 
 ‘all gave us impressions of pleasure, and raised us gra- 
 dually to our Creator. We saw and acknowledged his 
 supreme wisdom in the waters, the air, the quadrupeds, 
 (ae insects, and the rich perfume that exhaled from the 
 ‘Surrounding flowers. A landscape gay and cheerful as 
 
252 NOVEMBER IX. 
 
 the abode of our first parents, presented itself to: 
 view. At a distance we perceived the dark shade 
 ancient forests, and hills gilded by the rays of the s 
 whilst the beautiful mixture of various colours, the 
 ral flowers, the golden harvest, the richly embroid 
 carpet of nature, the treasures of the fields, the s 
 food of the grazing herds, and the bread of man 
 green in the ear, unitedly called forth the grateful p 
 ses of a feeling heart. hind 
 
 There nature displayed before our eyes the ma 
 of its Divine Author, and we then said, ‘* This ma 
 ficent universe is too beautiful to be the abode of 1 
 who can behold it without emotion. For man the wi 
 of the wind bring their refreshing breezes ; for him th 
 silver stream murmurs at the hour of noon, when 
 suspends his labour; for him the corn ripens, and 
 trees bring forth their fruit: all the creation minis 
 to his necessities and his pleasures, though he reg 
 it not.” 
 
 Those, however, who love their God will discove 
 the zephyr, in the rivulet, in the meads and flowers, 
 the blade of grass, and the ear of corn, traces of 
 eternal wisdom, and heralds of his power. The G 
 who created the angel, also formed the minutest g 
 of sand. It is through him that the mite and the e 
 phant equally exist. At the sight of a blade of g 
 as at an aloe, the thinking mind is elevated to its © 
 tor: the muscle, no less than the whale, demonstr; 
 the greatness of the Lord. Are not his powers as 
 in the breeze of the zephyr as in the storm; in a dr 
 of water as in the ocean; in a spark of fire as inan 
 lion of stars? The vast creation is the sanctuary < 
 God, the world is ‘a temple consecrated to his gla 
 and man was intended to be his priest in nature, au 
 not the tyrant and destroyer of created beings. 
 
 NOVEMBER IX. 
 Foreign Animals. | 
 
 Every part of the world has animals peculiar to its 
 and it is for very wise purposes that the Creator 
 placed them in one country, rather than in anoth 
 The most remarkable animals in the southern countries 
 are the elephant and camel.- They surpass all othe 
 
Foreign Animals. 253 
 
 idrupeds in size. The elephant in particular appears 
 
 ‘e a moving mountain, and his bones resemble pillars. 
 s head is joined to a very short neck, and armed with 
 tusks strong enough to tear up trees, or throw them 
 wn. A longer neck could not have supported the 
 ht of the head, nor have kept it in an elevated po- 
 n. But to make amends for the shortness of his 
 ck, the elephant has a very long trunk, which he u- 
 s as a hand to convey food to his mouth without be- 
 obliged to stoop. He not only moves, bends, and 
 it in all directions, as we.do our fingers, but he 
 
 so makes use of it as an organ of smell. His eyes are 
 all in proportion to the size of his body, but they are 
 ht, full of fire, and very expressive. In a state of 
 spendence, the elephant, though wild, is neither 
 uinary nor fierce. He is of a mild nature, and ne- 
 
 akes use of his weapons but in his own defence. 
 Biever injures any person without provocation, but 
 hen irritated he becomes truly formidable: he then 
 at his enemy with his trunk, jerks him like a stone, 
 
 tramples him to death. The elephant eats a hun- 
 fed pounds of grass in a day; but his body being of an 
 
 ormous weight, he crushes and destroys with his feet 
 n times more than he consumes in food. His chief 
 lemy, and often his conqueror, is the rhinoceros, an’ 
 mal somewhat resembling the wild boar,.and which 
 és the horn upon his nose to pierce the belly of the 
 
 ery little attention is required to perceive the wis- 
 m of God in the production of the elephant. He has 
 ained that it should breed in countries abounding 
 th grass, and that it should not become a burden to 
 2 earth by multiplying too fast. The female bears her 
 ung for two years, and does not begin to increase a- 
 ) till the third year. 
 
 The camel is one of the most useful animals of the 
 st. It is admirably adapted to bear the greatest fa- 
 fues in the midst of barren deserts and burning sands; 
 ng able sometimes to live four or five days without 
 ik, and requiring but very little food in proportion 
 ts bulk. It browses the few plants and shrubs that 
 in the desert ; and when it finds none, two mea- 
 res of beans and barley serve for a whole day’s sub- 
 tence. Besides the ae which grows on its back, 
 
there is another singularity in its make. It has two 
 lets, one of which reaches to the stomach, and the; 
 ther terminates in a bag, which serves as a rese 
 Water remains in this without corrupting; and 
 the animal is pressed by thirst, and has occasion to 
 lute its dry food, it draws up into its paunch part oj 
 this water, which moistens the throat, and passes afte 
 wards into the stomach. The ordinary load for a ea 
 mel is from seven to’eight hundred pounds weight, wit 
 which it can travel several miles in an hour, and conti. 
 nue for twelve or fifteen hours each day. It may als 
 be remarked that the fleshy foot of the camel is adn 
 ably adapted for walking in the sands; whereas the h 
 ny hoof of the horse would be hurt or burnt by them 
 
 The most remarkable quadrupeds in the northe 
 countries, are the elk, the sable, and the rein-deer. Th 
 first of these animals is large, strong, and finely shape 
 Its head somewhat resembles that of the mule in forn 
 size, and colour. Its legs are long and strong, and 1 
 hair of a light grey. This animal is simple, stupid, a 
 timorous. It finds food every where; but prefers barl 
 or the tender shoots of the willow, the birch, or the ser 
 vice-tree. It is extremely agile, and its long legs 
 able it to go a great way in a very short time. 
 
 The sable wanders in the forests of Siberia, and 
 much prized on account of its beautiful fur. The hunt 
 ing of this animal is generally the sad occupation of 
 unfortunate wretches who are banished to the deset 
 
 The rein-deer is an animal of a pleasing and el 
 form, nearly resembling the stag. It seeks its own fo 
 which consists of moss, grass, leaves, and the bud 
 trees. The inhabitants of the north derive great ad 
 tages from it: they eat its flesh, drink its milk, 
 yoking it to a sledge, are drawn over the ice and § 
 with astonishing celerity. All the wealth of the L 
 landers consists in their rein-deer. The skin furn 
 them with clothes, beds, coverings, and tents; and 
 tact, they derive from these animals all the necessa 
 of life, 
 
 What has been said of these foreign quadrupeds ma 
 give rise to important reflections. How prodigic 
 the distance between the elephant and the mite! 
 what a wonderful variety is discoverable in the ex 
 form of animals, their shape, their organs, their se 
 
 254 NOVEMBER IX. 
 
Variety of Winds. 255 
 
 ad motions ; and yet every thing is perfectly adapted 
 ad proportioned to the kind of life ordained them. In 
 any parts of the world there are animals which could 
 t bear the climate, air, food, or temperature of Euro- 
 ean countries, neither can it be doubted but there are 
 illions of animals which could no more exist on our 
 lobe, than we could live in the planet of Saturn or 
 at of Mercury. 
 Almighty God! how vast and extensive is thy em- 
 re! Thou hast formed all species of creatures, fitted 
 r the various regions of nature, and adapted to con- 
 jute to the happiness of thy intelligent beings in e- 
 part of the globe! Blessed be thy holy name for 
 r and ever ! 
 
 NOVEMBER X. 
 | Variety of Winds. 
 
 HERE is a great variety of winds. In some places they 
 @ constant the whole year, and ajways blow from the 
 me point. In others they change at certain periods, 
 
 it always according to fixed and regular laws. At sea, 
 
 tween the tropics, and some degrees beyond them, 
 
 e is an easterly wind, which continues the whole: 
 
 tf without any considerable variation. On the north 
 
 he line, the wind blows towards the north-east; and 
 
 ) the south of the line, it blows towards the south-east, 
 
 Fe oF less, according to the position of the sun. This, 
 
 ever, must be understood of the wind that prevails 
 
 the open sea; for if islands or great continen's are 
 yposed to it, the direction may be changed to north- 
 
 t. Inthe southern parts of the ocean, the wind is 
 
 inerally westerly. ‘Lhe nearer to the! coast, the more 
 angeable is the wind, and still moreso on Jand. The 
 
 mistant east wind is chiefly owing to the heat which: 
 € sun communicates to our atmosphere. In the In- 
 
 ) seas there are winds called monsoons, or trade 
 
 ds, which continue to blow in the same direction 
 
 om three to six months of the year, and during a si- 
 ilar period blow in the opposite direction. The causes 
 
 c ese winds have not hitherto been fully discovered, 
 
 we must certainly look for them in the alternations 
 and cold, the eas of the sun, the nature of 
 2 
 
256 NOVEMBER xX. 
 
 the soil, the inflammation of vapours, the condensa’ 
 of vapours into rain, and other similar circumstance 
 There are seas and countries which have winds 
 calms.peculiar.to themselves. In Egypt, and in the I 
 sian Gulf, there often prevails, during the summe 
 burning wind, which stops respiration, and consum 
 very thing exposed to its influence. At the Capi 
 Good Hope, a cloud is sometimes seen to form, ¥ 
 is called the fatal wind, or the ox-eye. It is at first 
 small but visibly increases, and soon produces a fu 
 tempest, which swallows up ships, and plunges the 
 to the depth of the sea. 
 Variable winds which have no fixed direction 
 ration, prevail over the greatest part of the globe. 
 is true, that certain winds may blow more frequenth 
 one place than in another; but it is not at any regt 
 time that they cither begin or end. They vary inp 
 portion to the different causes which interrupt the ec 
 librium of the air; heat and cold, rain and fair weatl 
 mountains, straits, capes, and promontories, may ¢ 
 tribute very much to interrupt their course, or ch 
 their direction. It is also highly probable that 
 causes unknown to us may have effect in the dif 
 modification and alteration of the air, fi 
 One thing particularly remarkable, and which 
 occurs in almost every place, is that a little before 
 rise, when the air is perfectly calm and serene, jus 
 the dawn, there comes a quick easterly breeze, w 
 begins at the approach of the sun, and continues s¢ 
 time after he has risen. The cause of this must be, tha 
 the air, being heated by the rising sun, rarefies, 
 by its dilating, sends the contiguous air towards 
 west; this necessarily produces an east wind, whic 
 terwards ceases as the surrounding air also becon 
 heated. From the same cause, the easterly wind m 
 not only precede the sun in the torrid zone, but als 
 much stronger than in our regions, because the sun 
 more moderately upon us than in the vicinity of 
 line. In the torrid zone, the wind blows conste 
 from east to west, whilst a westerly wind is rarely 
 in these parts. it 
 We may observe, then, that winds are not the effect 
 of chance, to which no cause can be assigned. In this 
 as in every thing else, the Creator manifests his wisdou 
 
The Chase. Qb7 
 
 and goodness. He has so ordained, that the winds should 
 rise from time to time, and that there should be but very 
 seldom an absolute calm. He regulates the motion, . 
 force, and duration of the winds, and prescribes the di- 
 rection in which they are to blow. Even their varia- 
 Hions are extremely beneficial to mankind. When both 
 i and animals have begun to droop under the in- 
 nce of a long drought, a wind from the sea-coast, 
 aden with exhalations, waters the meadows, and revives 
 he face of nature. And when this is accomplished, a 
 Iry easterly wind restores serenity to the atmosphere, 
 ind brings back fair weather. The north wind brings 
 vith it a great quantity of icy particles, and carries off 
 he noxious vapours of autumn. Lastly, to the sharp 
 iorth, succeeds the southerly wind, which fills the air 
 vith an enlivening warmth: and to these continual 
 a we owe our health, and the fertility of the 
 th. 
 Who can make these reflections without adoring God! 
 All the elements are at his command. At his word the 
 forms and tempests roar; they rush from sea to sea, . 
 rom land to land; and at his command all is calm again. 
 jould we not, therefore, put our whole trust in him? 
 who directs the winds as he pleases, will he not. 
 lide our ways? Whilst at his command all the chan- 
 8s of the wind combine for the good of his creatures, 
 we not believe that the vicissitudes of life contri- - 
 to the real happiness of each individual ? 
 
 NOVEMBER. XI. 
 
 b The Chase. 
 
 NTING is one of the chief amusements of a certain» 
 lass of men at this season; but it is to be wished they: 
 id not set such value upon it; for the power man. has: 
 ver animals, and the pleasure he takes in subduing 
 
 hem, is too often mingled with cruelty.. Sometimes, 
 
 deed, there is a necessity that animals should be put. 
 death, in order to make that use of them for which 
 
 are designed, or to prevent an increase that would | 
 urtful to us: but even then their death ought to be - 
 ndered as easy as possible. Unfortunately, however, , 
 is Jaw of nature is very little regarded by the majori- - 
 of sportsmen ; and men, in this respect, show them=- 
 
 iv. 
 
258 NOVEMBER: x1. 
 
 selves to be more cruel than the most ferocious beasts 
 How dreadful to every feeling of humanity is the me 
 of hare and stag hunting! Can it be an innocent 
 
 sure to pursue with implacable fury a poor animal, whiel 
 flies from: us in violent anguish, till, at last, exhausted 
 with terror and fatigue, it falls and expires in horrik 
 convulsions. Is there a human breast that does not 
 bleed at such a picture, or an intelligent being that 
 behold such a scene without sentiments of regret ¢ 
 compassion? To purchase amusement by the death 
 a harmless creature, is to purchase it too dearly; : 
 that must be a dangerous pleasure which habituates me 
 to cruelty and barbarity. It is impossible that the hear 
 of a man passionately fond of hunting should not insei 
 sibly lose the sweet feelings of humanity. Such a 
 soon becomes cruel and ferocious; he finds pleasure is 
 none but scenes of horror and destruction; and havi 
 
 accustomed himself to be insensible towards animals 
 soon becomes so towards his fellow-creatures. . 
 
 Hunting does not appear to me in general an ocen 
 pation which-we can reconcile. with the duties we 
 called upon to fulfil. Without. mentioning, the loss 
 time, a loss in itself of consequence, it is certain th 
 hunting dissipates the mind, and fills it with ideas 
 compatible with serious employments. Gentler amuse 
 ments are more proper to unbend and. divert the mind 
 than those tumultuous pleasures which do not leave us 
 the use of reflection. Hunting must ever appear a dan 
 gerous employment to a moral and religious man; 1 
 ought we not to be afraid of a pleasure which leads) 
 sins and irregularities? How does the health suffer b 
 such violent exercise, and by the sudden transitions fm 
 heat to cold! What excesses, what swearing, wl 
 cruelties are allowed! How are the horses, dogs, 
 even the men, treated! What mischief is done to 
 meadows and fields! Can all these evils be consid 
 as trifles which merit no attention, and which m 
 allowed without scruple or remorse? . 
 
 If we were wise, we should seek. pleasures mo 
 nocent and pure, and such might be easily found. 
 have only to look around us, and we may every wht 
 discover pleasing objects calculated to afford us the 
 sweetest enjoyments. The sky, the earth, the arts anc 
 sciences, our senses, the intercourse of friends, in i 
 
Dreams. 259 
 
 word, almost every thing around us invite to true and 
 | rational enjoyment. Why then should we run after 
 ‘gross pleasures, which always leave remorse and disgust 
 behind them? We have within ourselves an abundant 
 ‘source of pleasures. A number of intellectual and mo- 
 /ral faculties, the culture of which may every moment 
 afford the greatest satisfaction. But it is inthis that the 
 great knowledge of a Christian philosopher consists: he 
 has the art of being happy without much preparation or 
 ‘trouble, and particularly without being so at the expense 
 | of his virtue. 
 
 a NOVEMBER. XIi. 
 
 i? Dreams. 
 fl 
 | Tue soul is not-so totally inactive during sleep, as to-- 
 | leave our faculties absolutely unemployed. Our imagi- 
 “nation is.at work, and ideas and images present them- 
 “selves before us. This is the case when we dream. 
 However, the mind has but little share in them, except 
 -asto memory. If.we reflect upon our dreams, and ex- 
 “amine why they are generally so.irregular and uncon- 
 mected, and why the events they represent are so sin- 
 _ gular, we shall find that it chiefly proceeds from our be- 
 ing more affected by sensations than by perceptions. 
 Bes represent to us persons we have neyer seen, or who 
 lave long been dead. _ These persons appear alive, and 
 _ we associate them with things actually existing. If the - 
 _ soul acted in our dreams, as it does when we are awake, 
 one moment would set these confused and unconnected - 
 ideas in order. But in general the soul does no more 
 \ than receive and follow the images which are presented 
 to it. And though the objects appear very strong, they 
 are in general strangely associated, and have no cohe- 
 _Fency. Sensations succeed one ‘another, without the 
 'soul’s combining or putting them in order. We have 
 _ then sensations only, and not notions, for the latter can 
 only occur when the soul compares the sensations, arid 
 _ Operates upon the ideas which it has received through 
 the medium of the senses. Thus dreams are formed 
 - enly in the inferior faculties of the soul. They are not 
 produced by its own energy, and only belong to the as - 
 = memory. . . ; 
 It is singular that in dreams we never imagine that. 
 
 i} 
 
a 
 
 260 NOVEMBER XII. 
 
 we hear, but only that we see; and it is still more 4 
 traordinary, that the images we see are perfectly like 
 their originals. It seems as if none but the soul of 
 painter could draw such true and regular. pictures; an 
 yet this is performed in dreams by those who know 
 thing of that art. Beautiful landscapes, which we h 
 never observed with attention, present themselves — 
 us in dreams, as true and exact as if delineated by #] 
 best artist. 
 
 As to the accidental causes of dreams, by which fo 
 mer sensations are renewed, without the assistance of 
 any actual and present impression, it may be observed, 
 that in a sound sleep we never dream, because all 
 sensations are extinguished ; all their organs. are ina 
 cessible ; every thing sleeps, the internal as well as 
 external senses. But the internal sense, which first goes 
 to sleep, is also the first that awakes, because it is moré 
 lively and active, and is perhaps more easily moved, t 
 the exterior senses. Sleep is then more imperfect, and 
 consequently this is the time for dreams. former sen= 
 sations, particularly those on which we have not refiect 
 ed, are renewed. The internal senses, which, by inac- 
 tivity of the exterior senses, cannot be taken up with. 
 present impressions, are employed with, and operate 
 upon, the preceding sensations. They act most upom 
 those which have most strongly affected us; and this is” 
 the reason why dreams are generally either frightful or 
 singularly pleasing. ' 
 
 Another circumstance worth observation in regard to” 
 dreams is, that they mark the character of the dream 
 er. From the phantoms which fill his imagination in the 
 night, we may judge whether he be virtuous or vicious 
 A cruel man continues to be so in his sleep, while the 
 philanthropist preserves his mild and benevolent dispo= 
 sition. It is true, that an impure and wicked dream may 
 be occasioned by the state of the body, or by external 
 and accidental circumstances. But our conduct when 
 we first awake will show, whether such dreams ought 
 to be imputed tous. We need only attend to the judge= 
 ment we then form of them. A good man is not indif- 
 ferent about his dreams. If-he has deviated from the 
 rules of justice and virtue in his sleep, he is sorry for it 
 when he awakes. Lt is certain that a mind which falls 
 
 , 4 
 
& 
 
 All Things combine for general Good. 261 
 
 ~ 
 
 asleep with a sense of the grace of God, seldom fails of 
 what may be called heavenly ideas in his dreams. 
 
 ‘ But sleep is not the only time in which our minds are 
 disturbed with odd and fantastic images. How many 
 es are there who dream while awake! Some form 
 ligh ideas of themselves, because wealth, or the favour 
 of princes, has raised them to an elevated rank. Others 
 make their happiness consist in the pride of fame, and 
 feed on the chimerical hope of immortality. Intoxi- 
 eated with passions and with vain hopes, they imagine 
 that they are happy ; but this false and frail felicity va- 
 nishes like a morning dream. Persons of this character 
 have been well described by the prophet: ‘ They re- 
 semble a hungry man, who dreameth, and behold he 
 eateth; but he awaketh, and his soul is empty: or as 
 a thirsty man dreameth, and behold he drinketh; but 
 he awaketh, and behold he is faint, and his soul hath 
 appetite.” 
 
 ~ Let us never seek our happiness in vain phantoms 
 and delusive dreams; but rather let us pray for that 
 wisdom which will direct us to aspire after permanent 
 felicity, and that glory whose radiance endureth for e- 
 ver; and which will occasion no tears of remorse when, 
 pat the hour of dissolution, we take a retrospect of our 
 past life. 
 
 « 
 
 a NOVEMBER XIII. 
 
 |All Things in the Universe are connected together, and 
 combine for the Preservation of the whole. 
 
 Every thing which the beneficent Creator has produ- 
 ced upon our globe is admirably connected together, and - 
 contributes to the mutual preservation of the whole.— 
 The earth itself, with its rocks, minerals, and fossils, 
 owe their origin and continuance to'the elements. The 
 trees, plants, herbs, grass, and all kinds of vegetative 
 bodies, draw their subsistence from the earth, whilst the 
 animals, in their turn, feed upon the vegetables. The 
 earth gives nourishment to the plant, the plant is food 
 for the insect, the insect for the bird, the bird for wild 
 beasts; and, in their turn, the wild beasts become the 
 prey of the vulture, the vulture of the insect, the insect 
 of the plant, and the plant of the earth. Even man, 
 who turns all these things to his own use, becomes him=. 
 
> i 
 262 NOVEMBER XIII. 
 
 self their prey. Such is the circle in which all sublue 
 nary things revolve, é 
 
 Thus all things appear to have been created for each 
 other, and no one solely for itself. Tigers, 
 bears, ermines, foxes, and other animals, provide 
 with furs for our covering; dogs pursue the stag 
 the hare, to furnish our tables; the terrier drives th 
 rabbit from its deepest recesses into our snares; t 
 horse, the elephant, and the camel, are trained: to ca 
 burdens, and the ox to draw the plough; the cow gives 
 us milk, and the sheep its wool; the rein-deer makes, 
 the sledges fly over snow and ice; and the swine, the 
 hedge-hog, and the mole, dig up the earth, that the 
 seed of plants and herbs, béing dispersed, may the more 
 easily propagate. ‘The hawk serves us for fowling, and 
 the hen gives us eggs; the cock’s shrill cries awake us 
 in the morning, and the carols of the lark amuse us in” 
 the day. At the approach of evening we hear the black- 
 bird whistle amidst the leafy shade, and the night is 
 sacred to the melodious warbling of the nightingale. 
 
