The strictest harmony and order pervade nature in all her works. She
is governed by laws and regulations which the nicest art may attempt
in vain to imitate. If we contemplate the azure sky, with all its
glittering host of golden stars, and watch them as they run their
nightly course through the boundless fields of ether, we shall readily
perceive they are led by a systematic hand.
The sun, as he unlocks the rosy gates of the east, and comes forth to
run his glad journey across the sky, diffusing light and warmth upon
the vegetable world beneath, moves with the utmost regularity, giving
to each succeeding year, "the seasons and their changes."
The gentle moon, as she sheds her borrowed light from the blue
chambers of the sky, throwing her silver mantle overnight's sable
form, performs her varied evolutions without "variableness or shadow
of turning." Every planet and every star has its fixed place assigned
it, and even the fiery comet has its appointed orbit, and the man of
science can tell the exact time of its appearance, and the course it
will run, and now it is accounted for by the laws of nature, rather
than regarded as a fearful herald of war or devastation; and even the
meteor flash, that glares for a moment and then disappears forever, is
awakened into action by the density of the atmosphere, and regulated
by the same common laws.
The portentous thunder clouds that emit the vivid lightning's flash,
and the deep-toned thunder reverberating through the sky, speak of
the sublimity of their Author, and perform their destined missions of
purifying the air and increasing the health of man.
The sea, the deep blue sea, too, has its bounds that it cannot pass.
Its tides may ebb and flow, its bounding waves make music on their
winding shore, or heave in their giant strength, and dash their foam
and spray before the raging tempest, but they are curbed by that
Eternal fiat, which says, "So far shalt thou go and no farther," or
hushed by the same voice saying, "Peace, be still!"
Rivers run in their destined courses, and pay constant tribute to
old ocean, and even the sparkling brook that bubbles over its pebbly
bottom, dances not in vain, for the grass upon its margin assumes a
deeper green and marks the threading of its silver current.
The gentle dew that distils upon the tender herbage in the deep
silence of midnight, of the mist that rises from the bosom of
the earth, are not without design. The mountain rising in its
magnificence, the gently sloping hill and verdant vale, are so
arranged as to fill the mind of the beholder with satisfaction, while
the eye gazes upon the perfect harmony that pervades great nature's
works.
Every thing that is beautiful, every thing that is sublime, is
depicted in the order and perfection of the natural world, where each
has its appropriate sphere and fulfils its appropriate destiny.
This is a theme upon which the most powerful mind may expand itself,
stretching from thought to thought, and from object to object, without
grasping half the amazing whole. When we contemplate the forest
standing in silent grandeur, the tree, the shrub, the flower in all
its beautiful varieties, the rock, the precipice, the foaming cataract
that has thundered on for ages with the same deafening roar, and all
the ten thousand varied objects of inanimate creation, and observe
the nice regulations in which they are placed, we can but remark with
reverential awe, "In wisdom hast thou made them all."
If we find beauty thus depicted in the inanimate, how much greater
will be our admiration in the contemplation of animate creation? If
we descend into the depths of the ocean we shall find it teeming with
life, from the sponge that clings to the rock, to the mighty leviathan
that sports amid the bounding billows.
Or search we the air, we find it peopled with myriads of floating
insects, on silken wings, each moving in its own little sphere, and
then passing away. The spotted butterfly, that flits through the air,
on fairy wing, or rests its downy pinions on the bosom of the fragrant
rose; the bird that carols on the spray, or warbles sweetly through
the air; the mountain bee, that comes humming round the summer
flower, sipping its store of sweets, and even the drowsy hum of the
summer-fly, as it floats in mazy circles, are all connecting links in
nature's chain.
But where shall we stop? the spider, the cricket, the beetle, the
glow-worm, with his feeble lamp, the firefly that flies twinkling
through the air all the "midsummer night," and every beast that roams
the field, whether wild or tame, all--all have their proper sphere,
and are in proper order.
But we have still to contemplate the most beautiful piece of
mechanism, of nature's plastic hand, in the formation of man, for
whose convenience and use, all things else seem created. A careless
observer looks upon man, and sees in the general outline a beautiful
piece of mechanism, moving in grace and dignity, and standing in an
exalted position upon the earth. He, too, has his place assigned him,
by the order of nature, and moves in the highest sphere of earthly
being. By the useful and interesting study of physiology, we are
enabled to define the construction of his system, to delineate the
muscles, nerves, veins and fibres, and the complicated mass that forms
the man, with all their separate dependencies upon each other. But
the mind, the great moving spring of action that gives motion to the
whole, who can analyze or delineate? That will live forever, when the
stillness of death rests upon the pulses. That is the great connecting
link between time and eternity, and doomed, by the order of nature,
to live forever, and the boundless ages of eternity alone can fully
develop its faculties, or define its station.
And too, there is another upon earth, whose presence is often felt,
but is never seen. The pale horse and his rider leave unmistakable
evidences of their sojourn with the generations of men, They pass on,
breathing upon them a chilling breath, and they are seen no more. They
go forth, conquering and to conquer, and the king, and the beggar,
fall alike, before their ruthless sway.
But, there is yet the great unchanging God, for whose honor and glory
all things are and were created, who "spake and it was done," and who
has taught us by revelation, that the heavens shall be rolled together
as a scroll, and the spirit alone remain of man.
is governed by laws and regulations which the nicest art may attempt
in vain to imitate. If we contemplate the azure sky, with all its
glittering host of golden stars, and watch them as they run their
nightly course through the boundless fields of ether, we shall readily
perceive they are led by a systematic hand.
The sun, as he unlocks the rosy gates of the east, and comes forth to
run his glad journey across the sky, diffusing light and warmth upon
the vegetable world beneath, moves with the utmost regularity, giving
to each succeeding year, "the seasons and their changes."
The gentle moon, as she sheds her borrowed light from the blue
chambers of the sky, throwing her