 The superb plumage of the peacock delights our 
 eyes ; the silk-worm spins its precious web to clothe us; 
 and the bees collect with care the honey we find so de= 
 licious, The sea continually throws upon its shores” 
 multitudes of cray-fish, lobsters, oysters, &c. while a 
 variety of oiner msi, irom the depths of the ocean, 
 
 a 
 | 
 
 wee 
 
 - swarm upon our coasts, and enter our rivérs in shoals; 
 thus furnishing an ample supply of nourishment to 
 men, birds, and quadrupeds. The lantern-bearer, or 
 great fly of Surinam, shines through the night to gi 
 light to the inhabitants of that country. . 
 If we observe the different occupations of mankind, 
 we shall find that they also tend to the same end ve 
 nature has proposed. The mariner tempts the dangers 
 of the sea, and braves the storm, to bring to his native’ 
 land merchandise that does not belong to it. The sol- 
 dier sacrifices his life to his country, and the good of 
 his fellow-citizens. The lawyer is only employed for 
 others. Sovereigns and magistrates, who are at the 
 head of government, devote their time and powers to 
 the public. Parents hoard up wealth for their children, 
 The ploughman sows and reaps grain, of which he con- 
 sumes but little himself. Thus we do not live for our- 
 selves alone; for the wise Author of nature has so or- 
 
> - 
 
 All Things combine for general Good. 263 
 
 dained, that all beings should become useful to one an- 
 other. 
 ~ From these reflections let us learn our mutual duties. 
 The strong should assist the weak ; the intelligent man 
 should assist with his advice those who want it; the 
 Tearned should instruct the ignorant; in a word, we 
 Should love our neighbour as ourselves, and thus fulfil 
 the designs of our Creator. The reciprocal offices 
 yhich men owe to each other, have induced them to 
 brm societies. That which divided force could not ac- 
 ¢omplish, is easily performed by united strength. No 
 erson could erect a fine building, or palace, were he 
 e obliged to lay the foundation, dig the cellars, 
 make and burn the bricks, raise the walls, put on the 
 foof, make the windows, decorate the apartments, &c.; 
 but all this is done with ease when the different work- 
 men assist each other. Such is the constant law of na- 
 ture, that, in all the arts and sciences, nothing fine or 
 excellent can be accomplished without the concurrence 
 hes persons. How many thousands of men does 
 ‘it not require to make a monarch powerful, an empire 
 happy, or a nation famous and flourishing! In all this 
 We recognize the supreme wisdom of our Creator. In 
 order that the inhabitants of our globe, and particular- 
 ly that mankind might be happy, he formed such rela- 
 ‘tions and connexions between all beings, that they could 
 ‘not subsist without each other. Experience daily teach- 
 es that he had our good in view. The whole world was 
 planned for this purpose, and every part of it concurs 
 towards the felicity of mankind. Even those things 
 which appear to us of so little importance, that we 
 Searcely deign to look at them, all contribute to render 
 lus happy. The very insects we so much despise are 
 useful to us. Thousands of hands are daily employed 
 in Satisfying our wants, and thousands of animals are 
 Sacrificed for our support. And in how many other 
 |ways, of which we are ignorant, is nature active in our 
 ur! Merciful and indulgent Father! teach us to 
 — thy goodness and our own happiness; and 
 nay we henceforth resolve to devote-our limited strength 
 and faculties to thy service, and to the cause of righte- 
 ousness amongst our fellow-creatures ! 
 
 | 
 4 
 
266 NOVEMBER Xv. 
 
 which do not seem as if they could haye been produ- 
 ced entirely by snow or rain.—There are many springs 
 which yield an equal quantity of water at all seasons, an¢ 
 sometimes furnish even more in times of great heat a 
 drought, than in moist and rainy seasons. It is, thers 
 fore, certain, that there are other causes both for the 
 origin and supply of fountains. 
 Many springs are produced by vapours, which are 
 carried up into the atmosphere and driven by the wii 
 towards the mountains, or, by the power of universal 
 attraction, are drawn towards those great masses. Th 
 atmosphere is more or less loaded with aqueous vapou 
 which being driven and pressed against hard and cold 
 rocks, condense immediately into drops, and thus in- 
 crease the springs. _ ; 
 We must; however, allow that all springs cannot 
 rive their origin from this cause. For must not the Dz 
 nube, the Rhine, and other great rivers which come fre 
 high mountains, dry up when these enormous masses 
 winter are covered with snow and ice? Certainly th 
 must be caverns, which, by a communication with 
 sea or lakes, contribute to form springs. The sea-wa 
 having gone through subterraneous channels into these 
 great cavities, it rises in vapour through a number 
 crevices, and forms into drops, which, falling again wi 
 their own weight, sometimes take a very different cou 
 because water cannot always penetrate where yap 
 do. Perhaps also the sea-water, particularly in coun- 
 tries near the main ocean, may filter through the groun 
 and produce springs; and these springs generally ta 
 like the waters whence they flow. But those upon h 
 mountains cannot proceed from the same cause, be: 
 cause the sea-water cannot rise so high; and if it could, 
 it would not be so sweet or potable. , 
 All the causes here pointed out contribute a 
 less to the formation of springs; and there may be oth 
 causes unknown to us. It is true, that nature is alway. 
 simple in its operations; but this simplicity does not 
 consist in making use of one cause only for each parti- 
 cular effect. It consists in making use of as few as pos- 
 sible, and does not exclude several auxiliary causes 
 which concur in working the effect which nature pro- 
 poses. : a 
 But though it were otherwise, and though the origin 
 
Hair of the Head. 267 
 
 of fountains were more obscure than it really is, we must 
 still acknowledge God as the creator and preserver of 
 these salutary springs. ‘ Jehovah speaks, and the foun- 
 tains issue from the bosom of the hilis; the springs be- 
 come rivulets, and these swell into rivers, which widely 
 diffuse the blessings of abundance and fertility. The 
 inhabitants of the country allay their thirst in the trans- 
 lucent streams, and seek repose in the umbrageous groves 
 through which they gently flow.” 
 
 ~ It is God who causes these useful fountains to spring 
 from the high places of the earth: sometimes they wind 
 among the mountains; at other times they precipitate 
 themselves in cataracts from lofty eminences, being 
 augmented by atmospheric exhalations, or by the union 
 of different streams. Thus our God preserves in the 
 kingdom of nature that continual circulation of foun- 
 tains, rivulets, and rivers, which conduces so essentially 
 to the fertility of the earth, the salubrity of our dwell- 
 ings, and the draining of waters, which might otherwise 
 prove injurious by their too great abundance. 
 
 iw 
 
 nt NOVEMBER XVI. 
 Hair of the Head. 
 
 Ir we consider the curious construction of the hair of 
 ur heads, we shall find it worthy our attention, and 
 iscover in it evident traces of the Divine power and 
 wisdom. 
 
 - Ineach entire hair we distinguish an oblong slender fila- 
 tie with a knot or bulb at the root, which is generally 
 
 thicker, and always more transparent than the rest. The 
 ‘thread is the body of the hair, and the knot is the root. 
 The long and principal hairs of the head have their root, 
 and even a part of the filament, enclosed in a little case, 
 formed by asmall membrane. The size of this is in pro- 
 portion to the size of the root, always large enough to - 
 we » little space between the root and the case. The 
 root has two parts, the exterior and the interior; the 
 exterior is a pellicle composed of little flakes ; the inte- 
 tior is a glutinous fluid, where some slender fibres meet: 
 this is the marrow of the root. From the external part 
 of the bulb proceed five, and sometimes (though very 
 seldom) six, little white threads, extremely fine, trans- 
 parent, and often twice * long as the root. Besides - 
 2 
 
268 NOVEMBER XVI. 
 
 these threads, little knots are seen here and there; bw 
 they are viscous, and easily dissolved by heat. From 
 the inside of the root grows the body of the hair, com 
 posed of three parts; the external sheath, the inte; 
 tube, and the marrow. 
 When the hair has arrived at the pore of the sk 
 through which it is to pass, it is strongly enveloped i 
 the pellicle of the root, which then forms a very sm 
 tube. The hair pushes out the cuticle before it, whi 
 serves as a Sheath to guard it at first, while it is still sof 
 and tender. The rest of the envelope, or coat of the 
 whole hair, is of a particular substance; it is transpa 
 rent, and more so towards the point. In a young haj 
 the coat is soft; but it becomes afterwards so hard ané¢ 
 elastic, that it shrinks back with some noise when it 
 cut. This external coat preserves the hair a long ti 
 Immediately under it are several small fibres, which 
 tend the whole length of the hair from the root to 
 point. They are joined toeach other, and to the poi 
 by several elastic threads. And this collection of fib 
 forms a tube filled with two substances, one fluid, 
 the other solid; which together compose the marrow | 
 the hair. 
 An attentive observer of God’s works will acknow 
 ledge the Divine wisdom in the admirable constructi 
 of the hair, as well as in all other parts of the hu 
 body. There is nothing in the formation of man, from 
 the crown of the head to the sole of the foot, that doi 
 not show the perfection of the Creator. Even those 
 parts which seem of least importance and the most ea 
 to be dispensed with, become of consequence when cea 
 sidered as connected with the other members of the bo: 
 dy, or when their admirable construction and design at 
 _ properly investigated. This we may particularly ob 
 serve in respect to our hair. How many people 
 there who consider it,as an object not worth attentioi 
 and do not discover in it any traces of the wisdom a 
 goodness of God! But, besides that in general there 
 no part of our bodies useless or without design, it 
 very easy to discover the wise purposes for which I 
 was given to us. 
 In the first place, it is visible that hair contributes to 
 the beauty and ornament of the face; but this is p 
 haps its smallest use. It evidently preserves the h 
 
Lod n 
 System of the Universe. 269 
 
 from cold and damp, so as to keep the brain in its na- 
 ‘tural state of warmth. It also promotes a gentle and 
 pen evacuation of bodily humours by perspiration; 
 }and relieves the head and other nobler parts from the 
 ‘superfluous moisture which might otherwise collect 
 Beere. The hair may answer many other purposes with 
 ich we are, at present, unacquainted. But let us 
 ontent ourselves with having been informed of some of 
 
 the ends which God has proposed to himself; for these 
 will afford us sufficient subjects to acknowledge and a- 
 dore the power, wisdom, and goodness of our Creator. 
 
 * 
 
 y NOVEMBER XVII. 
 . System of the Universe. 
 
 Hituerro we have been considering the earth, which 
 but a-speck in comparison of the system of the uni- 
 yerse. Let us now raise our thoughts to those innu- 
 aerable worlds, at the sight of which, this spot that we 
 d millions of other creatures inhabit, will appear as 
 Mothing. Let us examine, contemplate, and adore. 
 __ The sun, which gives life to every thing, is almost in 
 the centre of the system ; and, without changing place, 
 turns round his own axis, froin east to west, in about. 
 enty-six days. All the planets, from Mercury to the 
 Tipe cl Sidus, move round the sun in oblong or el- - 
 
 iptic circles. 
 
 Mercury, which of all the globes is nearest to the 
 ‘sun, performs his revolution in 87 days, 23 hours, and 
 minutes; but by reason of his proximity to the sun, 
 - is generally buried in his rays, and is consequently 
 invisible to us. 
 
 - Venus describes a larger ellipsis, and finishes her 
 
 ‘course in 224 days, 16 hours, and 49 minutes. 
 
 _ The Earth compictes her revolution in 365 days, 5- 
 
 hours, and 49 minutes, forming what we commonly. 
 
 term a year; and the moon finishes hers in the same - 
 
 ‘Space of time. 
 
 _ Mars finishes his course in 686 days, 23 hours, and : 
 
 30 minutes. 
 
 _ Jupiter and his four moons in about 4332 days and 8 ; 
 
 hours; nearly twelve of our years. 
 
 _ Saturn and his seven yet i takes 10,761 days and.t 
 3 
 
270 NOVEMBER XVII. 
 
 14 hours, a space of time nearly equal to thirty of ot 
 years, in describing his immense orbit. 4 
 Lastly, the Georgium Sidus, with his six moons, pet 
 forms his revolution in 30,445 days, upwards of ei; 
 of our years. f : 
 But are these the bounds of the universe? No, 
 tainly. Far beyond the Georgium Sidus is the reg 
 of fixed stars, the nearest of which is at least 400, 
 times further from the earth than the earth is from th 
 sun, though his mean distance from us.is not Jess than’ 
 ninety-five millions of miles, or 23,799 semidiameters of 
 the earth, How many globes also may there be in the 
 great space between Saturn and the fixed stars, that a 
 not visible to us. ‘ 
 But is it possible that the sun, which appears to tra. 
 verse the sky in twelve hours, should remain fixed im 
 the centre of the universe?’ Do we not in the mornin 
 see it in the east, and.in the evening in the west? And 
 can the earth move continually round the sun withow 
 our perceiving it? 
 This objection, founded on the illusion of our senses, 
 is in reality of no weight. Do we perceive the motion 
 of a boat in sailing upon the river? and when we are if 
 a boat or carriage, does it not-seem as if every thing 
 round us moved, and as if all the objects went back 
 of their places, though in reality they never move?— 
 However our senses may be deceived in this respect 
 our reason compels us to acknowledge the truth and 
 wisdom of the theory which asserts the motion of the 
 earth. Nature always acts in the shortest, easiest, a 
 simplest ways. By-the single revolution of the earth 
 round the sun, we can account for the different appea 
 ances of the planets, their periodical changes, their : 
 - tuations, and their direct and retrograde motions. And 
 is it not much more natural and easy, that the earth 
 should turn round its axis in twenty-four hours, that 
 that such great bodies as the sun and planets shou 
 move round the earth in that space of time? Qne une 
 deniable proof of the sun, and not the earth, being in 
 the centre of the universe is, that the motions and d 
 tances of the planets depend upon the sun, and not 1 
 on the earth. If it were otherwise, where would be 
 harmony and perfect conformity which is now so evi- 
 dent in all the works of the Creator? According to our 
 
 yy 
 UJ 
 
 s 
 
; Lobsters. 272 
 
 iypotliesis, each planet has the same motion we attri- 
 \bute to the earth. 
 
 ae These reflections on the system of the universe are 
 jealculated to give us the highest idea of our adorable 
 /Creator, ard to make us sensible of our own insignifi- 
 }eance. With what pleasure does the mind pass from 
 ne idea to another, till it is lost in the contemplation 
 ‘these great objects! With what profound veneration 
 and admiration does it feel the greatness of its God! It 
 is true, that the limits of the human understanding will 
 ‘Dot permit us to have an exact and perfect knowledge 
 ‘the solar system; but we know enough to be convin- 
 ced that the whole is planned with infinite wisdom and 
 odness, and that no system could.be formed more 
 ‘beautiful, more worthy of the Supreme Being, or more — 
 yeneficial to the inhabitants of the different globes. 
 
 NOVEMBER XVIII. 
 Lobsters. 
 
 lobsters were of no value to-us as food, they would 
 ill be worthy our attention. The females a little be- 
 re this time of the year, undergo a great change. They- 
 east off their old shells, and acquire new ones. This is 
 rmed.their moulting. In thus changing their cover- 
 ngs they increase in size, and this mode of growth is. 
 mmon to all crustaceous animals: they augment in 
 ulk every time they throw off their old shells, and this ' 
 peration is very painful. At the same time that they 
 ange their shell, they renew their stomach and intes- - 
 es. The animal, while itis moulting, seems to feed 
 Upon its former stomach, which wastes by degrees, and. 
 is replaced by anew one. The little round white stones, 
 improperly called crab’s eyes, begin to form when the 
 Stomach is consuming, and are afterwards enclosed in 
 the new one, where they gradually diminish, till at last 
 they entirely disappear. 1t is probable that the animal 
 uses them as a remedy for the disorders of its stomach; 
 or perhaps this matter has a petrifying quality proper 
 for forming a new shell. 
 | Except at the time of casting their shelis, the lobsters 
 keep at the bottom of the water near the shore. In 
 winter they prefer deep water: but in summer they draw 
 near the shore, if the want of food does not oblige them | 
 
 = 
 
272. NOVEMBER XVIII. 
 
 to plunge deeper into the sea. That they may cate 
 their prey more easily, nature has given them several | 
 claws and legs. Sometimes they have claws as large as | 
 their head and body together, and, what is still mor 
 singular, they have the faculty of producing new claws 
 and horns when they have been broken off. They can 
 even get rid of them when they become inconvenie! 
 They can perform this operation in any posture; but 
 they do it more easily when they lie on their backs. If 
 with strong iron pincers the shell be broken, and the 
 flesh bruised, at the third or fourth joint of the claw 
 as soon as the wound is made, the lobster in its pai 
 shakes it about till it falls from the body. When thi 
 claw is broken, a gelatinous substance oozes out, ¢ 
 staunches the blood; but if this were taken away 
 animal would bleed to death. This substance envelope: 
 what we may call the bud of the new limb; which at 
 first appears only as an excrescence, or a little cone, 
 By degrees this cone lengthens into the form of a claw, 
 and becomes as perfect as the old one. “s 
 The manner in which these animals are propagated 
 is very singular. The prolific substance is found in 
 male in a very long thread; and the sex is disting 
 ed by a double hook under the tail, which is not 
 servable in the female. These animals become p 
 nant about autumn, and if a female be opened at that 
 time, several red clots may be perceived, which are the 
 evidences of impregnation. These gradually disappear, 
 and a number of little round.eggs like hemp-seed are 
 found under the tail, fastened together by small fibres. 
 The first eggs appear in December, and soon increasé 
 to hundreds. ‘They enlarge by degrees, as the weat 
 grows warm; and before midsummer there are little 
 lobsters found amongst the eggs, the size of an a 
 which adhere to the fibres under the tail, where th 
 remain brooding till all the eggs are hatched. They 
 terwards detach themselves from their mother, and cling 
 to the fibres and roots of trees which they find in the 
 water near the shore, where they remain till they are 
 strong enough to venture into the sea. . : 
 The lobster is certainly one of the:most extraordina- 
 ry creatures in the world; an animal whose skin is @ 
 shell, which it casts off every year, to clothe itself with 
 new armour; an animal whose flesh is in its tail and 
 
Situation of all the Parts of the Human Body- 273 
 
 es, and whose hair is in the inside of its breast; whose 
 pmach is in its head, and is annually renewed, whilst 
 ie first function of the new stomach is to digest the old 
 ne; an animal that carries its eggs within its body till 
 y are impregnated, and afterwards carries them ex- 
 ally under its tail; an animal with two stones in its 
 ach, which are engendered and grow there, and 
 which it feeds itself tiJl they are consumed ; an a- 
 nal which can throw off its legs when they become trou- 
 some, and replace them with others; and whose eyes 
 placed in long moveable horns.—So singular a crea- 
 e will perhaps ever remain.a mystery to the human 
 pd. it affords new-subject, however, to acknowledge 
 adore the power and wisdom of the Creator. 
 
 NOVEMBER XIX. 
 
 dvantageous Situation of all the Parts of the Human 
 Body. 
 
 F we examine the human body with attention, we can- 
 but observe that all the parts of which it is compo- 
 are placed in the manner best adapted for their se- 
 ral uses. The wisdom of the Creator has allotted to 
 member its proper place; and, in the formation of 
 t bodies, he has not only attended to our wants and 
 onveniences, but even to ornament and beauty. 
 ith respect to our wants, it is evident that all the 
 sare placed in the most advantageous manner. Our 
 y is a machine designed to move of itself by the pow- 
 ven to it, without requiring any impulse from ex- 
 force. Jt was necessary that our limbs should per- 
 ‘orm with ease and promptness the will of our minds. 
 1 the bones are joined together ;—but, in order that 
 2 should use our limbs without difficulty, stretch or 
 Ww in an arm, stoop or rise as we please, the bones 
 ire divided into joints, and each bone is rounded at the 
 ad, and set within the spherical cavity of another bone, 
 e it moves with ease, because it is covered with a 
 oth polished cartilage, and moistened with an oily 
 mour, which prevents any injury from friction. It is 
 eculiarly remarkable that these bones are so firmly fix- 
 in their sockets that they do not slip or move from 
 | other, though the feet bear so great a burden, and 
 nds are sometimes obliged to lift a weight of more 
 
- 
 
 274 NOVEMBER XIX. 
 
 than a hundred pounds.—In placing the parts of the be 
 dy, God has also attended to our convenience. 
 determination and will of the soul may be execut 
 the organs of the body without any difficulty or obs 
 cle. By means of the senses, it is immediately infor 
 ed of whatever interests it, and the several members’ ¢ 
 the body directly obey its orders. The eye, as it is ¢ 
 signed to watch over the whole person, occupies 
 highest place. It can turn freely on all sides, and 
 serve every thing that passes. The ears also are pl 
 in a distinguished part, at the two sides of the he 
 and are open night and day, to convey to the soul evs 
 impression of sound, and to make it attentive to 
 least noise. As our food passes through the mouth 
 to the stomach, the organ of smell is placed immedi 
 ly above the mouth, to guard it, as the eye also 
 from receiving any thing corrupted or improper. Ast 
 the sense of feeling, it has not its seat in any partic 
 lar place, but is diffused over all parts of the body, i 
 order to make us sensible of pleasure and of pain; « 
 those things that are injurious, and of those things the 
 are salutary. The arms are the ministers the soul et 
 ploys to execute most of its desires, and are therefor 
 placed near the chest, where the body is the strongest 
 and, without being too far from the lower parts, are mos 
 conveniently situated for every sort of exercise and | 
 bour, as well as for the defence of the head and othe 
 members. 
 Lastly, the Creator in the formation of the huma 
 body, has deigned also to attend to its beauty. T 
 consists in the visible harmony, the exact proportion 6 
 the limbs, and the pleasing mixture of colours in a fir 
 and delicate skin. We may observe, that those par 
 of the body which are double, as our eyes, ears, arms 
 and legs, are placed on each side the body, at an equa 
 height, answering to right and left; whereas those the 
 are single, as the forehead, nose, mouth, and chin, ar 
 placed in the middle. This proportion appears in th 
 great as well as in the small. The length of the solec 
 the foot makes the sixth part of the height of the whol 
 body, as the face makes the tenth. In children th 
 head is larger than it ought to be in proportion to th 
 rest: because the head being the chief part of the bi 
 dy, and the seat of the senses, it ought to come # 
 
Order and Regularity of Nature. 275 
 
 er to perfection; and the more so, as being com- 
 osed principally of bone, it could not extend so much 
 e fleshy members, which it must otherwise have 
 one ; for we observe, that in infancy all the limbs grow 
 t the same time, and spread with the most exact pro- 
 ortion, in length, breadth, and thickness, according to 
 ae size of the whole body. 
 Admire, O man! the perfection and beauty of thy 
 ody; the admirable connexion, harmony, and propor- 
 n of all its parts. Observe how all thy members are 
 onnected, without their ever being embarrassed, or 
 mpeding each other in their different functions; but 
 ney are placed in the manner best adapted for their 
 €, and so as to assist one another mutually. The or- 
 ims are SO many springs in this admirable machine.— 
 correspond with each other, and act in concert to 
 fil the several purposes for which they were design- 
 d. Be careful not to destroy this machine so curious- 
 contrived, nor to deform it by excesses and irrregu- 
 ties. Beware of degrading it by shameful passions. 
 Jn the contrary, let thy body ever remain a monument 
 f the wisdom and goodness of God. But, above all, 
 yer neglect thy soul, which has been degraded by 
 in, but endeavour that it may be restored to its origin- 
 ‘purity by the mediation of thy Redeemer. It is by 
 his alone that thou canst be compensated for the change 
 hy body will undergo, when it shall return to the dust 
 hich it was formed. 
 
 nk NOVEMBER XxX. 
 Order and Regularity of Nature. 
 
 Di 
 is contemplating the world we every where discover 
 es of a Supreme Intelligence directing the whole, 
 h foresaw all the effects that were to result from 
 € powers it impressed upon nat+:re, and which num- 
 ered, weighed, and measured all things with infinite 
 isdom. 
 | Thus the universe, once formed, may always con- 
 ue and constantly fulfil its designs, without the ne- 
 ity of changing any of the laws originally establish- 
 _ This is not often the case in respect to the works 
 Pman. ‘The best-contrived machines soon fail to an- 
 ver the intended purposes. They require to be fre- 
 
 iy 
 
 7 _ 
 ) 
 
 = 
 
276 NOVEMBER XX. : \ 
 
 quently repaired ; and are soon spoiled and out of ¢ 
 der. The cause of these faults is in the original co 
 struction ; for there is no artist, however skilful, wl 
 can foresee all the changes to which his work is liab] 
 much less is he able to obviate them. 
 The corporeal world is also a machine ; but the part 
 of which it is composed, and their several uses, are num 
 berless. It is divided into many luminous and opaqu 
 globes, which serve as habitations for an infinite mult 
 tude of living creatures. The opaque globes revoly 
 round the luminous ones, in their prescribed orbits 2 
 limited times, in order to receive from them light at 
 heat, day and night, seasons and various climates, fi 
 and growth, according to the nature and wants of # 
 different inhabitants. The situation of the planets a 
 their mutual gravitation are so diversified, that it see 
 almost impossible to determine beforehand the time 
 their returning to the point whence they set out, to be 
 _ gin again their periodical course; and yet notwithstant 
 ing the variety of phenomena which these globes pr 
 sent, and the astonishing number of their movements 
 in the course of thousands of years, these enormous 
 masses have never struck against, nor interrupted each 
 other in their revolutions. All the planets regular 
 run their course in the time prescribed them ; and ¢e 
 stantly preserve their direction and respective distances 
 from the sun. The fixed stars are the same now @ 
 they*were a thousand years ago. The distances, pro- 
 jectile forces, right ascensions, declinations, parallaxe: 
 and directions of all the celestial bodies are perpetual 
 ly the same. - The sun also. is still at the same height 
 the days and nights, years and seasons, are all wha 
 they were formerly ; and all afford incontestable proofs 
 that in the first arrangement of the heavenly bodies 
 and the regulation of their course, the Author of n 
 ture foresaw and determined the future state of the 
 world, and of all its parts, to the end of time. i 
 The same may be said of our earth, which is annual- 
 ly subject to many revolutions and changes of clim 
 For, though it seems at first as if-fine weather, co 
 heat, dew, rain, snow, hail, lightning, storms, and wi 
 were dispensed by chance; as if it were by mere 
 dent that the waters overflow the earth, changing! 
 into lakes, and in other places seas appearing where 
 
Order and Regularity of Nature. 27 
 
 sre were continents, mountains forming while others 
 re mouldering away, rivers drying up or changing their 
 urse; yet it is certain that each modification of our 
 rth has its sufficient cause in the preceding modifica- 
 jon; this in that which preceded it; and the same from 
 : beginning of all things. But nothing is more cal- 
 lated to make us sensible of our ignorance in respect 
 he particular causes of natural events, and their con- 
 ion with the future, than this variety which we ob- 
 rye in the temperature of the air; a variety which has 
 ch an effect on the appearance and the fertility of our 
 e. In vain we repeat our meteorological observa- 
 ms: we cannot deduce from them any certain rules 
 d consequences for the future, and we shall never find 
 le year perfectly like another. Yet we are well con- 
 iced that these continual variations, this apparent dis- 
 ler in the elements, do not destroy our globe, do not 
 sr its form, or make it.an uninhabitable chaos; but 
 3, on the contrary, the true means of preserving from 
 to year its order, fertility, and abundance. Since, 
 wefore, each present modification is founded upon 
 ¢ former, it is evident that the elements were not 
 rmed and combined by a blind chance ; but that, from 
 fe beginning, Boundless Wisdom produced, combined, 
 d mixed the elements, measured their force, and de= 
 
 nined their effects, to the end of time. 
 Thus the world is not composed of unconnected ma- 
 erials, which have no relation to one another. It is 
 p regular and perfect whole, the construction and 
 of which is the work of a Supreme Intelligence. If 
 behold in the world a multitude of beings of the same 
 mre and design with ourselves, and connected with 
 in many respects ; if we discover a still greater num- 
 of species of other creatures, which are also more 
 ss mutually connected; if we acknowledge, that by 
 mixture and action of the elements, all these ani- 
 ed beings are preserved, and receive all that their 
 Gre requires; if afterwards we look beyond this, and 
 © our thoughts higher ; if we consider the connexion 
 een our earth and the celestial bodies; the constant 
 arity of all their motions, the conformity, the won- 
 harmony between all the globes within our sight ; 
 hall be more and more struck with admiration of 
 agnificence, order, and beauty of nature, and more 
 
 Aa : . 
 
278 NOVEMBER XXI.- 
 
 clearly convinced of the infinite wisdom of the Create 
 But all that we yet know of the order and harmon 
 the corporeal world, is but a slight ray of that great lig 
 of eternity, by which the Divine Wisdom, now in map 
 —_ impenetrable to us, will be made manifest hy 
 atter. 
 
 ~ NOVEMBER XXI. 
 Winter in the Northern Countries. 
 
 Tue time is now rapidly approaching which excites 
 complaints of so many discontented people. The se 
 season of winter appears to them inconsistent with ¢ 
 plan of the Ruler of the universe, which in all other 
 spects is so wise and beneficent. The rich complain 
 nature has become dull and melancholy; and the poot 
 whose poverty and wants increase at this season, mut 
 mur and lament. Yet let them magnify as they ple: 
 the inconveniences and distresses of winter, they will, 
 last be compelled to acknowledge the goodness of G 
 towards them, even in this respect, if they compare th 
 lot with that of other nations. 
 In many of the northern countries there is nei 
 spring nor autumn, and the heat is as intolerable - 
 summer as the cold is in winter. The severity of th 
 latter is such that even spirits of wine freeze in the the 
 mometer. . When the door of a warm room is openet 
 the external air which enters turns all the vapours int 
 snow; and they appear like thick white clouds. If per 
 sons go out of the house, they are almost suffocated 
 and the air seenis to pierce their lungs. Every thir 
 appears dead, as nobody dares venture abroad. & 
 times the cold suddenly becomes so intense that 
 a person escape with celerity, he is in danger of los 
 an arm, a leg, or even his life. The fall of snow is 
 more dangerous; the wind driving it with such violen 
 that roads are blocked up, trees and bushes are ce 
 ed, and every step plunges the traveller into some 
 precipice. In summer, for three months succes 
 there is constant day, and in winter, for the same spacg 
 there is a continued night. i 
 What would those persons say who complain of th 
 cold in this country, were they obliged to live in sue] 
 a climate as we have just described? It is certain w 
 ae 
 i 
 
 & 
 y 
 
s 
 
 ix Winter in the Northern Countries. 279 
 
 ; 2 
 9 not know our own advantages, or a very little reflec- 
 ion would suffice to render us contented with our lot. 
 days of winter, however severe we may think them, 
 nevertheless supportable ; and if some people suffer 
 much from them, it is generally because they have re- 
 themselves to a state of effeminacy by improper 
 
 at why has the Creator ordained that thousands of 
 sople should live in countries where nature fills them 
 terror for a great part of the year? Why has he 
 made all his people as happy as we are? Senseless 
 guiries! We are mistaken if we suppose that the in- 
 ibitants of the pole are unhappy from the severity and 
 i of their winter. Poor, yet exempt through sim- 
 licity from all desires difficult to be gratified, those peo- 
 e@ live content in the midst of the icy rocks that sur- 
 pund them, without knowing the blessings which the 
 guthern nations consider as an essential part of their 
 ippiness. If the barrenness of their soil prevent them 
 n having such variety of productions of the earth as 
 have, the sea is so much the more bountiful in her 
 _ Their mode of living inures them to cold, and 
 ables them to defy storms. As to particular resour- 
 . Nature provides them with abundance. Their de- 
 rts are full of wild beasts, whose fur protects them 
 jm cold. The rein-deer supplies them with food, 
 fink, beds, clothes, and tents.— These are most of their 
 its, and give them little trouble to obtain. When 
 sun does not rise with them, and they are surround- 
 with darkness, nature herself lights a torch for them. 
 he aurora borealis brightens their night. Perhaps those 
 people consider their country as the greatest and happi- 
 upon earth, and may regard us with as much pity as 
 2can possibly feel for them. 
 ‘Thus we find that every climate has advantages and 
 conveniences, generally so well balanced that it is dif- 
 eult to say which merits a preference. Considering 
 lings in this point of view, no courtry upon the earth 
 m be said to be more advantageous than another, whe- 
 ler the sun dart his rays upon it perpendicularly or o- 
 ely, or whether it is perpetually covered with snow. 
 One place the conveniences of life are more abun- 
 In another the variety of blessings is not so great; . 
 those who have not such comforts, escape many 
 Aa2 
 
280 NOVEMBER XXII. 
 
 temptations, corroding cares, and bitter remorse; ing 
 word, they are ignorant of many obstacles to happi 
 
 which compensates them for the pleasures of which ti 
 are deprived. We know with certainty, that Provide 
 has dispensed to every part of the world, whatever is 
 necessary for the support and happiness of its inhe 
 ants. All circumstances are adapted to the nature o} 
 the climate ; and God provides by the wisest mean: 
 the wants of all his creatures. 
 
 NOVEMBER XXII. 
 
 Transformations in Nature. 
 
 Tue transformations that take place in nature are ¥ 
 numerous; or rather, it may be said that every thing 
 the natural world is metamorphosed. The form of 
 jects continually varies. Certain bodies pass successive 
 ly through the three kingdoms of nature; and there are 
 compositions which gradually beconie minerals, plants 
 insects, reptiles, fish, birds, beasts, and men. B ( 
 year millions of bodies mix together and are reduced 
 dust. Where are the flowers which adorned our 
 dens, fields, and meadows during the spring and 
 mer? One species appears, then fades, and makes room 
 for another. The fiowers of March, with the modést 
 violet, aftér having proclaimed the coming of spring, dis- 
 appear, and give place to the tulip and the rose. TH 
 these others have succeeded, till all the flowers, in their 
 turn, have fulfilled their design. It is the same in re 
 spect to mankind. One generation rises, and anothe 
 disappears. Every year milliohs of human bodies re- 
 turn to the dust whence they came, but out of these re 
 duced bodies new ones are formed. The salts and oil. 
 of which they were composed, dissolve in the earth; the 
 more subtle parts are attracted by the heat of the sup 
 and rise into the atmosphere, where they mix with other 
 substances, are scattered here and there bythe wind, 
 and fall again in rain and dew; whilst the grosser = 
 ticles mix with the earth. The grass which is nourish 
 ed by them shoots up into long stalks; and it is tht 
 that the flesh of man, transformed into grass, se 
 feed the flocks, whose salutary milk is afterwards con 
 verted to our own subsistence. ’ 
 These continual transformations in nature are certain 
 
Transformations tn Nature. 281 ” 
 
 proofs that the Creator ordained that nothing should 
 rish or be useless. The dust on flowers which is em- 
 ployed in the fecundation of plants, is but a very small 
 art of what each flower contains; but this superfluity 
 is not lost: Divine Wisdom created bees, who make 
 use of it for their honey. The earth bestows daily gifts 
 ‘upon us, and would at last be exhausted, if what it yields 
 were not to be returned again. All organised bodies 
 | dissolve, and turn at last to earth. During this dissolu- 
 tion, their volatile parts rise into the atmosphere, and 
 are dispersed about. Thus, the remains of animals are 
 scattered in the air, the earth, and water; and perhaps 
 the parts which fly into the atmosphere are much the 
 [least numerous. All these particles, dispersed here and 
 
 |there, unite soon again in new organized bodies, which, _ 
 in their turn, undergo the same change. These con- 
 stant transformations, this circulation, which began with 
 the world, will only end with it. But the most remark- 
 able, or at least the most interesting to us, is that which 
 relates to.ourselves. We know that our bodies were 
 not originally, nor will they hereafter be, composed of 
 the same number of particles as at present. Our bodies, 
 when in our mother’s womb, were extremely small; at 
 our birth they were larger; and since that time they 
 have increased to fifteen or twenty times the size; con- 
 sequently blood, flesh, and other fereign substances, 
 drawn from the animal or vegetable creation, which did 
 not originally belong to our bodies, have since been u- 
 nited with, and are become parts of ourselves. The 
 heed we have.of daily food, shows a continual waste of 
 the parts, and that this loss must be repaired by ali- 
 ments. Many particles evaporate insensibly ; for it ap- 
 pears, from certain experiments made by an eminent 
 physician upon himself, that out of eight pounds of food, 
 which a man in heaith may take every day, there is but 
 afiftieth part of it which turns to his own substance: all 
 the rest goes off by perspiration, orother excretions. 
 From this, it may be inferred that ten years hence, there 
 will not remain many of the particles of which we are 
 
 now composed. And finally, when our bodiesshall have - 
 gone through several changes, they will be transformed 
 into dust till the day of resurrection, when that last and 
 happy revolution will fix them immutably and for ever. 
 
 Let us rejoice in the anticipation of this future state,., 
 
 Aad 
 
282 NOVEMBER XXIIE. 
 
 where we shall be free from all thie changes of this life 
 Let us hehold, with serenity, the daily revolutions ¢ 
 which all earthly things are subject, and which are ne 
 cessary in our present state. lt is by this means tha 
 we shiall draw nearer to perfection. 
 
 NOVEMBER XXIIL. 
 
 WuoeEVER loves to contemplate the works of God, wilf 
 trace him not oniy in those immense globes which com- 
 pose the system of the universe, but also in the little 
 worlds of insects, plants, and metals. He will acknow. 
 ledge and adore Divine Wisdom as much in the spider’s 
 web, as in the power of gravitation which attracts the 
 earth towards the sun. ‘These researches are now th 
 easier, as the use of microscopes discovers to us new 
 scenes, and new worlds, in which we behold, in minia-- 
 ture, all that can excite our admiration. Those who 
 have not opportunities to make use of these instrumepts, 
 may read at least with pleasure some remarks on micros 
 scopic objects. a 
 Let us, in the first place, observe the inanimate worldy 
 Behold those mosses, and the grass which God has pro- 
 duced in such abundance! Of how many fine threads 
 and little particles are those plants composed! What. 
 variety in their forms and shapes! Who can enumerat 
 all their genera and species? Think on the innumer= 
 able multitude of small particles of which any particue 
 Jar body is composed, and which may be separated fro 
 it. If an hexagonal body of an inch square contain a 
 hundred millions of visible parts, who can ealeulate t 
 parts of which a mountain must be compesed? 
 millions of particles of water may be suspended from 
 the point of a needle, how many must there be in; 
 fountain, a well, a river, or asea! If from a lighte 
 candle there issue in a minute more particles of lig 
 than there are grains of sand on the whele earth, h 
 many fiery particles must pass from a great fire in 
 space of an hour! If a grain of sand contain several” 
 millions of particles of air, how many must there be in 
 the human body!” If we can divide a single grain 
 ‘copper into millions-of parts, without arriving at the first 
 elements of matter; if odoriferous bodies can exhale 
 
 ° 
 ‘> 
 =. 
 “ 
 / 
 Pr 
 
 = ¥ 
 X ne 
 
4 Greatness of God in the smaliest Things. 283 
 
 fragrant particles enough to perfume the air at a great 
 distance, without the body itself losing any thing of its 
 weight, it would require an eternity for the human mind 
 
 - to calculate the predigious number of these particles. 
 If we pass next to the animal creation, the scene will 
 in a manner extend to infinity. During summer the air 
 " swarms with living creatures. Each drop of water is a 
 little world teeming with inhabitants.. Each leaf of a 
 _ tree is a colony of insects, and perhaps every grain of 
 ‘sand contains a multitude of animated beings. Each 
 ame grain, and flower, nourishes millions of creatures. _ 
 very person must have seen the innumerable swarms 
 _ of flies, gnats, and other insects, which collect together 
 _inavery smal] space; what prodigious shoals must there 
 be in proportion over the whole earth, and. in the im- 
 - mense expanse of the atmosphere!» How many millions 
 of smaller insects and worms are there crawling on the 
 ground, or underneath it, the number of which is known 
 - only to. God! Does not the power of the Creator strike 
 us with astonishment, when we refiect on the multi- 
 _ tude of parts of which these little creatures are com- 
 _ posed, whose existence is scarcely known? If we could 
 | hot at any time prove it by experiment, should we ima- 
 | gine that there were animals a million of times less than 
 | a grain of sand, with organs of nutrition, motion, &c. 
 There are shell-fish so minute, that even through a mi- 
 -eroscope they scarcely appear as large as a grain of 
 Bbarley. and yet they are living animals, with secure ha- 
  Ditations, the different folds and cavities of which form 
 | so many different apartments. How extremely smail is 
 | amite! and yet this almost imperceptible atom, when 
 _ seen through a microscope, is a hairy animal, perfect in 
 all its limbs, of a regular form, full of life and sensibili- 
 ty, and provided with all the necessary organs. Al- 
 _ though this animal is scarcely visibie to us, it has many 
 ' parts still smaller. And it is particularly admirabie that 
 the glasses which discover so many detects in the best 
 ~ finished works of man, show us nothing in these micro- 
 scopic objects but regularity and perfection. How in-_ 
 _ eonceivably slender are the threads of the spider! It 
 sas been calculated that 36,000 of them would only make 
 _ the thickness of common sewing silk. Each of the six 
 papilla, whence the spider draws the viscous liquor with 
 which it makes the web, is composed of a thousand in- . 
 
 5 
 < 
 
 | 
 
 4 S Se 
 
ier . a 
 / “ 
 
 284 NOVEMBER, XXIV. ¥ 
 
 sensible pores through which so many threads pass, so” 
 that each of the spider’s visible threads is — of 
 six thousand smaller ones! ‘This must naturally strike 
 the mind with astonishment. But, suppose we had mi- 
 croscopes which could magnify some millions of times 
 more than those do through which the mite appears as 
 large as a grain of barley, what wonders might we not 
 then discover! Yet even then we should not be able to” 
 see to the end. It would be presumptuous and extra-— 
 vagant to suppose it. Each creature has a kind of in- 
 finity, and the more we contemplate the works of God, 
 the more will the miracles of his power multiply in our 
 sight. Our imagination is lost in the two extremes of - 
 nature, the great and the small; and we know not in 
 which to admire the Divine Power most, whether in 
 those immense globes which roll over our heads, or in~ 
 those microscopic objects which are almost impercepti- 
 ble to the sight. Let the contemplation of God’s works — 
 be, therefore, our most pleasing occupation. The trou- 
 ble we may take in studying them will be well reward- 
 ed by the pure and innocent pleasures they afford. It_ 
 will awaken in us an ardent desire to arrive at those hap- 
 py regions, where we shall not want microscopes or te=— 
 lescopes to discover the wonders of God’s works, which 
 will be then distinctly visible, so as to unfold the design, — 
 construction, and connexien of each object; where end- 
 less hymns will be chanted to the praise’of the Creator 
 of the universe ; and where all distinction of great and 
 small will be at an end, as all-will be great to us, and, 
 all will inspire our breasts with joy and admiration. — 
 
 NOVEMBER XXIV. 
 Gradual Increase of the Cold. 
 
 We now feel that it grows gradually colder every day. 
 In the last month we lost part of the warmth of autumn; 
 but the cold was then very moderate, as the earth was, 
 still warmed by the rays of the sun. The present month 
 . 1s already much colder; and in proportion as the days 
 shorten, the earth wiil continue to lese its heat. This — 
 we experience daily; but.do we reflect as we ought up- - 
 on the wisdom and goodness of the Creator, which are - 
 manifest in this arrangement ? . 
 
 In the first place, this gradual increase of cold is in-. 
 
Gradual Increase of the Cold. 285 
 
 dispensably necessary to prevent the disorders, and per- 
 haps the total destruction, of the human body. If the 
 cold we experience in the depth of winter were to come 
 suddenly at the beginning of autumn, we should be in- 
 stantly benumbed, and the change would most probably 
 prove fatal. How easily do we catch cold in the cool 
 summer-evenings ; and how much worse would it be if 
 we were to pass suddenly from the burning heats of 
 summer to the chilling cold of winter! With what 
 goodness, therefore, has the Creator guarded our health 
 and our lives, in granting us such a temperature of air 
 during the months immediately succeeding summer, as 
 to prepare us by degrees to bear the increase of cold 
 without injury. 
 What would become of those animals whose constitu- 
 tions cannot bear severe cold, if winter were to come 
 upon them suddenly? The greater part of birds and 
 insects would be destroyed, together with their eggs 
 and young, in a single night; but as the cold is aug- 
 “mented gradually, they have time to take the necessary 
 “measures for their preservation. The autamnal months 
 warn them to quit their abodes, and repair to warmer 
 
 climates, or to scek out places where they may pass 
 the approaching winter in peace and safety. 
 
 It would be equally fatal to. our fields and gardens, 
 were the earth to be suddenly deprived of the sammer’s 
 heat. All plants, particularly exotics, would inevitably 
 perish ; and the spring would produce no flowers, nor 
 the summer afford us fruit. We should not, therefore, 
 
 consider it of little consequence that, from the end of 
 summer to the beginning of winter, the heat should 
 gradually give place to cold. . These insensible changes 
 were necessary for our preservation, and that of the 
 produce of the earth. Presumptuous man! though so 
 often daring to murmur at the laws of nature, would 
 ‘soon find, to his cost, were he able to derange one 
 ‘single wheel in the great machine of the world, that he 
 would do much mischief, but could make nothing bet- 
 ter. Nothing in nature operates suddenly. All natu- 
 tal events succeed each other by degrees, in the most 
 regular manner, and precisely at the appointed time.— 
 Order is the great law which God proposed in the go- 
 vernment of the world; and thence it is, that all his 
 works are so beautiful, so invariable, and so perfect. ” 
 
286 NOVEMBER XX¥. 
 
 Let it henceforth be our constant employment to— 
 study this beauty, this perfection, in the works of God, 
 and at every season of the year to trace the Divine 
 wisdom and goodness. We shall then cease those sense= 
 less murmurs with which we so frequently offend the 
 Creator. We shall find order, wisdom, and goodness 
 in the very things we fancy imperfect; and we shall 
 confess, from the strongest conviction, ‘ that all the 
 paths of the Lord are mercy and truth, unto such as 
 keep his covenant and his testimonies.” 
 
 NOVEMBER XXV. 
 Reflections on Snow. 
 
 Durine winter, the dullest season of the year, the 
 ground is often covered with snow. Every body sees” 
 it fall, but very few take the trouble to examine its na- 
 ture, or inquire into its use. Such is the fate of most 
 objects which we have daily before us, though we de- 
 rive many advantages from them. And we too seldom 
 appreciate those things which are, in reality, most de= 
 serving of our attention. Let us be wiser in future, 
 and devote a few moments to the consideration of snow. 
 
 It is formed of very light vapours, which congeal in 
 the atmosphere, and fall again in flakes more or less_ 
 thick. In our climates these flakes are pretty large, 
 but travellers assert, that in Lapland they are sometimes 
 s0 small as to resemble a fine dry powder. This cer- 
 tainly proceeds from the great cold of that country ; 
 and it may be observed, that the flakes are larger with 
 us in proportion as the cold is more moderate, and 
 smaller when it freezes hard. The little flakes of snow 
 are generally like hexagonal stars; but there are some 
 of cight angles, others of ten, and some of an irregular 
 shape. The best way of examining them is to receive 
 the snow on white paper. But there has not hitherto” 
 been any satisfactory cause assigned for their variety of 
 forms. The whiteness of snow may be more easily ex- 
 plained. It is extremely thin and light, and conse- 
 quently has a great many parts, which are full of air. _ 
 It is also composed of parts more or less close and com= 
 pact ; and such a substance does not admit nor absorb 
 the rays of the sun, on the contrary, it reflects them 
 very strongly, which makes it appear white to us. 
 
 , 
 
Sleep of Animals during Winter. 287 
 
 Snow recently fallen is twenty-four times lighter than 
 water : for if twenty-four measures*of snow _be melted, 
 they will produce but one of water. Snow €vaporates 
 ‘considerably, which the most intense cold cannot pre- 
 vent. It has been doubted whether snow ever falls at 
 sea ; but those who have gone voyages in the winter on 
 the northern seas, assure us they have had a great deal 
 of snow there. It is known that high mountains are 
 never entirely free from snow ; for if a part of it melt 
 away, it is speedily replaced by new flakes. The air 
 being much warmer in the plains than on high moun- 
 tains, it may rain on the former while it snows heavily 
 on the latter. 
 
 Snow has a variety of uses. As the cold of winter — 
 is much more hurtful to vegetables than to animals, the © 
 plants would perish if they were not preserved by some 
 covering. God ordained therefore, that the rain, which 
 in summer cools and revives the plants; should in win- 
 ter fall in the form of a soft wool, to cover the vegeta- 
 bles, and to guard them from the inclemency of frost 
 and winds. The snow has a degree of warmth in it; 
 but not too much, so as to choak the grain. When it 
 melts, it becomes a fruitful moisture to the earth, and 
 at the same time washes away every thing hurtful from 
 the winter seeds and plants. What remains of the 
 snow-water helps to fill up the springs and rivers which 
 had diminished during the winter. 
 
 These reflections may convince us, that winter has 
 its advantages, and that it is not so melancholy a season 
 as many imagine. Let us, therefore, look up with joy 
 and gratitude towards that Beneficent God who causes 
 blessings to descend, even from the clouds of snow, up- 
 on the earth. How unpardonable to murmur, when it 
 is our own fault if we do not every where discover traces 
 of the Divine Wisdom and Goodness! 
 
 NOVEMBER XXVI. 
 Sleep of Animals during Winter. 
 Nature, deprived of a variety of creatures which, in 
 summer, rendered her lively and interesting, now ap- 
 oa gloomy and dead. Most of the animals which 
 
 ave disappeared are buried in a profound sleep for the 
 winter. This is the case not only with snails, but ants, 
 
288 NOVEMBER XXVI. 
 
 flies, spiders, caterpillars, frogs, lizards, and serpents. 
 It is a mistake to suppose that the ants lay up provi 
 sions for the winter. The least cold benumbs them, 
 and they remain in a state of torpidity till the return of 
 spring. Of what use then would their stores be, since 
 nature has prevented their requiring food in winter? 
 What they collect in summer with so much care, is not 
 for their subsistence: they make use of it in the con- 
 struction of their habitations. : 
 
 There are also many birds, which, when food begir 
 to fail, hide themselves under ground, or in caves, where 
 they sleep during the winter. It is at least asserted 
 that, before winter, the strand swallows hide under 
 ground, the wall swallows in the hollows of trees, or 
 old buildings, and the common swallows seek the bot- 
 tom of ponds, and tasten themselves in pairs to some 
 reeds, where they remain motionless till they are re- 
 vived by the return of fine weather. 
 
 There are also some beasts which bury themselves 
 the ground at the énd of summer. The most remark- 
 able of these is the marmot, or mountain-rat, which ge- 
 nerally makes its abode in the Alps. Though it delights” 
 in the highest mountains, in the region of ice and snow, 
 it is sooner bendmbed with cold than any other animal 
 for which reason, it retires about the end of September 
 or the beginning of October, into its-subterraneous lodg- 
 ing, to remain there till the month of April. These a= 
 nimals display much art and contrivance in the plan o 
 their winter residence. It is a-sort of gallery, the two 
 branches of which have each their particular opening, 
 and both terminate in a recess, where the marmots live. 
 One of these wings slopes down underneath their dwell- 
 ing piace; and it is in this lower part of their house that 
 they deposit their excrements, which the moisture car- 
 ries away. The other wing is the highest, and is their 
 place of entrance. . Their dwelling place is lined with 
 moss and hay. They make no provision for winter, as_ 
 it would be useless to them. Before they enter their 
 winter quarters, each of them prepares a bed of moss 
 and hay; and then, having well closed the entrance in- 
 to their houses, they compose themselves to sleep. As 
 long as this state of insensibility lasts, they live without 
 eating. At the commencement of: winter they are so - 
 fat, that some of them weigh twenty pounds; but by 
 
Use of Storms. 289 
 
 serees they fall away, and are very lean in the spring. 
 hen these animals are discovered in their retreats,they -~ 
 re found rolled up, and sunk into the hay. Their nose 
 aid on their belly, that they may not inhale a damp 
 During their torpid state, they may be carried a- 
 ty without being wakened, and they may even be kill- 
 without appearing to feel the blow. There is another 
 rt of rats, whose sleep is as long, and as sound, as 
 hese, and therefore called the sleepers. 
 "Bears eat prodigiously at the beginning of winter, as 
 f they intended to devour as much at once as would 
 fice for their whole lives. As they are naturally fat, 
 excessively so at the end of autumn, this abundance 
 at enables them to bear their abstinence during the 
 fmter. Badgers prepare for their retreat into their bur- 
 fs, in the same manner. 
 fhe instinct of these, and of many other animals, 
 iches them thus to dispense with food for a consider- 
 time. From their first winter, even before they can 
 learnt any thing from experience, they foresee and 
 repare for their long sleep. In their peaceable retreats, 
 hey neither feel want, hunger, nor cold; and they know 
 eason but summer. It is remarkable, that all ani- 
 Is do not sleep thus in winter. It is ofly those who, 
 pith the severe’cold, can also support an abstinence of 
 ral months. If winter were to come upon them 
 awares, and they continued to live, though enfeebled 
 h hunger and benumbed with cold, the only thing 
 could wonder at would be the strength of their con- 
 fitution. But as they know how to prepare in time for 
 ir sleep, with much care and precaution, it myst be | 
 uted to a wonderful instinct bestowed upon them by 
 ie Creator. The wisdom and goodness of God have 
 applied all the wants of his creatures, and this by a 
 usand means which no human imagination could 
 ik of. 
 
 NOVEMBER XXVII. 
 Use of Storms. 
 
 gRHAPs there are many who, in this stormy season, 
 on winds and tempests amongst the evils of nature 
 Otconsidering the advantages that result from them, 
 mi Bb 
 
290 NOVEMBER XXVII. x 
 
 nor being aware that without them we should be cor 
 paratively miserable. Storms are the proper mean 
 purifying the atmosphere. ‘To be convineed of this, 
 need only attend to the general temperature of the 
 son. What thick and unwholesome fogs! what rair 
 dark, and cloudy days are we subject to! Storms 
 chiefly designed to disperse these hurtful vapours, 
 remove them from us; and in this sense they are e: 
 tremely beneficial. The universe is governed by th 
 same laws as man, who may be called a little world. 
 Our health depends, in a great measure, on the ag 
 tion and mixing of various humours, which would ot 
 wise corrupt. It is the same with the world. That the 
 air may not become noxious, it is necessary it shoul 
 be in perpetual motion, and this is effected by the wind: 
 I do not mean by gentle mild:winds, but by storms and 
 tempests, which collect the vapours from different cou 
 tries; and, by forming them into one mass, mix together 
 the good and bad, and thus correct: the one by the 
 ther. Even storms at sea are useful. If the ocean we 
 not often violently agitated, the very calmness of salt 
 water would occasion a degree of putrefaction, whie 
 would not only destroy the innumerable shoals of 
 which live in it, but might also be very hurtful to m 
 ners. Motion is the soul of universal nature. It pre 
 serves all things in order, and saves them from destru 
 tion. Why should the sea be excepted from the gene 
 ral rule; the sea which is the common receptacle for al 
 the dregs of the earth, and wherein so many animal 
 vegetable substances putrefy? If it were not in perp 
 tual motion, the water would stagnate, and infect u 
 with an insupportable stench. Motion is as necessam 
 to the sea, as circulation is to the blood of animals; ant 
 the other causes which give it a gentle, uniform, 
 almost insensible motion, are not sufficient to purify 
 whole mass. Nothing but storms could answer this pur 
 pose; and we see what advantages result from them t 
 mankind, and to all animated creatures. : ‘ 
 These are some of the uses of storms, and the reason 
 which ought to prevent us from considering them as de 
 structive plagues, and instruments of Divine vengeance 
 It is true, that storms have often sunk ships richly laden 
 destroyed the hopes of the farmer and gardener, | Li 
 waste whole provinces, and spread terror, desolation 
 
 a 
 
- Fortuitous Events. 291 | 
 
 and horror all around ; but what is there in nature which 
 [has not its inconveniences? Shall we reckon the sun 
 amongst the scourges of this world, because its situa- 
 ition makes the earth barren for some months, and be- 
 eause at other times its heat scorches and dries up our 
 fields? Those phenomena of nature should only ap- 
 pear formidable to us, where the advantages are little 
 or nothing in comparison of their attendant evils. But 
 ean this be said of storms, if we consider the uses which 
 
 esult from them? Let us therefore acknowledge that 
 God has planned all with wisdom, and that we ought to 
 ye content with the present state of things. Happy 
 jose who are convinced that every thing in the unt- 
 erse tends to the good of the creatures in it; that what-. - 
 ever evils there may be in the world, they are compen- 
 sated by numberless advantages; and that the very 
 means which Providence uses to chastise us, are in 
 themselves indispensable blessings, the general effect of 
 which makes ample amends for the particular evils which. 
 may in some cases result from them! 
 
 NOVEMBER XXVIII. 
 
 Fe ortuilous Events. 
 
 PROPERLY speaking, nothing can happen by chance, 
 for every thing has its real and determinate cause. But 
 what we call chance is‘no more than the unexpected 
 soncurrence of several-causes which produce an unfore- 
 en effect. Experience shows that this often happens 
 n life. Unforeseen accidents may entirely change the 
 ytunes of men, and overthrow all ‘their designs. It 
 ems as if naturally the race should be to the swift, 
 ‘the battle to the strong, and success to the wise ; ‘yet it 
 es not always happen so: for an unexpected event, a 
 avourable circumstance, or an accident impossible to 
 ‘foresee, often does more than all haman power, know- 
 ledge, or prudence, could effect. How much to be pi- 
 tied, therefore, would mankind be, if a wise and benefi- 
 cent Being did not regulate events for them! How 
 could God govern mankind, if what we call chance did 
 ‘Not obey his voice? The fate of men, families, and e- 
 ‘ven whole kingdoms, often depends on circumstances 
 hich appear to us insignificant and trifling. If we take - 
 a Providence the rule over these small events, we 
 tl Bb 2 
 
 * 
 . 
 
292 NOVEMBER XXVIII. 
 
 must at the same time suppose the greatest revolutio 
 in the world equally independent of his government. 
 We know that accidents daily happen, on which ot 
 temporal happiness or misery in a great measure depend 
 It is evident that we cannot guard against this kind 
 accidents, because we cannot foresee them ; but it fol- 
 lows, that these unexpected events ought to be parti 
 cularly assigned to the will of Providence. By the wis. 
 dom or goodness of God we are left more or less to our 
 selves, according as we have more or less understan 
 ing and powers to conduct ourselves rationally. E 
 under circumstances wherein our prudence can be of 
 use, we may depend upon it, that God will more par 
 cularly watch over us. In all other cases, the e1 
 ours and industry of man ought to concur with the 
 and protection of Heaven. It is only on occasion of un- 
 foreseen accidents that Providence acts alone. A 
 all that we call chance, we discover visible traces of 
 wisdom, goodness, and justice of God, it is evident th 
 chance itself must be subject to Divine direction. I 
 even there that the government of Providence sh 
 with peculiar lustre. When the beauty, order, and p 
 of the world, fill us with admiration, we conclude wil 
 out hesitution, that a Being infinitely wise must presi 
 over it. With how much more reason ought we to dr 
 this inference, when we reflect on the great events pi 
 duced by accidents which no human wisdom could fore- 
 see! Have we not a thousand examples, that the haj 
 piness and lives of men, the fate of nations, the suece 
 -of war, and the revolutions in kingdoms, depend on: 
 cidents entirely unforeseen? An unexpected event 
 confound projects concerted with the utmost prude 
 and annihilate the most formidable power. It is in] 
 vidence alone that we can rest our faith, peace, 
 hope; with whatever evils we may be surrounded, wh 
 ever dangers may threaten us, God can deliver us 
 thousand means unknown to ourselves. The lively: 
 suasion of this comfortable truth ought, on the one hand, 
 to inspire us with the most profound respect for the Ru- 
 ler of the universe; and, on the other, induce us to put 
 our whole trust in God, and to look up to him on eve 
 occasion through life. This truth ought also to ew 
 our pride, and to inspire the high and the mighty of 
 world with the religious fear they should have of 
 Great Being, in whose hands there are a thousand meant 
 
The Greatness of God. 293 
 
 known to us, by which the whole structure of happi- 
 ess we have proudly raised may be destroyed. Final- 
 , this truth is admirably calculated to banish all doubt, 
 are, and ‘sorrow from our minds. The infinitely wise 
 Being has a thousand wonderful ways unknown to us. 
 Phey are the ways of mercy and goodness. He wishes 
 the happiness of his children, and nothing can prevent 
 . He commands, and all nature obeys his voice. . 
 
 NOVEMBER XXIX.. 
 The Greatness of God. - 
 
 NoTHING is more proper for man than to endeavour te 
 form to himself ideas of God in some degree worthy of 
 § greatness and majesty. It is true, that it is as im-— 
 jossible for us to comprehend him perfectly, as to con- 
 tain the seas within the hollow of our hand, or to com- 
 bass the heavens with aspan. The Almighty is at once 
 known to, and concealed from us. He is very near, and 
 t infinitely above us: near to us, as to his existence; 
 above and concealed from us, as to his nature, perfeec- 
 , and decrees. But it is our duty to endeaveur to 
 know him, so as to conceive the sentiments of venera- 
 ‘tion that are so justly due to him. To assist our weak- 
 hess in this respect, let us compare him with what men 
 steem and admire the most, and we shall see that God 
 is infinitely above all. : 
 We admire the power of kings, and are astonished 
 hen we hear that they have conquered vast empires, 
 ‘taken towns and fortresses, erected stately buildings, 
 and been the means of happiness or misery to whole na- 
 tions. But if we are struck with the power of a man, 
 vyho is but dust and ashes, and most of whose exploits 
 are due to other agents, how must we admire the power 
 ‘God, who laid the foundation of the earth, who made 
 e heavens, who holds the sun in his hand, and who 
 stains the immense fabric of the universe! We are 
 with reason.astonished at the heat of the sun, the im-- 
 uosity of the winds, the roaring of the sea, the roll- 
 ag of the thunder, and the swift flashes of lightning; 
 but it is God who gives heat to the sun, who thunders 
 ip the clouds, who rides upon the wings of the wind, . 
 who raises the storm, and calms the waves of the sea. 
 We justly respect — a have distinguished them-- 
 
296 DECEMBER 1. 
 
 are indebted for our existence? Our bodies, and 
 souls which animate them, are the gifts of his ha 
 may we magnify him as long as we have a being. 
 Objects of his paternal care throughout the day, each 
 morning witnesses that he has watched over us durin 
 the silent hours of darkness. Every passing momen 
 furnishes motives to bless Him who is the light and 
 strength of our life. ' 
 If we be a prey to adversity, and oppressed with sor= 
 rows, scarcely do we feel their weight when God ena- 
 bles us to support them. He comes to our assistance, 
 and all our difficulties are surmounted. } 
 O my soul! thou hast long experienced -this. 
 me never forget it, nor give way to the fear of bei 
 deserted by a God who cannot hate his children. Ma 
 I henceforth submit to his holy will, and biess him for 
 all his dispensations, persuaded that he will accomplish” 
 all his merciful designs ; for he is great in wisdom, and, 
 abundant in means. 
 
 DECEMBER. I. 
 Hymn of Praise. 
 
 Wuen I seriously reflect upon the unmerited mercies 
 which thou, my God, hast conferred upon me, my so 
 is astonished, and filled with admiration. Overwhelmed 
 with thy-goodness, and transported with holy joy, I fer-_ 
 vently inquire, how shall I express the emotions of a 
 grateful heart ? 3 % 
 
 While yet asleep, and unconscious of existence in my 
 mother’s womb, thy goodness fixed my lot. Thou hast 
 -regulated the condition of mortals yet unborn, and it~ 
 
 a 
 
 was my fate, thanks to thy favor, to be born ina Chriss 
 tian land. “= 
 Compassionating my weakness, thou didst incline 
 thine ear to my infant cries; and didst mercifully con- 
 descend to listen to my feeble accents before they were - 
 formed into praises, or into prayers. ; 
 - When in the thoughtlessness of youth, I wandered” 
 from the paths of virtue, thy mereiful goodness arrest- 
 ed my progress, revealed my error, and recalled me to” 
 a sense of duty. a 
 In danger and distress thou hast ever been my shield 
 and fortress; and thou hast often preserved me from the. 
 
“Bra of the Creation of the World, &c. 297 
 
 es of vice ; more to be dreaded than the worst tem- 
 calamities. 
 
 When death spread its sable wings over my couch, 
 ‘and a mortal paleness was diffused over my countenance, 
 hou didst rekindle the almost extinguished lamp of life; 
 and when the recollection of my sins distressed my soul, 
 thy grace afforded me the sweetest consolation. 
 
 _ Henceforth, in my fears, distresses, and tribulations, 
 Twill confide m thy mercy alone; and while I repose 
 on thy wonder-working arm, I shall be enabled to con- 
 emplate even death itself without terror or amazement. 
 _ When the heavens shall pass away with a mighty 
 noise, and the fabric of the universe shall be dissolved, 
 Tshall rise triumphantly above its ruins, and bless the - 
 ‘Omnipotent hand that has upheld me amid the wreck of 
 a destroyed world. O my God, eternity is too short to 
 ‘utter all thy praise! 
 
 DECEMBER II. ss 
 a of the Creation of the World, and of ihe Human Race. 
 
 F we fix the era of the creation of the world according 
 to the testimony of holy writ, it can scarcely have sub- 
 isted six thousand years. Those who suppose it much 
 pider, judge contrary to reason, and to the historical 
 monuments conveyed to us. The history of mankind 
 loes not go farther beck than that which has been 
 fansmitted to us by Moses; for all that has been said 
 regard to-the origin of ancient nations is without 
 bundation, nor-does their history extend beyond the 
 eluge. As to the chronological books of the Chinese, 
 ey are evidently full of falsehoods. The Pheenicians 
 lave no historian more ancient than Sanchoniatho, who 
 ed after Moses. The Egyptian history does not ex- 
 tend beyond Ham, theson of Noah; and the books of 
 the Jewish lawgiver are the most ancient, as well as the 
 Most authentic, of all the monuments of antiquity. 
 
 If the world were some thousands of years older, it 
 must have been much more peopled than it is. Popu- 
 lation has been constantly increasing since the deluge, 
 and yet there might be three times as many inhabitants 
 pm the earth as there are at present. It has been com- 
 puted, that at least five thousand millions of men might 
 ive upon our globe; and yet it is not imagined that 
 
 _ 
 
. 
 
 298 DECEMBER It. 
 
 there are in reality much moré than one thousand ; 
 eighty millions; of whom six hundred and fifty millic 
 are computed to be in Asia, three hundred millions 
 Africa and America, and a hundred and thirty millic 
 in Europe. 7 
 If we consider the arts invented by man, we shall fir 
 that few or none of them have been discovered above 
 two or three thousand years ago. Man owes his aptt. 
 tude for arts and sciences, not only'to his nature any 
 his reason, but to necessity, and a desire'to procure foi 
 himself conveniences and pleasures; also to vanity and 
 ambition, and to luxury, the child of plenty, which 
 creates new wants. History carries us back to the tim 
 when men had scarcely invented the most necessar 
 arts; when those arts which were discovered were ver 
 imperfectly understood; and when the first principle 
 of science were almost totally unknown. . 
 About four thousand years ago, men were’ in a great 
 state of ignorance with respect to most subjects: ane 
 if we calculate according to the progress made sine 
 that time, and afterwards go back to the remotest pe- 
 riod, we may, with tolerable precision, fix the epoel 
 when men knew nothing, or, in other words, that of the 
 creation of the human race. If their existence ha 
 been of an earlier date, it would have been jmpossib 
 that the most useful and indispensable arts should have 
 remained unknown to them for many ages. On the 
 contrary, all that the human mind is capable of disco 
 vering must have been known long ago. From this: 
 cumstance, therefore, we may conclude, that the era 
 the creation of man is that which Moses has assign 
 in his history. Would it not be absurd to suppose # 
 men could have remained for thousands of years bur’ 
 in the darkest ignorance, and plunged in a kind of Ie 
 thargy, from which they suddenly awoke to invent arts, 
 and to procure themselves the comforts and pleasures 
 of life. : 
 Another circumstance should here be mentioned.— 
 Almost all Europe was formerly covered with immense 
 forests, and very few cities or villages were seen. Gé 
 many, for example, was but one continued forest ; and 
 its population, of course, must have been very inconsi- 
 derable. Men, at first, could only cultivate the open 
 spaces which were found in certain parts of the forests: 
 
3 The Use of Wood. 299 
 
 they had no private property in land, and annually 
 changed their place of abode. In all Germany there 
 was not a single fruit-tree: acorns alone were produced. 
 _ If we wish to draw a comparison between ancient and 
 modern Germany, we must set aside all the inhabitants 
 of towns and villages; consider the numerous colonies 
 sent into other countries ; and observe that most of the 
 forests being now cut down, and turned into arable 
 land, ancient Germany could scarcely have had the 
 tenth part as much cultivation as the present, and con- 
 Sequently could only have-had the tenth part of its pre- 
 sent inhabitants. How many millions less of people 
 were there then! And how abundantly must they 
 have multiplied since! Yet the forests which extend | 
 from Germany to the north-east of Asia, and those still 
 remaining in Africa and America, prove that our globe 
 is not nearly so well peopled as it might have been.— 
 The farther we go back into antiquity, the less shall 
 we find the earth peopled and cultivated. Therefore it 
 is impossible that our globe should have been eternal ; 
 for i; it had been so, it must have been as well peopled 
 as it riow is from time immemorial. 
 
 |. All these reflections lead to that Supreme Being who 
 ‘is the Creator of the heavens and the earth. From him 
 the world and its inhabitants derive their existence.— 
 ‘Before worlds or creatures were formed He was infi- 
 nitely glorious, and shall be eternally the same when 
 ‘new globes shall be produced. 
 
 For our consolation we may add, believers too shall 
 | live for ever. Blessed and transporting thought! When 
 the heavens shall pass away, the Christian shall remain 
 immoveably-fixed on the Rock of ages, and while eter- 
 | nity rells on, he shall inhabit the peacetul realms of ce- 
 | Jestial bliss! : 
 
 ¥ DECEMBER III. 
 . The Use of Wood. 
 
 However great and numerous are the advantages we 
 _ from every part of a tree, none of them can be 
 ‘compared with that which the wood affords us. Tim- 
 “ber grows in such abundance, that one might say, God 
 ‘daily creates new provision of it, that we may never be 
 destitute of so useful a substance. It answers every 
 
300 DECEMBER III. 
 
 purpose for which we design it. It is pliant enough € 
 take any form we please ; and hard enough to keep_that 
 which is once received; and as it is easily sawed, beni 
 and polished, it furnishes us with a variety of utensil; 
 conveniences, and ornaments. ' 
 These, however, are not the most important advan- 
 tages we derive from wood, as most of them only con. 
 tribute to the purposes of convenience or luxury. We 
 have wants still more indispensable, which we could 
 scarcely supply without wood of a certain thickness and 
 solidity. 1t is true, that nature furnishes a great quan 
 tity of heavy compact bodies: we have stones and mar- 
 ble, of which we make many uses ; but it is so difficult 
 to get them out of their quarries, to convey them to any 
 distance, and to work them, that they become very ex- 
 pensive; whereas we can, with much less cost and trou- 
 ble, procure the largest trees. By sinking into the 
 ground wooden piles of sixty or ninety feet long, a sure 
 foundation is made for walls, even in loose sand or mud, 
 which would otherwise fall in. These piles strongly 
 driven down, form a forest of immoveable, and some 
 times incorruptible, trees in the ground or water, able 
 to sustain the largest and heaviest building: other pieces” 
 support the brick-work, and all the weight of tiles and 
 lead of which the roofs of our houses are composed. 
 In many countries, wood is the chief article of fu 
 without which the inhabitants could neither preser 
 life, nor supply one half of their necessities. It is tr 
 that the sun is the soul of nature, but we cannot colle 
 his rays to dress our food, or to melt our metals. Fir 
 in some measure, supplies the place of the sun; and the 
 regulation of the degrees of heat depends on our own 
 choice. The long nights of winter, the cold fogs, ant 
 the north wind, would freeze our blood, if we were de- 
 prived of the comfortable warmth of fires. How neces- 
 sary therefore is fuel; and what admirable wisdom has 
 our Creator displayed in covering so great a part of 
 surface of our globe with woods and forests ! as 
 But do we always consider wood, with respect to its” 
 numerous uses, as a blessing from God? Are we sensi- 
 ble how much it contributes to our welfare? Or, 
 cause these blessings are so common, do we therefore 
 think them of less importance? It istrue, we can ac=— 
 quire wood more easily than gold or diamonds; but is 
 
Observations on certain Animals. 301 
 
 it therefore less a peculiar blessing of Providence? Is 
 it not precisely the plenty of wood, and the ease with 
 which we procure it, that ought to excite our gratitude, 
 and lead us to bless the Creator of this invaluable gift, 
 the measure of which is so well proportioned to our ne- 
 eessities? Such reflections would prove constant sour- 
 ces of thanksgiving, if we accustomed ourselves to this 
 pleasing, though serious, turn of mind. Particularly at 
 this season we are furnished with many occasions to bless 
 God for the mercies he grants to us, and which we ought 
 never to forget. 
 
 DECEMBER IY. 
 Observations on certain Animals. 
 
 We daily experience the different advantages we derive 
 from animals. The Creator has formed some to live in 
 a state of society with us, whilst others supply us with 
 food ; and all are designed, in one way or another, toe 
 minister to our necessities or our pleasures. 
 _ The dog is by no means a despicable creature. Ex- 
 Clusive of the beauty of his form, his vivacity, strength, 
 and swiftness, he has all the internal qualities which can 
 attract the notice of man. He possesses strong and ten-~ 
 der feelings, which education still improves, and which 
 render him worthy of being a companion to man. He 
 knows how to promote his master’s designs, to watch 
 and guard him, to flatter, caress, and please in a varie- 
 ty of ways. Without the assistance of this faithful do- 
 mestic, it would be difficult to subjugate other animals. 
 Ina word, it seems as if God had given the dog to man, 
 as a companion, an assistant, anda guard. This inte= 
 Testing animal merits still further attention, from his per- 
 forming many actions, which prove that he is not amere 
 machine, but that he possesses some principle of intelli- 
 gence. How expressive are the signs by which he ma- 
 nifests his joy at his master’s return! And how differ- 
 ‘ent are those that he discovers upon the approach of a 
 robber, or a wolf, or when he is pursuing a hare!) What 
 ¢autious ardour, what cunning and prudence are observ- 
 able in all his motions! 
 The advantages we derive from the sheep are still 
 greater, although it has not the gift of pleasing like the 
 : . All the parts of a sheep are useful; its milk, wool, 
 VOL. 11. Cc é 
 
 - 
 
302 DECEMBER IV. \ y , 
 
 4 
 
 flesh, and even its bones. This quadruped is re 
 able for chewing the cud. As it swallows its food h 
 ly, without sufficient chewing, it brings it up again i 
 to its mouth, to chew and swallow it a second tim 
 These animals do this because they have but one row 
 teeth; which defect is compensated by their having fi 
 stomachs. In the first, which is very large, and cal 
 the paunch, the food, almost whole and raw, is a lit 
 moistened. The second, which is called the cap, 
 much smaller. Here the food macerates better, an 
 the digestion begins to make some progress. Fron 
 thence it passes into the third stomach, called the trip 
 or leaf, where it remains till it is properly soaked 
 dissolved; for this intestine is composed of several fol 
 or leaves, which prevent any thing from passing that is 
 not fluid. Lastly, the digestion. is completed im th 
 fourth stomach, called the rennet bag, in which the ft 
 changes its colour, and becomes white like milk, though 
 in the third stomach it was green. i a 
 
 The hare possesses instinet for its own ae 
 and sagacity to escape its enemies. lt makes its own 
 form ; it chooses in winter a place exposed to the south, 
 and in summer to the north. In order to conceal itself, 
 it hides between ridges or hillocks nearly of its own e¢ 
 lour. When pursued by dogs, it darts rapidly forware 
 them turns and returns upon its steps, throws itself ii 
 by-paths; and after many leaps and doublings, it hi 
 itself in the trunk of a tree or ina bush. It has the 
 cunning to change place continually, according to ci 
 cumstances. 2g 
 
 The stag is still more wily and subtle than the hare, 
 and gives much more trouble to the huntsman. Its e- 
 legant light form, its slender shape, its ornamental horns, 
 its height, strength, and celerity, distinguish it from the 
 other inhabitants of the forests, which it seems formed 
 to embellish and enliven. 4) 
 
 When we reflect upon these and many other animals, 
 we are compelled to acknowledge the goodness with 
 which God has provided for our support, our conveni- 
 ence, and our pleasure. Our globe is the habitation of 
 innumerable creatures, many of which are subject to 
 man, and exist chiefly for his service. And if the soil 
 of the earth be so diversified, it is that such a number 
 of animated beings may find the food adapted to their 
 
 . 
 
— 
 
 Formation and different Shapes of Snow. 303 
 
 ferent natures. All kinds of soil, good as well as bad, 
 indy or. marshy, stony or moist, from the banks of the 
 
 ers to the tops of the mountains, are all peopled with 
 ying creatures, which, in one respect or another, are 
 dispensable to us. The remains of our tables feed the 
 owls, which are so useful to us. The delicate flesh of 
 igeons well repays the trouble of providing them with 
 fe and proper houses. Swans clear our ponds from a 
 umber of = which would otherwise corrupt there. 
 Ihole flocks of geese and ducks yield their feathers to’ 
 us for our beds, and expect nothing in return, bata 
 
 itle food, and a pool where they may bathe, play, dive, 
 nd seek for worms. In a word, there is not a spot, 
 
 wever barren, that does not contain and teed many - 
 sseful animals. Can we then ever be insensible of the 
 mberless blessings which God has bestowed upon us? 
 
 DECEMBER V. 
 The Formation and different Shapes of Snow. 
 
 inow is a species of hoar frost, differing only in this 
 articular, that the frost falis like dew upon the surface 
 certain cold bodies, which draw out its moisture, and 
 to which it adheres ; whereas the snow is formed before 
 falis, in the middle region of the air, by congealed 
 japours, which observe the same laws in falling, as fogs, 
 lew, and rain. ‘The air is often extremely cold; and 
 this cold ‘may be considerably increased by the density 
 of the atmosphere, and the accession of acid vapours. 
 it is therefore easy to comprehend how watery particles 
 may be frozen: but what possibly contributes more than 
 any thing else to freeze the air, are the clouds; for it is 
 generally very cloudy when it snows. The thicker the- 
 plouds are the more tliey intercept the sun’s rays, 
 and prevent their effect. In consequence of this, the 
 mtenseness of the cold causes the vapours to lose their 
 luidity, and converts them into snow. But upon the 
 ame principle, ought it not sometimes to snow in sum- 
 per? it may certainly happen, that even in the midst 
 ‘of summer, snow may be formed in the upper regions 
 6f the atmosphere; but the cold in that season is never 
 $0 intense as to prevent the frozen vapours from melt- - 
 g, when they descend to the lower region of air, con- 
 nently they do not then appear in the form of snow. - 
 Cc2 
 
304 DECEMBER VI. T 
 
 It is not the same in winter; as it is then very cold in 
 the lower region of the atmosphere near the earth, the 
 congealed vapours cannot receive heat enough in fallin 
 to melt them, and therefore they preserve their snow 
 form. wef 
 
 The shape of the flakes is very remarkable. : 
 generally resemble little stars, with six equal rays. — 
 is difficult to discover whence this regular form 
 ceeds. Perhaps it may be imputed to the saline p 
 cles which float in the air, and, by uniting with tl 
 snow, occasion it to crystalize. Thus the frozen va- 
 pours collecting round these saline particles, whi 
 serve as a kernel to them, become formed into he 
 gons. Also when the lower atmosphere is very wold, 
 these stars fall separately ; but when the air is warmer, 
 or more moist, they grow a little soft: and, if they h 
 pen to touch, they adhere together, and form flakes 6 
 different sizes, according to the number of stars whieh 
 happen to meet together. ‘This is the reason why snow 
 never falls in large flakes when the cold is intense. 
 
 An attentive observer cannot but admire the Divir 
 wisdom and power, when he considers that the most 
 exact proportion and the most perfect regularity 2 
 preserved, even in the formation of snow. How sur 
 prised should we be were we to see them for the fir 
 time, and to be told that this brilliant meteor was on 
 owing to some vapours in the atmosphere. How qt 
 ly does the snow fall, and how unexpectedly are ¥ 
 sometimes surrounded with it! What multitudes of 
 flakes fall from the cloudsover each other, and in a mo- 
 ment cover the earth! While this affords pleasure to 
 the sight, and abundant subject for reflection, it is well 
 calculated to justify what the pious Brooke has said: 
 *¢ Even frost and snow have their charms, and winter 
 has its sweets. None can want pure and innocent plea- 
 sures, but those who are so dull and insensible, that they 
 do not refiect on any thing, nor give any attention to 
 the works of God.” 
 
 DECEMBER VI.. 1 
 Winter Plants. 
 
 Tr is a mistaken opinion that winter is in general de- 
 structive to plants and trees. It is, on the contrary, 
 
 tr 
 
Winter Plants. - 305 
 
 ‘Very certain, that the variety of heat and cold contri- 
 ites much to the growth and propagation of vegeta- 
 les. In the warmést climates there are immense de- 
 rts, which would be still more barren if the burning 
 pats were not sumtimes succeeded by cold. Winter, 
 r froin being prejudicial to the fertility of the earth, 
 s favourable to it. Even the coldest countries {not- 
 ithstanding their snow and ice) have plants which suc- 
 seed very well. Many trees, as the fir, the pine, the 
 uniper, the cedar, the larch, and box, flourish as well 
 in winter as at any other season. House-leek, pepper- 
 prt, marjorm, thyme, sage, lavender, wormwood, and 
 her similar plants preserve their verdure in winter. . 
 lere are even some flowers which grow under the 
 pow. The single anemone, the early hellebore, the — 
 rimrose, the hyacinth, the narcissus, the snow-drop, 
 nd all mosses, grow green in the cold. Botanists tell 
 , that the plants under the frigid zone, if put Intoa 
 eenhouse, cannot bear a heat beyond thirty-eight de- 
 fees ; but they can support so great a degree of cold, 
 jto grow during the winter in Sweden, as well as in 
 st parts of France, Germany, and Russia, and in the 
 hern provinces of China. The vegetables of ex- 
 sive cold ‘climates cannot bear much heat, nor can 
 e which grow on the summits of very high moun- 
 ins. Rocks and mountains, whose tops are all the 
 covered with snow, are not without their peculiar 
 ats. On the rocks of Lapland, many of those vege- 
 fables grow which are found on the Alps and Pyrenees, 
 a mount Olympus, and in Spitzbergen, but no where 
 s. When these are transplanted into gardens, they 
 Fow to a tolerable height, but bear very little fruit: 
 d few of the plants which thrive in the nerthern coun- 
 tries, will come to perfection without snow. 
 Thus, we find that there is no soil in the immense 
 eh of nature entirely barren. From the finest dust 
 Othe hardest rock, from under the line to the north - 
 e, there is no land which does not produce and nou- 
 h plants peculiar to itself And no season is absolute- 
 destitute of flowers or fruit. 
 rciful and beneficent Creator! crant that, even in - 
 evere season, we may have a due sense of thy pa- - 
 ial goodness, and the blessings bestowed upon us! 
 @ we properly PTree 2 the government of thy-, 
 e.3.. 
 
306 DECEMBER VII. a 
 Providence, we should every where find occasion to ac- 
 knowledge thy goodness and wisdom. Nature is ne 
 idle, but at all seasons continues her useful la 
 Grant, O God, that it. may be the same with us; a 
 should we be spared to old age, enable us to bring 
 
 fruit acceptable to thyself and beneficial to our Bie 
 creatures! 
 
 DECEMBER VII. b | 
 An Exhortation to remember the Poor during the Se i 
 ty of Winter. vid 
 
 You who are sitting at your ease in convenient and 
 comfortable apartments, whilst the keen north wi 
 whistles round your habitation, reflect on the state of 
 those untortunate beings who are at this moment su 
 ing the utmost severity of cold and hunger.. “ Ha 
 are those who in this inclement season have a house 
 shelter them, clothes to cover them, bread and the fr 
 of the vine to refresh them, with a bed of down on whi 
 they may repose and yield to pleasing dreams. B 
 hard is the lot of the poor man to whom fortune refuses 
 even the necessaries of life! without clothes or shelter. 
 often stretched upon a bed of pain, and too modest 
 proclaim his wants.’’? We ought all to be deeply affeet- 
 ed with the misery of such people. How many poor 
 creatures in the streets are now shivering with cold, ai 
 perishing for want of food! How many old pe 
 with scarcely any thing to cover them, war them- 
 selves for hours together to the inclemency of the wea- 
 ther in order to solicit the charity of passengers! How 
 many sick persons are there witheut. food or medicine, 
 lying on straw, in miserable cabins or garrets, where the 
 wind, the rain, and the snow are their principal visitants! 
 Winter renders benevolence to the poor the more ne- 
 cessary, because it increases their wants. Is it not the 
 time in which nature itself is poor? And is it not ad- 
 ding double value to our benefactions to bestow th 
 seasonably? If we have been enriched by the fruits of 
 summer and autumn, is it not that.we should share them 
 with our fellow-creatures, when nature is in a state of 
 repose ? In proportion as the cold increases, we should 
 be more anxious to relieve the necessitous, and to pour 
 some part of our abundance into the bosom of the de- 
 
Nature is.a School for the Heart. 307 
 
 serving poor. What intention could Divine Providence 
 have in its unequal distribution of earthly riches, but 
 to enable the sons of affluence to relieve the necessities 
 of their fellow-creatures ? 
 
 _ Let us therefore have compassion on the poor, and 
 recollect that it is.an indispensable duty to alleviate their 
 sufferings. Providence has conferred an honour and a 
 privilege on the opulent in enabling them to clothe, to 
 feed, and to cherish objects of distress. Let those, 
 therefore, on whom fortune has heaped her favours, 
 give liberally from their ample stores; and let those 
 who have but little still give a part; for there are few 
 persons, however confined their income, that have not 
 the means of doing some good. Let us then enjoy the 
 sweetest satisfaction that a noble mind can feel ;—the 
 matchless pleasure of relieving the wants of others, of 
 softening and lessening their weight of adversity. How 
 easy is it to do this! We need only retract a few of 
 our expenses in dress and pleasures. How acceptable 
 an offering would it be to God, were our benevolence 
 to be attended by a conquest over our passions, in re- 
 trenching the indulgence of luxury.and yanity, in order 
 to bestow our charity on the poor! 
 
 DECEMBER VIII. 
 Nature is a School for the Heart. 
 
 Tue study of nature is in all respects profitable, and it 
 may with propriety ‘be termed a school for the heart, 
 since it clearly instructs us in the duties we owe to God, 
 to our neighbour, and to ourselves. Can any thing in- 
 spire us with more profound vencration for God than 
 the reflection that it is he who has not only formed our 
 
 _ globe out of nothing, but that his Almighty hand con- 
 
 ts 
 
 7 
 
 ‘fines the sun within its orb, and the sea within its 
 
 bounds? Can we humble ourselves too much before 
 
 that Being who created the innumerable worlds which 
 
 roll over our heads? What diminutive creatures are 
 wwe in comparison with those immense globes! and how 
 little must the earth in all its glory appear, when consi- 
 dered in this point of view! Must we not shudder at 
 
 - the very thought of offending this God, whoze bound- 
 
 less, power is every where manifested, and who with a 
 single frown can seal our destruction, or render us com. 
 pletely miserable! _ 
 
308 DECEMBER VIIT. Pj 
 
 But the contemplation of nature is also calculated to © 
 fill us with love and gratitude towards its divine Author. — 
 All nature loudly proclaims this comfortable truth, that 
 “God is love.’? It was love which mduced him oO 
 create the world, and to communicate to other beings 
 a portion of that felicity which he himself enjoys. For — 
 this purpose, he created the universe, and an innume-— 
 rable multitude of creatures, that all of them, from the — 
 _archangel to the worm, should feel, according to its na- 
 ture and capacity, the effects of infinite goodness. Each 
 created being affords incontestable proofs of this asser- 
 tion. But its veracity is most demonstrated by our- — 
 selves; the Creator having endowed us with reason, — 
 not only to enjoy the blessings we receive, but also to 
 feel and acknowledge that love which is the source of 
 all our comforts. He ordained that we should have 
 dominion over the animals, to make them subservient — 
 to our wants and conveniences. And for us he has — 
 caused the earth to yield her fruits in such abundance, ~ 
 Can we then be ingensible of so many daily blessings, 
 to which we owe the continuance of our existencé; OF — 
 is it possible to remain unaffected by the disinterested ~ 
 love of this Great Being, who can receive no return from — 
 his creatures, and whose felicity can admit of no in-— 
 crease? Must it not excite the most grateful love for — 
 our bountiful Creator ? he a 
 
 The contemplation of the universe, and the perfec- 
 tions of God so clearly manifested in it, ought to in- 
 crease our confidence in this divine Friend and Bene=- 
 factor. And the most perfect tranquillity should fill 
 our souls when we recollect that our destiny js in the — 
 hands of a Being, whose wisdom, power, and goodness 
 are visibly inscribed on every part of the creation. In ~ 
 the hour of perplexity, embarrassment, and danger, let 
 us therefore address the prayer of faith to Him who has ~ 
 stretched out the heavens and formed all his creatures — 
 in so admirable a manner; and let us rest assured that 
 his omnipotent arm will be stretched out on our behalf. 
 
 I cannot conceive it possible for mean and selfish 
 seniiments to fill the heart of a man, who, in the con- 
 templation of nature, must every where discover traces — 
 of infinité beneficence in the Supreme Being, who does © 
 not less propose the happiness of each individual, than 
 the universal good of the world. If we reflect on the 
 
God's Goodness in Things apparently hurtful. 309 
 
 ways of Providence, it is impossible not to be sensibly 
 touched with the goodness and mercy of God towards 
 every living creature; and that heart must be depraved 
 to an awful degree, which is not inspired to imitate, as 
 much as possible, his universal benevolence; for ** God 
 maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and 
 _sendeth his rain on the just and on the unjust.” Let 
 us then exclude none from our charity, nor act with 
 ‘partiality in the distribution of it. Our God regards 
 the little as well as the great, the indigent as well as 
 the affluent, and invariably does good to all. If, there- 
 fore, we wish to imitate our heavenly Father, we must 
 endeavour to kindle a flame of pure and extensive phi- 
 Janthropy within our hearts. 
 Finally, when we contemplate the admirable order 
 which reigns throughout all nature, ought it not to pro- 
 duce the best dispositions in our minds? If we are 
 convinced that nothing can be pleasing to God, which 
 is contrary to order and regularity, should we not con- 
 form to it? Low unpardonable to oppose, by our ir- 
 regularities, the merciful designs of Providence in our 
 favour! Ouglit we not to second them by our endea- 
 vours to correct ourselves? It is by these means that 
 nature becomes an excellent school for the heart. If 
 “we listen toits voice, we shall learn the true wisdom 
 which leads to everlasting happiness. 
 
 DECEMBER IX. 
 
 ' God’s Goodness manifested towards us even in those 
 
 Things which appear hurtful. 
 
 Most people wish that they were not exposed to any 
 evils. If they had their choice they would endeavour 
 to secure to themselves a life exempt from all care and 
 inquietude. But should we be really happy if nothing 
 occurred to disturb our tranquillity; or if, through our 
 lives, there were to be no vicissitudes of sad and plea- 
 
 sing events? This question, on the decision of which 
 
 depends our peace in this world, is worth examining ; 
 while we should at the same time guard as much as 
 possible against the delusions of self: love. 
 _ Should we be really happy if we experienced unin- 
 terrupted prosperity? I do not believe we should. A 
 constant state of enjoyment would saon grow insipid, 
 
4 
 
 and disgust would change our felicity into real misery, 
 On the contrary, the evils we sometimes meet with, en- 
 hance the value of our blessings, as colours are relieved 
 and set off by shade. If there were no winter, should 
 we be as sensible as we are of the charms of spring ?— 
 Should we know the value of health without sickn 
 the sweets of repose without labour, or the peace ‘and 
 consolation of a good conscience, if we had never been 
 tried and tempted? The more obstacles there are to_ 
 our happiness, the greater is our joy when we surmou 
 them. The heavier our misfortunes are, the more hap- 
 py we fecl when delivered from them. If all our days 
 were prosperous, we should probably abandon Se 
 to luxury, pride, and ambition. Were it not for nec 
 sity, nobody would take the trouble to be active or la- 
 borious in business; none would make use of their ti 
 lents, cultivate their minds, nor be animated with z 
 for the public. good. If we were never liable to danger, 
 how should we become prudent, or how should we oe 
 compassion? If we had no evils to fear, how easily 
 should we be intoxicated with happiness, and forget 
 gratitude to God, charity towards our neighbour, 
 
 all our duties in general. ¢ 
 
 Are not then these virtues, these, blessings of 
 soul, a thousand times preferable to a constant train of 
 pleasing sensations, which would assuredly become dull 
 and insipid by possession? He who constantly repose 
 in the lap of felicity, soon grows negligent of doing” 
 good, and is incapable of any great action: but let him 
 feel the strokes of adversity, and he will recover lr 
 wisdom, activity, and virtue. 
 
 How unjust and inconsistent are the desires of men! 
 They wish to*live quiet, contented, and happy; and yet 
 are discontented with the means which lead to the ae- 
 complishment of their own desires! In the heat of sum- 
 mer we sigh for coolness; yet we are displeased when 
 we see the clouds collect which are to obtain for us the 
 refreshing breeze. Thunder-storms purify the air, and 
 make the earth fruitful; yet we complain that the flash- 
 es of lightning terrify our minds. We acknowledge the 
 use of coals, minerals, and baths; but we dislike earth- 
 quakes. We wish that there were no infectious or epi- 
 demical disorders; and. yet we complain of the storms 
 which prevent the air. from corrupting. We wish to be 
 
 310 _ DECEMBER IX. 
 
Incidental Revolutions of our Globe. S11 
 
 attended by servants, and yet are unwilling that there 
 should be in the world either poverty, or inequality of 
 rank. Ina word, we are desirous of having every end 
 accomplished, without the use of the means which lead 
 to it. ; 
 _~ Let these reflections lead us to acknowledge the wise 
 and beneficent designs of God, even when he permits 
 us to be tried by the frequent vicissitudes of joy and 
 sorrow, of prosperity and adversity. Is he not the Ar- 
 biter of our fate; the Father, of whose goodness we 
 ought to be convinced, even when he thinks proper to 
 ‘chastise us? Are we not in a world subject by nature 
 to revolutions? Have we not often experienced, in the 
 course of our hives, that what our ignorance made us 
 consider as an evil, has in reality proved a mean of hap- 
 -piness? Let us then receive with calm resignation such 
 afflictions as the Almighty may see fit to dispense. ‘They 
 will only appear terrible at first: the longer we are ex- 
 | ercised by them, the more supportable will they become, 
 and the more we shall perceive their salutary effects. 
 ‘Win the season of adversity, we exercise our faith and 
 ‘patient hope, we shall eventually be enabled to bless 
 ' God even for our trials and afflictions. Ina future state 
 | we shall undoubtedly do so, and shall form a very dif- 
 ferent opinion of the troubles we have undergone in this 
 ‘world. Weshall then be convinced, that without these 
 / aftlictions, which we now lament, we should never have 
 obtained the happiness designed for us. 
 
 DECEMBER X. 
 Incidental Revolutions of our Globe. 
 
 oa 
 
 Nature every day produces changes on the surface of 
 the earth which have a considerable influence on the 
 ‘whole globe. Many ancient monuments prove, that its 
 _ surface in several places sinks down more or less, some- 
 times slowly, sometimes rapidly. ‘Phe wall built by the 
 Romans in Scotland in the second century, which ex- 
 
 tended across tlie whole country, is at present almost 
 entirely buried under ground; and remains of it are fre- 
 ‘quently discovered. Even mountains, those pillars of 
 the earth, are exposed to the same overthrow, occasion- 
 ed either by the nature of the ground, the waters which 
 ‘ Undermine and sap them, or by subterraneous fires. But 
 
 ? 
 
oS 
 
 when some parts of the globe’sink down, there are o- 
 thers, on the contrary, which rise up. A fertile valley, 
 at the end of a century, may be converted into a ma 
 where clay, turf, and other substances, form layers 
 over another. Lakes and gulfs are converted into d 
 land. In stagnant water, rushes, weeds, and different 
 plants grow ; while both animal and vegetable subst 
 ces putrify in them, and gradually form a sort of m 
 or mould, till at length the bottom becomes so muc 
 raised, that the place of the water is occupied by soli 
 earth. ia) 
 Subterraneous fires also produce great changes on 
 our globe. Their effects*are shown by three different 
 commotions, which are generally felt separately, but 
 which sometimes come altogether. The first consists 
 in a horizontal motion backward and forward. W. 
 these oscillations are violent and uneven, they thre 
 down buildings, and overturn every thing. . These u 
 dulating commotions, are particularly observed in 
 ters. There are other earthquakes, called shocks, ¢ 
 tossings, which sometimes cause new islands to rise su 
 denly from the bottom of the sea. The outward er 
 of the earth being lifted up with great violence, fal 
 down again, sinks in deeper chasms, and thus fo 
 lakes, marshes, and springs. Lastly, there are ex 
 sions, like the springing of a mine, accompanied by e 
 ruptions of inflammable matter. These violent shocks 
 and convulsions occasion great devastation, and make 
 considerable changes on the surface of our planet.’ The 
 outer coat of the earth breaks in different places, sinks 
 in on one side, and rises up on the other. The sea also 
 partakes of these commotions; and the most sensible 
 effect that appears from them is the formation of new 
 islands. These are produced by the elevation of the 
 bottom of the sea; or they are composed of pumice 
 stones, calcined rocks, and other substances thrown out 
 from some volcano. History informs us that through 
 earthquakes, occasioned by subterraneous fires, whole 
 cities have been swallowed up, and buried sixty feet un- 
 der ground; so that the earth which covered them was 
 afterwards sowed and cultivated. oo 
 Many of the alterations produced on our globe have 
 been caused by the undermining of waters. Heavy rains 
 soak into the mountains, and loosen much earth from 
 
 312 DECEMBER X. 
 
__ Incidental Revolutions of our Globe. 313 
 
 which being swept away into the sea and the 
 $s, raises the bottom of them considerably. The 
 se of rivers is often changed, and the coasts them- 
 ses are sometimes displaced. Sometimes the sea re- 
 res and leaves whole countries dry, which were for- 
 erly its bed; at other times it encroaches upon the 
 >, and whole provinces are completely inundated. 
 dems that were formerly close to the sea, are at 
 ent at a great distance from it. Anchors, and great 
 gn rings to moor vessels, and the remains of ships 
 ‘ound upon mountains, and in marshes, at a great dis- 
 ance from the ocean, prove beyond a doubt that many 
 olaces which are now dry land were formerly covered 
 the sea. There is every reason to believe that Eng- 
 and was formerly united to France; the beds of the 
 rth and stone, which are the same on both sides of 
 be Channel, and the shallowness of that strait seem te 
 ave it. 
 
 Climates also occasion great revolutions upon our 
 9c. Between the tropics, the heats and rains are al- 
 e; in some places it rains for several months suc- 
 ely, and at other times the heat is excessive.— 
 auntries in the vicinity of the poles are exposed to 
 sat changes by the severity of cold. In autumn the 
 ter penetrates through a multitude of little crevices 
 
 the rocks and mountains; there it freezes in winter, 
 ad the ice dilating and bursting causes great havock. 
 
 Such revolutions, produced by accidental causes, de- 
 mastrate the frailty of the world itself. They also prove 
 tat God is not an idle spectator of the alterations which 
 lace on our globe; but that he plans and directs 
 ole by Jaws infinitely. wise. Hence we may also 
 that all things here below are subject to constant 
 eissitudes. We may even observe that frequent acci- 
 ont changes give a new face, not only to the inani- 
 ate, but to the animated part of the creation. One 
 eration disappears and gives place to another. A- 
 ongst men, there are some who rise, while others fall. 
 - ome are raised to honours and dignity, while others 
 
 ak into poverty and contempt. There are continual 
 | igrations and changes of situation amongst creatures ; 
 
 le differences and gradations in their condition and 
 God has allotted to all beings different pe- 
 duration. Some bbe Aemgned for a short and 
 . i ( 
 
‘ oe 3 y ? 
 * 
 314 DECEMBER XI. . 
 momentary existence, others for a longer duration, and 
 some for everlasting life. In all this, how evaenta c 
 the wisdom, power, and goodness of the Creator s 
 
 forth! Bs 
 
 DECEMBER XI. 
 Sentiments of Gratitude for our Clothing. 
 
 Tue goodness of Providence appears even in our clot! 
 ing. How many animals bestow upon us their -skins, 
 their hair, and their fur, for this purpose! The sheep 
 alone, with its wool, furnishes the most necessary 
 of our dress; and it is to the valuable Jabours of a fi 
 that we owe our silks. How many plants also do we 
 find of use in this respect! Hemp and flax furnish us 
 with linen, and many different stuffs are formed of cot- 
 ton; but even these vast- stores of nature would have 
 been insufficient, if God had not endowed man with in- 
 dustry, and with an inexhaustible fund of invention, to 
 contrive and prepare clothing of different kinds. If we 
 only reflect upon the labour requisite to produce a single 
 piece of cloth, we shall find that the united exertions of 
 many hands are indispensably necessary to prepare € 
 a few yards. And surely we have but little cause to’ 
 vain of our dress, since we are compelled, in obtaini 
 it, to have recourse not only to the animals most ce 
 temptible in our eyes, but also to the rank of p 
 our pride disdains the most. _ 
 But why has the Creator obliged us to provide our 
 selves with clothing, while all animals receive theirs im- 
 mediately from'nature? I reply, that this necessity is 
 very advantageous to us; as being favourable to our 
 health, and adapted to our mode of life. We may by 
 this means regulate our dress according to the season 
 of the year, the climate in which we live, and the pro- 
 fession or employment in which we are engaged. Our 
 clothes promote that insensible perspiration which is so 
 essential to the preservation of life; and the necessity 
 we are under of obtaining them for ourselves, has ex- 
 ercised the human mind, and given rise to the invention 
 of many arts. And, lastly, the labour they require, pro- 
 vides subsistence for a number of workmen. We have, 
 therefore, great reason to be contented with this ar- 
 rangement of Providence: let us only take care not to 
 
 > 
 
 . 
 : 
 
 . 
 $ 
 bid 
 
” - 
 / . 
 
 The Clothing of Animals. 315 
 
 ‘Trustrate the designs proposed by it. A good Christian’ 
 ought never to glory in the external ornaments of his 
 body, but rather in the inward qualities of the mind. 
 | Pride assumes a variety of forms; it is elated by the 
 _ most trifling advantages, and seeks for applause where 
 none is merited. And, in regard to outward appear- 
 nce, some show their pride in the splendor of their 
 | silks, gold, and jewels, whilst others nourish it under 
 | gags. The true Christian will avoid both these extremes; 
 | and the former he will consider as the grossest absurdi- 
 _ ty; since it is degrading to human nature to glory in 
 oo ornaments. We wear clothes to preserve us 
 om the intemperance of the air, to distinguish the sex- 
 = and to establish those distinctions which are requi- 
 / site in the different orders of society. These are the 
 | rational ends for which, since the fall of man, our gar- 
 "ments have been designed; and we should use them on- 
 for the fulfilment of these designs. 
 
 DECEMBER XII. 
 The Clothing of Animals. 
 
 is a wonderful arrangement of Divine Providence, 
 ‘that all animals are naturally provided with those cover- 
 “ings which are best adapted to their situation and man- 
 ner of life. Some are covered with hair, some with fea- 
 thers, and others with scales and shells. This variety 
 is an indubitable proof that a wise artist has prepared 
 ‘their clothing; for it is not only adapted in general to 
 
 the different species, but appropriated to each indivi- 
 - dual. Hair is the most convenient clothing for quadru-- 
 es Nature in giving it to them has likewise so form- 
 ed the texture of their skin, that they can easily lié 
 down on the ground in any weather, and be employed 
 in the service of man. The thick fur of some animals 
 ~ not only guards them from wet and cold but also serves 
 ia ae their young, and to provide them with a soft 
 q 
 
 _ For birds, and some sorts of insects, feathers form the 
 ‘most convenient clothing. Besides protecting them from 
 Id and wet, they are ranged in the manner most pro- - 
 yer to support them in the air. On -this.account they ~ 
 are spread over the whole body, and their delicate tex- 
 ture is peculiarly isk sas to flight. They are light 
 ‘ « 2 
 
™ ba - 
 a 
 
 316 DECEMBER XII. 
 
 and hollow, and their quills contain a marrowy substance, 
 which strengthens them: while the capillary filaments, 
 curiously ‘interwoven, render them thick enough 
 maintain the heat of the body, to preserve them fron 
 the inclemency of the weather, and to give the wings a 
 sufficient degree of strength. ' 
 The clothing of reptiles is perfectly adapted to their 
 _mode of life. Observe, for example, the ae 
 Its body is composed of a series of Fittle rings, and eac 
 ring is furnished with a certain number of muscles, 
 means of which it can extend or contract its body 
 pleasure. These creatures have under their skin a glu- 
 tinous juice, which exudes and makes their bodies “ 
 
 under ground, which they could not do if they wet 
 covered with hair, feathers, or scales. a 
 The substance which covers aquatic animals is equal. 
 ly adapted to the element they inhabit. Fish could have 
 no clothing more convenient than scales, the form, hard- 
 ness, size, number, and position of which are perfeetly 
 suited to their way of living. Nor could shell-fish have 
 been better.clothed or housed than they are. ie 
 The beauty of these various kinds of covering is also 
 very remarkable; particularly in some species of birds 
 and insects. If we observe the butterflies, their beauty 
 must strike us with surprise and admiration: some am 
 drest with the sweetest simplicity, while others exhibil 
 a profusion of the most brilliant colours. And hoy 
 greatly has nature diversified the beauty and plumage 
 of birds! The little humming bird of America is one 
 of the wonders of nature. It is not larger than a bee, 
 but of so beautiful a plumage, that its head and wings 
 resemble the rainbow. Its neck is of a bright ruby red: 
 the belly and under part of the wings are of a gold co- 
 lour; the thighs are green as an emerald, and the he 
 and bill black as ebony. The males have a small tuft 
 upon their heads, composed of all the colours that a- 
 dorn the rest of the body, and which are worn as pen=— 
 dants in the ears of the Mexican ladies. if 
 It is impossible not to suppose, that in the coverings 
 of birds God had in view their convenience, use, and 
 beauty. Every animal has that kind of dress which is 
 most suitable. Nothing is superfluous, nothing want- 
 ing; but every thing is so planned, and so complete, 
 even in the lowest creature, that the whole art of mam 
 
Thoughts on the Ravages of Winter. 317 
 
 * 
 
 cannot imitate it. Does not this demonstrate the exist- 
 ence of a Being whose infinite wisdom unites with unli- 
 mited goodness, to render each creature as. happy as 
 its nature and design will permit? 
 
 DECEMBER XIII. 
 Thoughis on the Ravages of Winter. 
 
 « 
 
 ‘HEAR the winds and the tempests roar; and my blood | 
 is almost frozen in my veins. The gloominess of the 
 day, its almost extinguished light, and the fearful mis- 
 givings of my own heart, all concur to render this tu- 
 mult and disorder in nature particularly dreadful. How 
 often has the wind blown down cottages, and even pa- | 
 laces; thus in a moment destroying the labour of years! » 
 ‘How often has it plunged into the abyss, ships, and the 
 unhappy beings who hazarded their lives on such frail 
 foundations! How often has it torn up by the roots 
 the stately oak! But thou, O God! art the Creator 
 d Ruler of all things. The tempest and the northern 
 ‘blast are thy messengers, the heralds of thy power, and 
 the ministers of thy will. If thou didst not set bounds 
 ‘to their destructive effects, they would every where, . 
 and at all times, occasion the same mischief; and yet 
 we behold the poor cottage, which nothing shelters 
 ee their fury, still standing. Thanks to Divine Pow- 
 r, which rebukes the wind and the sea! Thanks to 
 that Wisdom which has ordained all things for the best! 
 _ Here it may be asked, why the mischief which storms 
 and tempests occasion should be permitted, ifthe world 
 (and all the events of it, are the works of Infinite Wis- 
 }dom?. Can Perfect Wisdom produce any thing but or- 
 ‘der, Perfect Goodness any thing that is bad? Or is it 
 thus that frail humanity may reason? But what is man, 
 that he dare dispute with God? Shall the creature say 
 to his Creator, Why hast thou made me thus? And, 
 because we cannot comprehend the works of God, does 
 it therefore follow that they are destructive? In order - 
 to judge of them, and of the purposes for which they 
 re designed, we should equal him in knowledge and 
 Wisdom. It is, indeed, wonderful that we are able to 
 perceive a part of the order he has established, or to 
 comprehend even a little of this wise and extensive plan; 
 and, considering our want of understanding, it is a mi- 
 
318 DECEMBER SII. , 3 
 
 racle that things do not appear stil] more confusedly td. 
 us. Alas! all would be disorder and confusion; ther 
 would be neither order, harmony, nor happiness in th 
 universe, were it not for the existence of a Being who 
 wisdom, goodness, and power surpass all our concep- 
 tions; and who created the world and all things in it 
 If the general plan, and common course of nature, vi- 
 sibly tend to the welfare of all created beings, whatever 
 particular accidents may seem to contradict the desig 
 only prove our ignorance and the limited state of ow 
 understanding. ‘To form one whole out of the materi- 
 als of which the visible world is composed, wherein s 
 magnificent phenomena appear, wherein are displays 
 the several beauties and treasures.of knowledge, virtu 
 and felicity which are displayed before our eyes, is 
 work so wonderful and divine, as none could have con- 
 ceived ‘or executed, but an Omniscient, Almighty, a 
 Perfect Being. a 
 The farther we advance in the researches of nature’s 
 works, the more clearly we distinguish the wisdom and 
 goodness which govern the whole. On these principles, 
 we shall judge very differently from what we should o- 
 therwise do, in respect to the ravages of winter. Even 
 the storms, the snow, the frost, and all that appears ¢ 
 this season so disagreeable, are linked together in the 
 everlasting order-of things. Every thing has its cause, 
 and comes precisely at the appointed time; and — 
 means of these revolutions, Divine Wisdom preserves 
 uninjured the harmony of the universe. The wind, 
 which terrifies the mariner at sea, drives the water up- 
 on barren lands. The sulphureous vapours, salts, ant 
 other matter, driven by the winds from one country to. 
 another, refresh the earth, and restore*fertility. Thus 
 the winter, which appears so destructive, enables our 
 fields to produce new crops. Dh 
 At present the ground, the meadows, and the gar- 
 dens are buried under the ice and ‘snow; the inhabit-— 
 ants of the forest howl more hideously than usual; the 
 wild beasts are oppressed with hunger; and the whole 
 world appears dead. But God -preserves the earth un- 
 der this appareut death, and watches over fainting na- 
 ture.. What miracles does he perform amidst the gloomy 
 scenes of winter! The sparrow which can no longer. 
 find food, lives, notwithstanding, in the place of its re - 
 
= 
 
 _ Sagacity of Animals in procuring Subsistence. 319 
 “treat upon the gifts of Divine beneficence. The eartl: 
 “no longer yields her various productions, but the Crea- 
 _ tor’s hand, which is never closed, provides the neces- 
 » saries of life, and he calls into. being things which at 
 resent have no existence- ; 
 
 DECEMBER. XIV... 
 
 : _ Sagacity of Animals in procuring Subsistence for the 
 eid Winter. 
 
 ZERE are some animals which lay up stores for win-- 
 sr, and in their harvest-time prepare provisions for six 
 ponths. It might be supposed they foresaw a season 
 in which they could not gather food; and that, guard- 
 > ine against future wants, they knew how to calculate 
 the quantity which would be requisite, both for their 
 own consumption, and for that of their families. 
 
 __ Amongst insects, bees are almost the oaly species that 
 _ lay up provisions for the winter.. They are very econo- 
 mical in the use of their wax, as they know they.can ga- 
 ther no more when the season for flowers is over, and 
 have then no other resources for subsistence, or for mak- 
 ing their cells, but what they have already collected. 
 They have also the prudence to gather another kind of 
 substance, which they require to keep out the cold from 
 their hives: this isa glutinous substance, collected from 
 owers and bitter plants, which they use in stopping up 
 _ every crevice in their hives. They waste nothing, 
 what they do net want at the present, they reserve for 
 he future.. Those who have narrowly observed them 
 assure us, that; when in winter they uncover the honey- 
 _ tombs, they-carry off the wax with which the cells were 
 _ closed, and lay it up for future use. 
 ___ Among quadrupeds the hamster and field mouse are 
 3 those which lay up winter provisions, and, in harvest- 
 time, convey a quantity of grain to their subterraneous 
 habitations. Amongst birds, magpies and jays collect 
 - acorns during, the autumn, and preserve them against 
 _ the inclement season in hollow trees. The animals that 
 sleep all the winter lay up no provisions, as they would 
 be useless ; but the others are not content with provid- 
 ing for the present moment, they think also of the fu- 
 ture, and it has never been observed that they failed in . 
 ing a sufficient quantity. . 
 
320 DECEMBER XIV. 
 
 These economical cares cannot be the result of re- 
 flection, for that would be to suppose animals ondawel 
 with much more intelligence than they really possess. 
 In fact, they only think of the present, and of whatever — 
 affects their senses agreeably or disagreeably. And if 
 the present have any reference to the future, it is with- 
 out any design or consciousness of theirs. How, in- 
 deed, can there be any foresight or-reflection in this in-_ 
 stinct of animals, when they have no experience of the 
 changes of seasons, or the nature of winter; and when, 
 having no idea of measuring time, they neither know 
 when winter will come, nor how long it will continue & 
 Nor can they be supposed to have any reason or-ideas — 
 of futurity, or to seek means of subsisting daring the 
 severe season from reflection; since they always act in- 
 variably the same, and each species follows constantly” 
 and naturally the same method, without any instruction, . 
 
 For example, when the industrious bees go on col-— 
 lecting hovey and wax, and filling their magazines with 
 them as long as the season permits, it is not because” 
 they foresee that a time will come in ng can. 
 collect no more. How should creatures, which haven 
 only sensual perceptions, judge of futurity? Nature” 
 prompts them to gather wax and honey; to labour du-— 
 ring the fine weather; and by the time winter comes, 
 they have generally filled their magazines. These ana 
 mals, like all others, act blindly, and almost mechani= 
 cally, without reflection or design, though they appear — 
 to be led by the rules of wisdom and prudence. Being 
 then void of reason, this wise economy, this appearance © 
 of foresight and reflection, must necessarily be the con- 
 sequence of a Superior Intelligence, whose views they 
 fulfil without knowing it. 
 
 In this consists part of our superiority over the brute — 
 creation. We can represent to our minds the past and - 
 the future. We can act from reflection, and form plans. — 
 We can determine through motives, and choose what is 
 most suitable. But how important is it that we should 
 make a proper use of these prerogatives! Informed as 
 we are of the great revolutions which await us, and being 
 enabled to look forward to the winter of life, ought we 
 not to lay up for ourselves a store of consolations, which 
 may render our latter days not only supportable, but 
 happy? Nothing can be more miserable than an old « 
 
, 
 ‘ Advantages of Winter. 321 
 
 ‘person who has passed his best days with a careless in- 
 ‘difference about futurity, and finds himself in the win- 
 ter of life, devoid of every resource and comfort. Let 
 ‘us not imitate such inconsiderate conduct; but let us 
 ‘immediately adopt those measures which may render 
 our old age truly comfortable, and gild our path with 
 ‘the rays of joy as we pass into eternity. 
 
 DECEMBER XV. 
 ‘ Advantages of Winter. 
 
 7 
 
 Let us reflect on the blessings which God grants us in 
 “this severe season. The frost and cold prevent many 
 hurtful vapours in the higher regions of the atmosphere ~ 
 from falling upon us, and even purify the air. Far from 
 being prejudicial to our health, they often improve it, 
 _and preserve our humours from that putrefaction, which 
 _aconstant heat would certainly produce. Ifthe vapours 
 which collect in the atmosphere were always to fall in 
 rain, the earth would become too soft and wet, the roads 
 ‘would be rendered impassable, and our bodies would be 
 too much relaxed; whereas the cold braces them, and 
 | promotes the circulation of the blood. In very hot coun- 
 / tries, and in those where there is much rain during the 
 / winter, severe and dangerous diseases are much more 
 | frequent than in other places. Travellers inform us, that 
 in Greenland, where the country is covered with mount- 
 ains of ice, and where in winter the days are only four 
 or five hours long, the air is very wholesome, clear, and 
 light: and, except a few complaints in the chest and 
 | eyes, occasioned partly by the quality of the food, the 
 | disorders most common in Europe are very rarely met 
 with. It is also certain, that the constitution of the hu- 
 | man body varies according ‘to the difference of climates; 
 -eonsequently the inhabitants of the northern countries 
 | have constitutions adapted to extreme cold, and are ge- 
 nerally strong and robust. As man, though active by 
 choice; and though labour is necessary to him, is still 
 | glad to interrupt his employments to taste the sweets of 
 ‘sleep; so also does our nature yield to the change of 
 ‘seasons, and takes a pleasure in it, because, in reality, 
 “it contributes towards our welfare and happiness. 
 _ Behold the fields and gardens! They are at present 
 buried in snow; but this is necessary, in order to pre- 
 
 V 
 
 ; 
 
" at eo. = 
 
 322 . DECEMBER XV. 4 
 serve them from the cold, as well as to prevent the grain 
 
 from corrupting. The earth requires repose after hav- 
 
 ing yielded in the summer all that we want for the win- 
 
 ter. If our present support had not been provided for, 
 
 if in this severe season we were obliged to cultivate the. 
 earth, there might be some foundation for complaint. 
 
 - But all our wants are supplied, and we enjoy a repose 
 
 suitable to the season. 
 
 How tender are the mercies of Providence during 
 these winter months! God has endued men with that 
 industry which is reguisite to defend themselves from 
 the cold and frost. ‘Their inventive minds have found 
 the means of procuring an artificial warmth, by which 
 they enjoy in their apartments some of the comforts of 
 summer. The care of Providence is no less vine a 
 the annual produce of wood, and its astonishi 
 crease, than in the fertility of our fields. We have al- 
 so many animals at our command that are very useful 
 in enabling us to support the severity of the season, 
 And the colder the country, the more numerous are 
 those useful creatures whose furs are designed to keep 
 us warm. Is it not therefore evident that Divine Wis- 
 dom foresaw the several wants of different countries, 
 and designed to relieve them by placing animals in them 
 which could live no where else? ay 
 
 Winter does not interrupt trade, nor the exercise of 
 professions: for though the rivers, in many places, hat 
 lost their fluidity, their surface, solid as a rock, is con= 
 verted into a road, where carriages may pass in safety. 
 Men are not condemned to inaction or idleness during — 
 this season ; for if they are obliged to suspend the la- 
 bours of the field, they have a thousand ways of em- 
 ploying themselves usefully in domestic life. The te- 
 pose of nature prompts them.to muse upon themselves. 
 It is true, they can no longer behold the beauties of 
 
 _ spring and summer; but their minds may be so much 
 the more at liberty io reflect, even in the darkness of — 
 night, upon the instability of all earthly things, which 
 may lead them to a firm resolution of devoting them- 
 selves to the service of that Great Being who is immu- 
 table. Man is now at leisure in his calm retreat to cul- 
 tivate his mind, to examine his heart, to correct his 
 faults, and to lay up treasures of good works. Happy 
 should we be if we made so good a use of this season! 
 
 _ 
 
The Elements. 323 
 
 If during the gloomy months of winter, we do not reap 
 our fields, gather in the vintage, nor cultivate our gar- 
 dens ; we may at least improve our minds, and endeav- 
 our to render ourselves serviceable to our fellow-crea- 
 tures. However rigorous the season may be, it may. 
 notwithstanding afford us abundant reasons to adore our 
 Creator, to acknowledge his mercies, and to trust in his 
 good providence. 
 
 DECEMBER XVI. 
 The Elements. 
 
 WHETHER we consider the universe as a whole, or ex- 
 amine its different parts separately, we shall find equal - 
 reason to admire the power and wisdom of the Creator. 
 It is true, that we have but a very imperfect knowledge 
 of things, and can seldom go beyond conjecture and 
 probability. But this is sufficient to prove to us, on one 
 hand, the greatness of God, and, on the other, the weak- 
 ness of our reason. Perhaps all the elements are of the 
 same nature, and may be reduced to a single essence, 
 so combined as to form but one whole. But as it wouid 
 be very difficult to consider the elements in this point 
 of view, it is necessary to divide them, and consider 
 ea aed the primitive parts of which they are com- 
 osed. 
 4 How various and admirable are the properties of the 
 air, which we every moment respire! With what force 
 does it divide and dissolve all sorts of substances, con- 
 trasting, at the same time, their different qualities! The 
 innumerable vapours and exhalations which blend and 
 unite with it, render it sometimes hurtful, but in gene- 
 ral wholesome and good. ‘Those foreign particles with 
 which the air is loaded, its elasticity, the property it has 
 of rarefying, of condensing, and of recovering its natu- 
 ral state, produce those meteors which disperse the 
 noxious vapours, purify the atmosphere, and promote 
 the vegetation of plants. And though the effects of the 
 air are sometimes severe, they are absolutely necessary 
 ‘to prevent the earth from becoming a barren desert.— 
 There are, however, in this element, as in all God’s 
 works, impenetrable mysteries. Who, for example, can 
 | explain, how the particles of air, though so subtile as 
 "entirely to escape our sight, are the means by which e- 
 
i 
 
 324 DECEMBER XVI. 
 
 very other object becomes visible? What can be more 
 wonderful than the equilibrium between the outward — 
 air and that which is within our bodies, a balance on 
 which our health and even life depends? And who 
 can sufficiently admire, that one and the same element 
 should be the medium through which sounds, light, and 
 odours, should be transmitted to us ? of 
 Water has a great conformity with air; and its pro- 
 perties and effects are not less various and admirable, 
 How many different qualities has God given to this e- 
 lement! All the abundance and salubrity of the air, 
 all the richness of. the earth, and the warmth of fir 
 could not save us from perishing, if we were destitute 
 _water. Of how many changes is it susceptible! Who 
 has given it the property of dilating, dividing, and rare- 
 fying to such a degree, that it can rise to the height of 
 a league in the atmosphere, form itself into fogs an 
 clouds, and there continue suspended? Who has given 
 it the power of penetrating into plants, of again passing 
 out through their insensible pores, and of diffusing it- 
 self over our fields and valleys in the form of a refresh- 
 ing dew? How astonishing is the nemeny it has 
 becoming*sometimes lighter than air, though a quanti- 
 ty of water is nearly nine hundred times heavier 
 an equal quantity of air; of resuming afterwards its na-— 
 tural weight, of attaching itself to other bodies, of dis- 
 solving the most compact substances, and of even unit- 
 ing with fire ! — 
 Of all the elements, we know the least of the nature 
 of fire. It is too subtile for our eyes, but its qualities, — 
 properties, and effects, are sufficiently obvious. Whe- 
 ther the essence of fire consist in motion only, or in the 
 fermentation of what we call inflammable matter, or 
 whether (as many experiments render probable) it be 
 a simple substance different in its nature from all other 
 bodies, it is certain, that its prodigious abundance, its 
 uses, and its wonderful effects, deserve our. utmost at- 
 tention. There is nothing, however cold, that does not 
 contain fiery particles, capable of ignition. Fire exists 
 every where: in the air we breathe, in the water we 
 drink, and in the earth which supports us. It is a part 
 of the composition of all bodies; it penetrates their 
 smallest pores; it unites closely with them; it moves 
 with them from one place to another; and however 
 
The Sun’s Influence on the Earth. 325 
 
 confined, does not fail to discover itself. How forcibly 
 does it dilate the air which surrounds it, whilst the air, 
 in its turn, nourishes the fire, and renders it more ac- 
 tive! It gives fluidity to the water, fertility to the earth, 
 health to mankind, and life to all animals. 
 
 Earth, when pure, is distinguished from other bodies 
 by having neither taste nor smell, by being insoluble 
 either in water or spirits of wine, and being easily bruised 
 
 tween the fingers. At first sight, it appears very dif- 
 ferent from the other elements, and it has so much con- 
 formity with them, that some naturalists believe that 
 
 water is nothing but dissolved earth, and that the earth 
 is water in a condensed state. According to this sys- 
 tem, the water is constantly diminishing upon our globe, 
 and gradually forming compact bodies; because former- 
 ly our planét was only a wet and fluid mass, and, in still 
 more remote times, nothing but water. 
 _ All the elements are necessary to our existence and 
 preservation; and if we reflect on their properties, and 
 the variety of effects they produce, we shall find them 
 all worthy of our admiration. How many properties 
 different from each other has the Almighty given to his 
 works! How many agents in heaven, and upon earth 
 are always in motion for the preservation of the universe 
 in general, and of each individual in particular! What 
 wonderful revolutions, what phenomena, are produced 
 by the mere combination of the elements! It would be 
  €asier to number God’s creatures, than to calculate all 
 ‘the forces which are in action. How infinitely great 
 then must that Power be, from which they all proceed! 
 They all depend upon the will of an Almighty Creator. 
 He has formed the whole; and impressed upon each a 
 constant, uniform, and salutary motion¢ It is he who 
 maintains the elements in that equilibrium to which the 
 world owes its preservation. To him, therefore, let us 
 ascribe eternal honour, glory, and praise. 
 
 DECEMBER XVII. 
 The Sun’s Influence on the Earth. 
 
 Tue sun is the constant source of that light which is so 
 
 abundantly diffused over our globe. This light of the 
 
 sun is the most subtile fire; it penetrates all bodies; 
 
 and, when in sufficient quantity, it puts all their parts 
 VOL. Li. Ee 
 
326 DECEMBER XVII. 
 
 into motion, attenuates and decomposes them, dissolves 
 those that are solid, rarefies those that are fluid, and 
 thus adapts them to an infinity of motions. 
 
 Is it not evident, that on this variety of influence 
 which the sun has on bodies, most of the phenomena 
 and revolutions of our globe must depend? When the 
 force of the sun’s light increases, that is, when the rays 
 fall less obliquely, and in a greater quantity, on a given 
 space, and continue longer each day, as is the case in 
 summer, this must necessarily produce considerable 
 changes both in the atmosphere and on the surface of 
 the earth. On the other hand, when the rays fall more 
 obliquely, consequently more feeble, and, the days be- 
 ing shorter, their action is less prolonged, as in winter, 
 what different changes are observable both on the earth 
 and in the atmosphere! What a gradual alteration do 
 we perceive, when from the remote sign of capricorn, 
 the sun advances nearer to tle equinoctial line, till the 
 days and nights become of equal length! And how max 
 ny new phenomena appear when this luminous and ac- 
 tive body returns in summer from the tropic of cancer 
 towards the line, till the days and nights become again 
 equal in autumn, and the sun removes from our zenith! 
 
 It is on the distance of this luminary that all the va~ 
 riations depend which we observe in the vegetation of 
 plants, and the internal constitution of bodies in all eli- 
 mates, and at every season. Hence each season and 
 climate has: plants and animals peculiar to itself; and 
 the progress of vegetation is more or less rapid, and the 
 productions of nature continue.a longer or shorter space 
 of time; but it would be impossible to describe, or even 
 to point out, all the different effects of the sun upon our 
 earth. All the changes and revolutions of the globe 
 have their principle in the influence of the sun; for the 
 different degrees of heat and cold depend chiefly upon 
 this luminary; I say chiefly, because the nature of the 
 soil, the different heights and positions of mountains, , 
 and other circumstances may contribute towards a coun- 
 try’s being more or less cold, and more or less subject 
 to rain, wind, and other variations of the atmosphere. 
 But it remains certain, that these accessory causes would 
 not be sufficient to produce the effects observable in ma- 
 ny places and at different times. For these effects would 
 not be produced if the. heat of the sun did not act’ in 
 the manner it does, 
 
Winter Rains. 327 
 
 It vequires but very little attention to be convinced 
 of the numerous and sensible effects of which the sun is 
 the primary cause. At one time he rarefies, at another 
 condenses, the air; sometimes he raises ‘vapours and 
 fogs, and sometimes compresses them together, in order 
 to form them into different meteors. He gives circula- 
 tion to the sap in trees and vegetables, which causes the 
 leaves and blossoms to unfold, and ripens the latter in- 
 to fruit.’ He animates all nature, and is the source of 
 that vivifying warmth which gives to organized bodies 
 the power of developing themselves, and of growing to 
 perfection. He operates even in the depths under 
 ground, where he produces metals, and gives life to a- 
 nimals. He even penetrates into rocks and mountains, - 
 and his influence reaches to the bottom of the sea. This 
 alone might suffice to convince us of the power of Gad; 
 but if we consider with how much art he has drawn a 
 amultitude of great effects from the same itstrument, 
 and produced so many phenomena of nature from the 
 mere heat of the sun, we shall be still more sensibly per- 
 suaded, that nothing but Infinite Wisdom, united with 
 boundless power, could ever have effected such won- 
 ders. Would mankind deserve to be enlightened, warm- 
 ed, and cheered by the sun, if in these salutary effects 
 _ of its influence, they did not acknowledge the glorious 
 _ perfections of the Supreme Being? and if they did not 
 _ adore him with the most profound veneration 7 
 
 } DECEMBER XVIII. 
 a Winter Rains. 
 
 How different are the cold rains which fall at this sea- 
 son, from those warm refreshing showers which in sum- 
 mer embellished and fertilized the earth. This change 
 _ gives a melancholy appearance to nature. The sun is 
 yeiled, and the whole sky appears like one immense 
 loud. Our prospects are confined; for a gloomy ob- 
  scurity surrounds us, and we are threatened by the ga- 
 thering storm. At length the heavy clouds discharge 
 ~ their contents, and inundate the earth: the atmosphere 
 seems an inexhaustible reservoir of water, while the 
 _ brooks and rivers overflow their banks, and roll impe- 
 | tuously over the adjacent meadows. 
 _ However disagreeable and inconvenient this weather 
 Ee2 j 
 
328 DECEMBER XVIII. 
 
 may appear, we must acknowledge it is ordained for wise 
 and beneficent purposes. ‘The earth, in a manner ex: 
 hausted by its fruitfulness, has occasion to recover its 
 strength, and for this end, it not only requires rest, but 
 moisture also. The rain waters:and revives the thirsty 
 Jand, and: penetrates to the lowest roots of the plants, 
 The withered leaves, which covered the groriady now 
 rot, and become excellent manure. And the he 
 rains fill up the rivers anew, and furnish the springs wif 
 water. Nature is never idle. She is constantly emple 
 ed, though her labours are sometimes concealed. 
 clouds, by pouring down a profusion of rain or snow, 
 prepare the fertility of the ensuing year, and the riches 
 ef summer. And when the heat of the sun brings baek 
 the dry season, the ample springs which the winter rains 
 had formed, diffuse their waters over the fields and 
 leys, and adorn them with new verdure. Thus, thei 
 finitely wise Creator provides against the future; and 
 what appears to us an evil, becomes the source of 
 beauties and treasures which spring and summer lavish 
 
 onus. The gifts bestowed upon us, by these the 
 
 are as innumerable as the drops which fall from 
 clouds; and at the very time that blind and ign 
 morials are uttering loud complaints, instead of present 
 ing a tribute of praise, Eternal Wisdom invariably con- 
 tinues to complete its beneficent designs. Ҥ 
 Our preservation is the principal end which God pro- 
 poses in watering the earth with rain. But the Divine 
 Wisdom knows how to unite different designs, and make 
 them subordinate to each other; and from the proper 
 combination of these, results the order and harmony of 
 the universe. Thus, the animals which exist not only 
 for mankind, but for themselves, requiring to be sup- 
 ported and fed, it is for them, as well as for us, that 
 the rains descend from the clouds, and render the earth 
 fruitful. , a 
 But here, as in every thing else, we discover the wisest | 
 economy. All the vapours and exhalations which daily 
 rise from the earth are collected and preserved in the 
 atmosphere, to-be restored, either in the form of little 
 drops, heavy rains, or flakes of snow, according to the 
 occasion. Even the smallest sprinkling, the lightest 
 fogs and dews, all contribute to make the earth fruitful. 
 But in vain would the vapours rise, in vain would the 
 
Imaginary Influence of Planets. 329° 
 
 clouds be formed, if nature had not furnished winds to 
 break and to disperse them on all sides, to convey them 
 from one place to another, and to water the ground 
 where it requires moistening. Were not this the case, 
 some districts would be deluged with perpetual showers, 
 while others would experience all the horrors of drought. 
 Trees, herbs, and corn, would also perish, if the winds 
 did not drive the clouds to the places allotted for the: 
 reception of their watery contents. God says, “ Let 
 there be enow on the earth,” and it descends in flakes; 
 and, when he says to the rain, “ Pall thou upon the 
 earth,” it falls in showers, and waters the country.— 
 However inconvenient the rains of winter, or the un- 
 comfortable temperature of this season may appear, they © 
 are, notwithstanding, absolutely necessary: so also are: 
 the dark and gloomy days of our lives. If we be desi- 
 rous of bringing forth the fruit of goud works, let us res 
 collect, it is not necessary, for this purpose, that the 
 sun of prosperity should continually shine upon us, or 
 that we should be exempted from trials and atHictions.. 
 Let us, therefore, receive adversity from the hand of- 
 God with resignation; since all his dispensations are: 
 inarked with infinite wisdom and goodness. 
 
 DECEMBER XIX. 
 Imaginary Influence of the Planets and Fixed Stars. 
 
 Tue prodigious distance of the celestial bodies, and the: 
 little connexion that our globe has with them, scarcely’ 
 
 rmits us to think that they can have any sensible in- 
 Riots upon it. There are, however, many superstiti-. 
 ous people who give implicit credit to such an influence,. 
 and affirm that there are continual emanations passing 
 from the stars and planets, which act upon our atmo- 
 Sphere, and upon all terrestrial bodies. But what are 
 these emanations? If by them be meant the proper 
 light of the stars, or the light of the sun reflected by 
 the planets, it evidently comes to very little, and is much 
 more inconsiderable than what the moon alone reflects 
 Upon us: therefore, as the light we receive from the: 
 moon has no sensible influence upon the earth, or the 
 atmosphere, the light of the planets and fixed stars must: 
 fave still less. If it were supposed that other matter: 
 issued from the stars, and reached us, it would be equals 
 
 2 
 
 Ee3 
 
ah J 
 330 DECEMBER XIX. 
 
 ly without foundation; for if these emanations were real, 
 they would, when collected in a burning glass, produce 
 some alteration or sensible change in terrestrial bodies; 
 but this is refuted by experience. It is, therefore, evi- 
 dent, that nothing proceeds from the celestial bodies but 
 the faint light they convey to us; or if any other ema- 
 nations proceed from them, they must be such as 
 through terrestrial bodies without causing the sma. 
 derangement in their parts. Astrologers, therefo 
 whether, they are weak enough to deceive themsely 
 
 or wish to impose on others, deserve nothing but con- 
 tempt when ihe tell us of the benign influence of Ju- 
 piter, the malignancy of Saturn, the wit-inspiring power 
 of Mercury, the warlike disposition produced by Mars, 
 and the amorous influence of Venus. $ 
 
 The planets, far from producing individually those 
 effects which astrologers have attributed to them, can- 
 not have any influence even when taken collectively, 
 What then shall we say of the rain-bringing Pleia 
 the tempestuous Orion, the melancholy Hyades, 
 setting of Arcturus, and the rising of Capricorn, por= 
 tending hail and tempests? What influence can the con- 
 stellation Taurus have on pease and beans? or that of 
 the star Sirius in respect to the madness of dogs? Or 
 what relation can subsist between Scorpio and the prox 
 ductions of haryest. 
 
 If the rising and setting of the different constellations . 
 were observed only as denoting the proper times for the 
 various labours of agriculture, and.not as the causes of 
 natural things, it would be excusable. In the early a- 
 ges of the world, the beginning, middle, and end of each 
 season, was not marked by months, but by the rising 
 and setting of the stars in conjunction with the sun, or by. 
 their immersion in, and emersion from, his rays. Hence 
 proceeds the vulgar opinion, that the different aspects 
 of those stars produced effects which, in reality, should 
 only be imputed to the seasons, and consequently to. 
 the sun.. Orion rises in autumn, and sets in winter, 
 which has induced some people to suppose that he is 
 the author of tempests: these, however, belong entirely 
 to autumn and winter ; whilst the rising and setting of 
 Orion only mark the time of those seasons. When the 
 dog-star rises with the sun, it is excessively hot in our 
 zone, but that constellation is not the cause of it. These. 
 
The Polar Star. 331i 
 
 lieats are occasioned by our sun being then at the high- 
 est. I say our sun; for in the opposite zone, when the 
 dog-star rises with the sun, it is so extremely cold as to 
 benumb animals, and to cover the rivers with ice; so 
 that the southern nations consider this constellation as 
 the cause of cold instead of heat. It is the same in re- 
 spect to the Pleiades, which are said to occasion rain ; 
 and all the other consteliations to which effects have 
 been attributed that really belong to the seasons in 
 which these stars rise or set. 
 
 If, then, the planets and fixed stars have no part in 
 the temperature and natural revolutions of our globe, 
 they must have still less influence upon human actions. 
 The happiness and misery of individuals, or of whole 
 nations, depend partly on naturai talents and passions, 
 and partly on the combination of certain moral and na- 
 tural circumstances; but the stars can have no influence 
 upon any of these. If they had, we might. be led to 
 doubt the government of Providence, and to believe 
 that the world is not governed by a Being infinitely 
 wise, good, just, and powerful. And who would wish 
 to inhabit a globe where all its revolutions depend on a 
 blind chance, or on the influence of the stars, which 
 must be fatal both to our natural and moral state ! 
 
 Let us, therefore, leave to the superstitious a science 
 so humiliating to the human mind, and so destructive 
 to our peace, which, in reality, is only a wretched per- 
 version of astronomy. 
 
 At the same time Jet us consider our wise and merci- 
 ful Creator as the only foundation on which we may 
 safely trust our present peace, and our eternal happiness. - 
 
 DECEMBER. XX.. 
 The Polar Star. 
 
 None of the northern constellations are more. remark- 
 able than that which is nearest to the aretic pole, and 
 is called the little bear. The extremity of its tail is but 
 two degrees from the pole, and for that reason it is call- 
 ed the polar star. It may, be easily distinguished from 
 the contiguous stars, because it scarcely seems to change 
 its position, and always occupies the same’ point in the 
 heavens: for though it revolves round the pole, its mo- 
 tion is so slow, and the circle it describes so small, that . 
 
a32 DECEMBER XX. 
 
 it is scarcely perceptible. As it is therefore visible al- 
 ways inithe same point of the firmament; it is a sure 
 guide to the mariner, particularly in the open seas. Be- 
 fore the discovery of the compass, sailors had no other 
 guide than the polar star; and even at this time, when 
 the sky is serene, they may, on many occasions, better 
 depend upon it than on the magnetic needle. } 
 
 These observations should lead us to reflect upon that 
 sure moral guide, which God has given to us in his sa- 
 cred WorD; particularly in his Gosprt, which points 
 out the narrow path we ought to follow, and the true 
 course we should steer while passing through the gloomy 
 deserts, and the stormy ocean of this world, surround 
 ed by clouds and darkness. Without this faithful guide 
 we should continually wander in uncertainty, and never 
 find the road that terminates in the mansions of endless 
 peace. It is in this blessed book of revelation alone that 
 we find a certain and invariable rule, by which we may 
 pursue with courage and alacrity the race that is set be« 
 fore us, and finish it with perfect joy. 
 
 What has been said respecting the polar star is also 
 calculated to make us admire the goodness of God, 
 who, by;the situation and course of the stars, has given 
 us a sure knowledge of times, places, and the different 
 points of the heavens. An astronomer, though in am 
 unknown country, can tell by the stars exactly where 
 he is, and can ascertain the month, the day and hour, 
 as correctly as if he had consulted the best watch. Tf, 
 for example, we only observe that the stars come every 
 day four minutes sooner to the place where they were 
 the preceding evening, we consequently know that this 
 will make two hours in each month. Thus,. the star 
 which we see this evening, the 20th of December, at 
 ten o’clock, in a certain part of the heavens, will be- 
 seen on the 20th of January, exactly in the same place 
 at eight o’clock. The star which is now at midnight 
 to be seen over our heads, will a year hence be in the 
 same spot again. 
 
 Let us here acknowledge God’s tender mercies to-. 
 ward all the inhabitants of the earth. How much would 
 those persons deserve pity who have neither clocks nor 
 geographical maps, if they could not supply. the want of ’ 
 them by the observation of the stars! If we put our- 
 selves in the place of those people, this reflection can- 
 
Effects of Air when confined in Bodies. 333 
 
 not appear indifferent; for we must be devoid of all the 
 feelings of humanity, if objects which do not indeed di- 
 _ rectly concern us, but which interest so many of our 
 fellow-creatures, should appear unworthy our attention. 
 Let us look up with gratitude towards the Creator of 
 all things. ‘The use that the stars are of, in this re- 
 _ spect, to mankind, is certainly one of the least advan- 
 - tages which result from the existence of those heaven- 
 ly bodies; and yet this advantage alone merits our 
 praise and thanksgiving. ‘ The heavens, O God, are 
 the work of thy hand: thou hast spread them out as a 
 curtain, and made them the ceiling of thy imperial pa- 
 lace. The highest heaven is thy throne, and thou hast 
 suspended the moon and stars in the regions of ether to. 
 illuminate our nights !”? 
 
 DECEMBER XXI. 
 Effects of Air when confined in Bodies 
 
 Tue effects of air when enclosed in bodies are very as- 
 tonishing. The consequence of fluids freezing is uni- 
 versally known. Water in this state frequently breaks 
 the vessels which contain it. And if a musket-barrel 
 be filled with water, and its muzzle hermetically sealed, 
 it bursts, when the cold is severe, with great violence. 
 ‘This at first view appears incomprehensible. We know 
 that water is not fluid of itself, but is made so by means 
 of the heat which penetrates into every part of it ; con- 
 sequently it becomes a solid mass when it is deprived 
 _ of the fiery particles, or when its motion ceases through 
 excess of cold. It seems, as if the particles of water 
 must draw closer, and condense, and of course that. the 
 frozen bodies should occupy less space than they did 
 before: yet they certainly dilate, and their size increases 
 by freezing, otherwise it would be impossible they should 
 burst the vessels. Besides, how could the ice swim at 
 top, if it did not increase in size, and thus become 
 lighter than water? 
 
 What then is the cause of this effect? Is it the in- 
 ternal air? It is not the cold, for this is no real being, 
 nor positive quality; and, properly speaking, it cannot 
 penetrate into bodies. It is equally certain that heat 
 is not the cause of this phenomenon. The air cannot 
 insinuate itself into vessels of glass hermetically sealed, 
 
334 DECEMBER XKi 
 
 and yet ice forms within them. We must, therefore, 
 seek the cause of it in the air which the water itself 
 contains when thus shut up. To be convinced of this, 
 we need only observe water beginning to freeze. The — 
 first coat of ice is scarcely formed, when the water be+ 
 gins to be agitated, and a number of little bubbles rises — 
 upon it; this upper crust of ice often rises up in the 
 middle, and cracks; then the water rushes out at the — 
 opening, flies against the vessel, and while running 
 down the sides it freezes. Hence it is, that towards the 
 middle of the surface the water appears elevated and 
 convex. These effects are prodtced by the internal 
 air, and would not take place, or but in a very small 
 degree, if the air were exhausted as much as possible 
 before the water began to freeze. 
 
 On this principle we may explain a variety of curious 
 henomena. Intense cold is very injurious to vegetas 
 les. We know that in all plants there is a circulation 
 
 of the sap, which, though it thickens in autumn and 
 winter, still continues fluid. An intense degree of cold 
 converts it into ice, and, consequently, increases its vo« 
 lume; which cannot take place without causing man 
 of the fibres and tubes of the plant to burst. In th 
 case it is evident, that when the sap becomes liquefied 
 in spring it cannot circulate properly; no more than 
 the circulation of blood can be carried on in an animal 
 whose veins are cut. ‘Thus the growth of the plant is 
 prevented, and it dies, because the nutritive juice can 
 no longer flow through its vessels. Let us observe, 
 however, that even this cold, which is prejudicial to 
 plants, may, in some respects, become very useful to 
 the earth. A field plowed before winter is better dis- 
 posed to receive the autumnal rains, and to let them 
 penetrate into it. If the frost succeed, the particles of 
 the earth dilate and separate, and the spring then com- 
 pletes the softening of the earth; rendering it light, 
 moveable, and fit to receive the benefit of the sun and 
 the fine weather. 
 
 Enough has been said to convince us of the power of 
 air, and of that expansive quality which is productive 
 of so many advantages to our globe. The property this 
 element has of condensing and rarefying so wonderful- 
 ly, is the cause of the greatest revolutions in the world. 
 
 t is but in a very few cases that the power of this fluid 
 
Music. 335 
 
 can become injurious; and even then the evil is more 
 than compensated by the advantages which result from 
 it. But it must be confessed, that in this, as well as in 
 every other phenomenon of nature, many things are 
 completely inexplicable. All that we know of the na- 
 ture, properties, and effects of air, is reduced in a great 
 measure to probable conjectures, which will be verified 
 perhaps in future, or possibly may be proved by those 
 who come after us, to have been ill-judged mistakes. 
 When, therefore, we contemplate the works of God in 
 nature, we should be careful to do it in the spirit of hu- 
 mility, and diffidence of our own knowledge, always re- 
 membering the weakness of the human understanding, 
 and the uncertainty of our opinions and systems. Re 
 any science, presumption is inexcusable; but when the 
 knowledge of nature is in question, it becomes absolute- 
 ly ridiculous. 
 
 DECEMBER XXII. 
 Music. 
 
 To music we are indebted for one of the purest and 
 most refined pleasures we can possibly enjoy. It pos- 
 sesses the power of charming our ears, soothing our 
 passions, affecting our hearts, and influencing our pro- 
 pensities. How often has it dissipated the gloom of 
 melancholy, animated the vital spirits, and ennobled 
 our sentiments! An art so useful and pleasing is pe- 
 culiarly deserving of our attention, and should induce 
 us to employ it in glorifying our beneficent Creator. 
 But whence proceeds the impression which music 
 makes upon our ears? It isan effect of the air, which 
 receives an undulatory motion, and which strikes our 
 | auditory nerves in a variety of ways. When a tight 
 cord is pulled, it changes its form; for its elasticity not 
 only causes it to go back to its first place, but also to 
 extend beyond it; and thus it continues vibrating back 
 und forward till it recovers the state from which it was 
 drawn. These vibrations communicate with the air, 
 which conveys them to other contiguous bodies. Hence 
 it is that, when an organ is played on, the strings of a 
 lute, if near it, will be put in motion, and make a sound. 
 | But how are we to account for the difference of sounds? 
 Why are some sharp and others flat? It is not the 
 
336 DECEMBER XXIII. 
 
 quantity of air put in motion; for a sound may be eithe 
 sharp or flat, and at the same time weak or loud: nei- 
 ther can it be imputed to the swiftness of the undula- 
 tions by which the sound is propagated in the air; for 
 a sharp note does not pass more rapidly from one place 
 to another than a flat. The difference proceeds, then, 
 from the greater or less rapidity of the vibrations of the 
 air. A sonorous body emits a sharp tone when the vi 
 brations of its parts are very quick, and a flat one whe 
 they are slower. But why are certain sounds, when 
 united together, harmonious and pleasing to the ear, 
 whilst others wound it by their discord? The only an- 
 swer to this is, that the natural character of harmony 
 consists in being in the same key; whereas in disso-_ 
 nance, the notes, though struck at the same time, dis- 
 agree, and produce a double sound to the ear, which is 
 very unpleasant. a 
 
 But of what use would harmony. be, if we could not 
 distinguish it from discord? Let us therefore bless” 
 God for having enabled us to receive and distinguish — 
 the different impressions of sound, and for haying given — 
 to our souls the power of associating certain ideas with 
 corporeal sensations. How much gratitude is due to 
 him for the many pure and innocent pleasures he has 
 given us to enjoy! Let us express our sense of it by — 
 making use of music to glorify his name! Let us, in 
 the most melodious sounds, lift up our hearts towards — 
 our great Benefactor, and celebrate his infinite go 
 ness. 
 
 DECEMBER XXIII. 2 
 
 Comparison between Men and Animals. 
 ly 
 
 In the comparison we are going to make between men 
 and other animals, there will be found some things | 
 which are common to both: others in which the brute 
 creation have an advantage over us: and, finally, some | 
 in which we are evidently superior. rer 
 The principal resemblance between men and brut d 
 is, that both are material. We have, like them, life me ’ 
 organized bodies, which are produced by generations: 
 birth, and supported by food. Both have also animal 
 spirits, powers to fulfil the different functions assigned 
 them: .both have voluntary motions, and the free ex- 
 
Comparison between Men and Animals. 337 
 
 | ercise of their limbs, senses, sensation, imagination, and 
 memory. By means of the senses, both experience the 
 sensations of pleasure and of pain, which cause them to 
 desire certain things, and to reject others; both have 
 2 natural propensity to self-preservation and the propa- 
 gation of their species; and both are equally liable to 
 those general bodily accidents which the relation of 
 things, the laws of motion, and the construction and 
 organization of their bodies may occasion. 
 In respect to the happiness resulting from sensual 
 
 leasures, animals have many advantages. One of the 
 chief is, that they do not require the clothing, defence, 
 ‘and conveniences which are necessary to men, nor are 
 they obliged to invent, to learn, and exercise the arts - 
 necessary for these purposes. They bring with them 
 into the world every thing they want, or at least they 
 have only to follow the instinct which nature has im- 
 planted in them, to obtain all that can make them hap- 
 py: This instinct never deceives them. And as soon 
 as their appetites are satisfied, they are perfectly con- 
 tented, they desire no more, and are never guilty of ex- 
 cess. They enjoy the present without troubling them- 
 selves about futurity; for there is every reason to be- 
 lieve that animals have not the faculty of representing 
 to themselves what may happen beyond the present mo- 
 ment. They never think of the morrow. Death itself 
 comes upon them without having been foreseen, and 
 without having been to them a cause of previous afflic- 
 tion. 
 
 __In all these respects brutes may be said to have the 
 advantage over human beings. Man is obliged to me- 
 ditate, invent, labour, exercise himself, and receive in- 
 structions, or he would remain in a state of perpetual 
 childhood, and could scarcely procure himself the ne- 
 cessaries of life. His instinct and passions are not sure 
 puides to him; on the contrary, were he to abandon 
 himself to them, he would soon become completely mi- 
 serable. It is reason alone that constitutes the essen- 
 tial difference between him and brutes, supplies all his 
 deficiencies, and, in other respects, gives him a decided 
 superiority. By means of this faculty, he not only ob- 
 tains every necessary and convenience, but is also ena- 
 bled to multiply the pleasures of sense, to ennoble them, 
 and to render them subservient to the best and greatest 
 
 VoL. 11. Ff 
 
338 DECEMBER XXIV. 
 
 purposes. His soul enjoys delights unknown to the 
 brute creation; pleasures which spring from sciene 
 wisdom, order, religion, and virtue, and which infinit 
 ly surpass all those of which the senses are the orga 
 because, in the first place, they tend to promote tl 
 erfection of human nature; secondly, they continua 
 y add to it; because they never forsake him, not ¢ 
 when his senses, deadened by sickness, old age, or any 
 other circumstances, become insensible to all animal 
 enjoyments ; and thirdly, they conform him more an 
 more to the mind and will of God: whilst, on the con 
 trary, the more a man abandons himself to mere sensual 
 gratifications, the more he degrades himself to the like 
 ness of a brute. 
 
 We may add, that the sphere in which animals are 
 permitted to move, is very confined, their desires < 
 propensities are few, and their pleasures but little di- 
 versified; while those of man are infinitely varied. He 
 can press almost every thing into his service, and knows 
 how to make every article useful in one way or ot 
 He continually makes new discoveries, acquires further 
 light, and makes a rapid progress in the road to perfec 
 tion and happiness; whereas the brutes, always confi-— 
 ned within their narrow limits, never invent nor improve 
 any thing; but always continue at the same point, ¢ 
 never rise by industry or ingenuity, above animals 
 the same species. 
 
 Hence we may conclude, that it is reason alone w 
 gives us a superiority over the brute creation; and 
 this the chief excellence of human nature consists. 
 make use of our reason in ordér to ennoble the pl 
 sures of sense, and to enjoy more and more those that 
 are intellectual, so as to improve daily in wisdom and 
 virtue, is the distinguishing characteristic of man. Thi 
 is the end for which he was created. Let it then be 
 our constant study to answer this purpose; for we can 
 only be happy in proportion as we follow what reason 
 and revelation point out to us as useful and right. be 
 
 ads 
 Ich 
 
 DECEMBER XXIV. od 4 
 Calculation concerning the Resurrection. . F fe : 
 
 Wit what a crowd of human creatures must a single 
 city be filled at the great day of resurrection! What 
 
‘ ? 
 
 Calculation concerning the Resurrection. 339 
 
 prodigious multitudes will be spread over the whole 
 | earth! prodigious indeed, but not innumerable. For 
 each of the dead is known unto the Lord, the name of 
 each is entered in the eternal register; all must ap- 
 pear before the judgment-seat, and none can escape 
 | the all-seeing eye of God. 
 Supposing that Germany began to be peopled five 
 _ hundred years after the general deluge, that is, about 
 _ four thousand five hundred years ago; and that from 
 the foundation of the city of Hamburgh to the day of 
 judgment, supposing it were to happen at the present 
 _ period, there have only been two hundred persons bu- 
 ried annually, reckoning one. year with another, the 
 - number of deaths would amount to nine hundred thou- 
 sand. If then a single city should yield so many at the 
 _ day of judgment, how many must the whole empire of 
 Germany produce? Computing the population» at 
 twenty-four millions, the city of Hamburgh could not 
 be estimated to contain more than the three thousandth 
 part of the inhabitants. 
 According to this calculation we may suppose that 
 | Germany will produce two thousand one hundred ‘mil- 
 ar This number is certainly predigious, and yet 
 what is it in comparison with what the whole earth con- 
 tains, which is reckoned to be at present a thousand 
 millions! 1f we fix it at this number and calculate it as 
 above, the total of those who have died, during the a- 
 bove-mentioned space, must amount to eighty-seven 
 _ thousand five hundred millions. If we afterwards add 
 to it those who lived before the flood, and those who 
 died after it, in the space of five hundred years, a num- 
 ber which may be reckoned at a quarter of the preced- 
 ing, we shajl then have a total of one hundred and nine 
 thousand three hundred and seventy-five millions—— 
 ' Lastly, let us add the number of people that may be a- 
 "live at the day of judgment, and only fix the number 
 as before at one thousand millions, and the whole will 
 amount to one hundred and ten thousand three hundred 
 and seventy-five millions ! 
 Let us figure to ourselves this prodigious multitude 
 which must appear before the Judge of the world. How 
 great must He be who can scrutinize the most secret 
 thoughts of each individual, of which such an infinite 
 , number is composed; who is intimately acquainted with 
 i Ff 2. 
 
 ‘% 
 
340 DECEMBER XXV. 
 
 all their thoughts, words, and deeds; who perfectly r 
 members the day of their birth, the duration of th 
 life, and the time, manner and circumstances of t 
 death; who will be able to distinguish the scattered a- 
 toms of each, and to collect them together: whethe 
 their bodies had been reduced to ashes, dissolved into — 
 
 DECEMBER XXV. 
 Thoughts on the Nativity of Christ. 4 
 
 Wuen I consider that this day is set apart for the cele- — 
 bration of Christ’s nativity, my soul expands with senti- _ 
 ments of holy joy and gratitude; but when I reflect on — 
 the circumstances which accompanied this great event, _ 
 I am completely overwhelmed with astonishment! I 
 behold a Son of man in the lowest state of humiliation; 
 and this Son of man is my God! I behold the mighty, 
 the invisible God, at whose word the heavens and 7 
 earth were made, and by whose command they shall k 
 destroyed: and I behold at the same time, a visi 
 being, weak, and clothed in flesh as lam! How wi : 
 derful is this union, the King of kings, whom angels a- 
 dore, appearing under the form of a servant! A child, — 
 weak, destitue, and shedding tears, lying in 2 manger! — 
 What astonishing humiliation! Human nature, so li- — 
 mited, so corrupted, raised by Jesus Christ to wri 
 nal throne of glory! What a miraculous change! But 
 can I well comprehend the greatness of this Divine 
 mercy? Or rather, do not the astonishment and admi- 
 ration with which it inspires me doubly increase, when — 
 I reflect on my own unworthiness, and the infinite ma- _ 
 jesty of my Redeemer? Certainly it was a love wine 
 infinitely surpasses all I can merit; a love beyond alll 
 could conceive or hope; a love which I have only si- — 
 lently to admire and adore. * 
 But if my sense of this goodness be great, my joy and — 
 hope are not less so. In this union of God and man, f 
 behold the joyful emblem of the new covenant. Faith-— 
 tul to his promises, God has sent his Son into the world, 
 that through him we may have eternal life; and have 
 
i 
 
 The Place of our Saviour’s Nativity. 3A 
 
 We not assurance, that all which was promised in his 
 name shall be accomplished with equal fidelity? Christ 
 would. never have honoured our nature so,as to unite it 
 with his own, had he not resolved to heal our infirmi- 
 ties, to pardon our sins, to wipe out our stains, and thus 
 
 _to restore our nature to its original purity and innocence, 
 | What then can be more just and natural than to give 
 ourselves up entirely, on this solemn day, to sentiments 
 of pious gratitude? It is true, we can never make a 
 return for the inestimable love of Ged our Saviour; but 
 let us exert ail our powers to evince the sincerity of our 
 gratitude, and the fervour of our affection. This tri- 
 bute, however unworthy in itself, will be well pleasing 
 in his sight. Such are the sentiments with which we. 
 ought to celebrate this solemn festival. Let not our 
 admiration be the fruit of ignorance, but of an enlight- 
 ened conviction; neither let our hope be the effect of 
 a blind persuasion. If it be the work of a pure faith, 
 what a sweet consolation, what heavenly joy, will fill 
 our hearts! it-will enable us to support every thing in 
 life, because it isa felicity which nothing can destroy. 
 
 DECEMBER XXVI. 
 The Place of our Saviour’s Nativity. 
 
 Ir seems at first sight to be of little consequence to 
 know the place of Christ’s nativity; for we should con- 
 sider him as our Redeemer, whatever might have been 
 the circumstances which attended his mortal life. But 
 since it pleased God to declare the place in which the 
 Saviour of the world should be bern, it became neces- 
 sary that it should happen precisely in the appointed 
 _ place, and that this should be one of the characteristics 
 by which Jesus Christ should be known to be the true 
 Messiah. 
 It is also of little importance to us in what place we: 
 _ ourselves live, provided we find true happiness. There 
 is no place upon the earth, however poor and despica-- 
 ble, that may not contain better and happier people 
 ' than some of the greatest and most celebrated cities. 
 ‘Do we know a single spot of our globe where the works: 
 of God do not exhibit themselves under a thousand 
 striking forms, and where a person might not experience » 
 the sweet satisfaction wees results from a well-spent: 
 2 fF 3 ; a 
 
 atta nal 
 
 — 
 
42 . DECEMBER XNXVI. 
 
 life? For each individual, the place preferable to al 
 others, is that in which he may enjoy the best state o 
 health, and do the most good. For a number of peo- 
 ple‘that place is best which contains the greatest num- 
 ber of wise and virtuous men; for every nation declines 
 in preportion as religion and virtue lose their influe 
 The place where a young man, for the first t 
 contemplated the morning dawn and the renewed b 
 ty of nature with the most lively sensations of pleas 
 Jove, and veneration ; the place where a virtuous 
 first became acquainted, or where two friends gave eac! 
 other the noblest and most affecting proofs of te 
 ness ; the village where any one may have seen or given 
 remarkable proofs of goodness, justice, and patience + 
 such a place must assuredly be dear to the heart. 
 According to this rule, Bethlehem, though small, was 
 a venerable place; since it contained a considerable 
 number of pious people, and many singular acts of piety — 
 had often been: performed in it. There the. patriarch 
 Jacob staid some time, in order to erect a. monum 
 for his beloved Rachel. It was at Bethlehem, that the — 
 worthy Naomi, and her modest daughter-in-law, Ruth, ~ 
 ave proofs of their faith and virtue. And it was there 
 aes that generous benefactor, lived and had his pos- 
 sessions. Bethlehem was the abode of the humb 
 Jesse, the happy father of so many sons, the young 
 of whom rose from the state of a shepherd to the throne 
 of Israel. ws 
 It was there David formed a resolution of building a 
 temple for the Lord; and showed himself the true shep-_ 
 herd and father of his people, when, at the sight of the ~ 
 destroying angel, whose sword spread terror and death — 
 around, he made intercession for the unhappy sufferers, — 
 At. Bethlehem was born the prince Zerubbabel, a de- 
 scendant of David, and the type of that Ruler and. 
 Shepherd under whose government Israel is one day to _ 
 assemble, in order to enjoy uninterrupted happiness — 
 Lastly, this city was honoured*by the appearance of the 
 Son of God, whose birth laid the foundation for our re- — 
 demption. Thus, in places too small to be remarkable, 
 men are sometimes born who afterwards become the — 
 benefactors of mankind. Even an inconsiderable vil- 
 jage often produces a man who, by his wisdom, upright-. 
 Hess, and heroism, becomes a blessing to whole king. 
 OMS. : 
 
God's Care of Men from thetr Birth. 343 
 
 It is our duty and privilege, whether our lot be cast 
 in cities or in villages, so-to live that the great end for 
 which our Saviour was born may be accomplished in 
 us. It is certain that true piety would make a rapid. 
 progress over the earth, if men every where endeavour- 
 ed to give proofs of innocent morals, and fervent faith. 
 If our cities furnished more examples of virtue, their 
 influence would extend to the country; and in the 
 smallest village there might be found families who, like. 
 that of Joseph and Mary, would distinguish themselves 
 by their uprightness and: piety, and would attract re- 
 spect even in the midst of poverty and humiliation.— 
 Then would God shed. blessings over the country of 
 these good people; and, after some generations, we 
 might hope to see a people formed, full.of the fear of 
 the Lord, and diligently walking in his ways. 
 
 He who-has travelled most over the world, who has 
 visited royal cities, and witnessed the various crimes 
 committed there, has abundant.cause when, at least, he 
 finds some town or village, where, in a peaceful cot, 
 surrounded with quiet neighbours, he may devote himself 
 to the service of God and humanity, and by these means 
 enjoy that sweet contentment which arises from tran- 
 quillity and peace of mind? He will not then regret 
 places, more magnificent indeed, but where Juxury 
 spreads many snares; more extensive,. but where vice 
 is triumphant; more rich, but where men live in a for- 
 getfulness of God and their duties. To al] these he will 
 prefer the obscure retreat. where, secure from bitter re- 
 morse, he may live tranquil and happy.. 
 
 DECEMBER XXVII.. 
 Care which God takes of Men from their Birth. 
 
 How numerous were ovr wants even at the moment of 
 our birth! It was with pain, and through the assistance 
 of others, that we were brought into the world, and we 
 should soon have lost the breath we had just begun to 
 respire, had not a variety of things relative to our cloth- 
 ing and nourishment been previously prepared; and had 
 we not found persons.who condescended to take care of 
 us in our weak and helpless state; or rather if our Hea- 
 venly Father himself had not watched over our preser- 
 vation. He took care of us whilst we were yet in the 
 
oe ¥ 
 
 DECEMBER XXVIT. 
 
 womb, when no human wisdom or industry could ha 
 assisted us. His divine hands fashioned, arranged, 
 connected all our members. He gave to every vein its _ 
 particular direction, and filled them all with the vi 
 fluid. He clothed us with flesh and skin; gaye us bones 
 and. sinews; and by diffusing through all these a rations 
 al and intelligent spirit, he formed a creature worthy 
 bearing his own divine image. i; 
 The same merciful Providence which watched o 
 us at the time of our birth has never abandoned us, but” 
 has constantly appeared on our behalf till the present — 
 period. It should also be recollected, that at the mo- — 
 ment of our entrance into life our God laid the founda- _ 
 tion of our future happiness. Weak and helpless of our-— 
 selves we neither did nor could know what our fate would. 
 be; but all was perfectly known to God. He saw the 4 
 whole of our lives; all the contingencies and future e- 
 ‘vents, with their consequences and connexions. Hee. 
 knew what would be best for us, and regulated our 4 
 accordingly; and, at the same time, determined on the _ 
 means he would employ to procure us the best of bless- — 
 ings. From our very birth, the causes existed which — 
 were to influence our future happiness, and they already _ 
 began to act conformably to his views. How much do 
 the happiness or misery of life depend on our parents, 
 their opinions and situation in life! How much ou 
 early education, the examples set before us, the con- 
 nexions we formed, and the opportunities which oceur= 
 red of exercising our power and talents, must influence — 
 the happiness of our lives! We have reason, therefore, 
 to bless our God that his wisdom and goodness ordered — 
 all these things, which have proved so advantageous to- 
 us. It was he who watched over our happiness, and who- 
 in his great goodness directed all events which might 
 prove favourable or unfavourable. He foresaw and ap- — 
 pointed every thing, and all his dispensations toward us” 
 were replete with wisdom and mercy. He knew what 
 adversities would be beneficial to us, and appointed their — 
 sources, their commencement, the exact time of their 
 termination, and the advantages we should derive from 
 them. These causes acted for some time in secret; but — 
 by degrees they were developed, and in many instances . 
 we have been compelled to acknowledge, that distresses 
 and sorrows were iecessary to our real happiness. But. 
 
 J 
 
 = 
 
Term of Human Life. 345 
 
 | they would not have had such salutary effects, without 
 | the concurrence of many causes which acted remotely 
 _ a long time before, and were unknown to us. 
 _ These reflections should inspire our minds with firm 
 and tranquil hope. What can be more comfortable, 
 _ than the conviction that an Invisible Being constantly 
 ' protects us? a Being infinitely good, wise, and power- 
 ful, who watched over us even in our mother’s womb; 
 who, from that moment, settled every thing necessary 
 for our future lives; who has reckoned our days, and 
 appointed a term for them, which no human power can 
 change; who has ordered all for our temporal and eter- 
 nal happiness? Surely the peace and confidence which 
 rest oa such a basis must be immoveable !- 
 
 DECEMBER XXVIII. 
 Term of Human Life. 
 
 Every man dies precisely at the time that God in his 
 infinite wisdom has appointed; and as the time of our 
 birth is fixed, s6 also is that of our death. But the term 
 of human life does not depend on inevitable fate. There 
 is no such thing in the world. Every thing that eccurs 
 _ might happen sooner or later, or even not at all. It 
 might always be possible, that the man who died to-day 
 _ might have died sooner, or lived longer. God has not 
 fixed the days of man by an absolute and arbitrary de- 
 cree, or without respect to circumstances. He isan in- 
 finitely wise being, who does nothing without motives 
 worthy of himself. He must, therefore, have had just 
 reasons for decreeing that such a person should quit the 
 world at one time rather than at another. But though 
 the term of life be neither from necessity nor fatality, 
 it is not the less certain, and is never in reality changed. 
 When a man dies, there are always causes which in- 
 
 - fallibly bring on his death, unless prevented by a supe- 
 rior power. One person dies of a mortal disease, ano- 
 ther by a sudden and unforeseen accident. Some perish 
 
 by fire, others by water. God foresees all these causes. 
 
 _ He is not an idle, indifferent-spectator of them. He 
 _ examines all with care; he compares them with his de- 
 signs, and sees whether he approves them or not. What 
 he approves, he determines accordingly; and there ex- 
 - ists a divine decree, by virtue of which the man dies at 
 
346 - DECEMBER Xxvitt. 
 such a time, or by such an accident. This decree 
 
 Cd - 
 
 - not be revoked nor prevented, because the same reason 
 
 - which God has at present for taking a man out of fi 
 world was known to him from all eternity: he jud 
 of it then as he does now; and of course nothing ¢ 
 induce him to alter his purpose. a 
 
 But it is possible that God might not approve the 
 causes of a man’s death when he foresaw them. In this 
 case, he determined at least to permit them, But if 
 God resolves to permit those causes of death, it is his 
 will that we should die at the time in which the ea 
 existed. Itis possible that he might have been inclined 
 to grant an individual a longer period, and did not ap 
 prove the causes of his death ; but it was not consis 
 with his wisdom to oppose them. He sees the unive 
 in the whole, and finds reasons which engage him 
 permit men to die at such a time, although he nei 
 approves the causes, manner, nor circumstances of th 
 death. His wisdom finds means to direct these de; 
 to useful purposes; or else he foresees, that longer liy 
 under their circumstances, could neither be beneficia 
 to themselves, nor to the world; or possibly he fir 
 that in order to prevent these deaths, it would reg 
 a new combination of things, such as would not. 
 with the general plan of the universe. Ina word, tho 
 God sometimes disapproves the causes of a man’s de 
 he has always just and wise reasons for permitting t 
 and for decreeing, consequently, that the man s 
 die at such a time, and in such a manner. 
 
 These considerations should teach us to contemp 
 death with Christian fortitude and tranquillity. 
 principally renders it so terrible, is the uncertainty o! 
 its approach, and the manner in which it may seize 
 If we knew beforehand when and how we should 
 we might probably await the awful hour with some d 
 gree of resolution. Now, nothing can more effectually 
 encourage and calm our minds in this respect, than the 
 persuasion that Divine Providence watches over us, who, 
 from the foundation of the world, decreed, with infin 
 wisdom and goodness, the time, manner, and every cir- a 
 cumstance, of our death. The term of our lives is: 
 pointed, and no man can die sooner or later than God 
 has decreed, for the good even of the person himself. 
 Persuaded of this comfortable truth, we may calmly ex- 
 
Instability of Earthly Things. 347 
 
 pect the hour of death; and since it is uncertain, let us 
 
 be prudently prepared to meet it at any time.. Most 
 
 certainly it will not come till God thinks proper. We 
 are ignorant, indeed, of what kind of death it may be ; 
 but it is sufficient to know, that we can only die in the 
 way that the Merciful Ruler of the world judges best 
 for us, and for those belonging to us. Supported by 
 this thought, let us continue our earthly pilgrimage 
 without anxiety ; let us cheerfully submit to the dispen- 
 sations of Providence, and never fear any dangers to 
 which the performance of our duty may expose us. 
 
 DECEMBER XXIX. 
 Instability of Earthly Things. 
 
 TueERE is nothing in nature that is not liable to change. 
 Nothing is so durable as always to retain its present ap- 
 pearance. Every thing is uncertain and frail. The 
 most solid bodies are not so impenetrable, nor their 
 parts so closely united, as to preserve them from disso- 
 lution. Each particle of matter insensibly changes its 
 
 _ form. How many changes have our bodies undergone 
 
 since their formation in the womb! We annually lose 
 some of our constituent parts, and again acquire new 
 ones, from the dnimal, vegetable, or mineral kingdom. 
 Every thing on earth alternately increases and decrea- 
 ses; but with this difference, that the changes do not 
 operate so quickly in some bodies as in others. 
 
 The celestial globes appear to be still the same as at 
 the moment of their creation; and they are, perhaps, 
 the most invariable of all bodies. Accurate observers, 
 
 _ however, perceive that some stars have disappeared, 
 
 and that the sun has spots which change, and thus they 
 prove that even that luminary is not constantly the same. 
 Its motion also makes it liable to variation; and though 
 it is never extinguished, it has been often obscured by 
 fogs, clouds, and, perhaps, by internal revolutions. This 
 is all we can know of it at such an immeasurable distance: 
 but were we nearer we might probably discover many 
 more external and internal changes. If we are more 
 forcibly struck with the instability of earthly things, it 
 is because they are within our view. And how frail are 
 these! how liable to change! Each abject continues to 
 look like itself, and yet how different is it in reality from - 
 
ae eS 
 348 BECEMBER XXX. 
 
 what it originally was! We daily behold things assuming 
 new forms; some growing, while others are diminishing 
 and perishing. ie 
 
 This year, which in two days will be at an end, af- 
 fords undeniable proofs of these assertions. Each per- 
 son, in his own little circle, must have experienced ma- 
 ny vicissitudes. Several of those whom we have known 
 for many years are no more. Many whom we have seen 
 in affluence are become poor, or at least are but in an 
 indifferent situation. If we examine ourselves also, we 
 shall find a difference in many respects. Are not our 
 health and activity diminished? And_are not all these 
 things warnings of approaching towards that great and 
 final revolution which death will occasion? Besides, 
 many changes may still happen in the two remaining 
 days of this year. We may become poor or sick; we 
 may experience the infidelity of friends, or even die, in 
 that space of time. 
 
 Such reflections must inevitably oppress and sink us 
 to despair, if religion were not our support and conso- 
 lation. But this leads us to the only invariable, and e- 
 ternal Being, whose very nature is immutable, and whose 
 mercy has no end. Full of confidence, therefore, in his 
 unchangeable goodness, let us submit with resignation — 
 to all the changes of this transitory world. 
 
 DECEMBER XXX. 
 Retrospect of past Time. 
 
 THE approaching close of the year leads to reflections 
 which, however important in themselves, do not always 
 excite the attention. In order to feel more sensibly 
 how short the course of life is, I will now examine the 
 use I have made of the past days; though I have reason — 
 to believe it will prove a subject of humiliation. 
 
 I first recall to myself those days it was not in my 
 power to command. How much of this year has been 
 passed in eating, drinking, and sleeping; in caring for 
 the body, and providing for its various necessities! How 
 much time has been spent in useless occupations, or, at 
 least, in such as were of no benefit to our souls! And 
 how many hours have rolled away in uncertainty and 
 inaction, in perplexity and anxious expectation! Thus — 
 when I even slightly review the days of this year, I find 
 
Hymn of Praise at the Close of the Year. 349 
 
 that a vast number have been unproductive of any in- 
 tellectual good, and that very few remain which have 
 been employed for the purpose of real life. Out of three 
 hundred and sixty-five days, there are scarcely fifty of 
 which | can say, ‘* These are my own,” as having con- 
 duced to my eternal happiness.. And even of these few 
 remaining days, how many hours have been lost by my 
 folly or frailty! How much time has been sacrificed to 
 vice, and sullied by sin! How humiliating is the thought, 
 how well adapted to cover a sinner with confusion! - 
 
 Perhaps many of those days granted me for reflection 
 have been devoted to the world, to vanity, to idleness; 
 and false pleasures. Perhaps they may have been pro- 
 faned by impurity, envy,. jealousy, slander, and other 
 vices, which betray a heart void-of respect for God, and 
 charity to mankind. Even since God has inspired me 
 with a desire to walk in his paths, how much time has 
 been irrecoverably Jost in thoughtlessness, indifference, 
 doubts, anxiety, want of temper, and all those infirmi- 
 ties which are the effects of frailty, and the weakness of 
 human reason! Lastly, how swiftly does the little space 
 of time we can dispose of fly away! A year passes al- 
 most insensibly, and yet it is of prodigious cgnsequence 
 to a being whose life is reckoned by hours. When we 
 recollect how little of it we have spent suitably to the 
 purposes of our creation, we wish to recall those hours 
 which have been so ill employed. But this desire is 
 fruitless. The year, with the good and bad actions 
 which have marked it, is swallowed up in eternity. - 
 
 O merciful Father! forgive us the faults we have had 
 the misfortune to commit;, and grant us thy mercy in 
 the hour of death, at the day of judgment,-and through. 
 all eternity. ; 
 
 DECEMBER XXXI. 
 Hymn of Praise at the Close of the Year. 
 
 InFiniTE Jehovah! thou art the God of time and of e=- 
 
 ternity. Deign to attune my tongue, and listen to my 
 
 feeble accents, while I sing a joyous hymn to celebrate 
 
 thy holy name. A year is completing its appointed re- 
 
 volution ; and to thy grace and paternal love I am in- 
 
 ‘debted for the continuation of my existence! : 
 Being of beings, receive the homage of my soul! Thy: 
 VOL. Il, ° Gg 
 
_— v 
 
 350 _ . DECEMBER XXX. 
 
 nature is immutable; for thou hast been, thou art, and 
 thou shalt be, through the countless ages of eternity ! 
 Thy faithfulness endures from generation to generation, 
 and every morning brings a renewal of thy tender mer- — 
 cies! 
 Thou hast led me, by thy paternal hand, through thie 
 year which is now ending: when my heart was lacerated 
 by anxiety and distress, thy merciful interference afford- 
 ed me relief and consolation. 1 will praise thee, O God! — 
 I will exalt thee with all my powers of soul and tongue ;__ 
 and again commit myself to thy unerring guidance, and_ 
 unfailing support. meets 
 
 Vouchsafe, O God, to pardon the innumerable offen- 
 ces which I have committed against thy divine majesty — 
 in the days that are past. And, for the sake of thy dear 
 Son, let me again experience thy ‘fatherly support.—_ 
 Teach me to do thy will, and enable me to please thee 
 as long as | live! 
 
 Inspire my soul with new zeal, and grant me a reno-_ 
 vation of strength, that I may walk before thee in the © 
 paths of righteousness. Quicken and sanctify my heart — 
 by thy blessed Spirit, ‘that, being detached from the 
 world, and inflamed with holy love, it may ever be u- 
 nited unto thee, O thou source of endless felicity! 
 
 The world passes away, and ‘its enjoyments are con- 
 stantly and rapidly dispersing : it is not in these, there- 
 fore, that I must seek for happiness. Even in this sub-— 
 junary state, I.may aspire to nobler joysy I am related 
 to angels, and heaven is my patrimony. Grant, O God, 
 that | may incessantly aspire after it! v 
 
 Teach me, in future, O Lord, to redeem my time, at 
 to walk with holy circumspection in the narrow path | 
 that leads to eternity! Mercifully deign to alleviate the” 
 burthen of life, till I attain the happy period in which 
 all my labours shall cease, and my repose shall be inter= | 
 rupted no more! * 
 
 PINIS- 
 
 Pe 
 ’ RB. Tallis, printer, Cupar. 
 
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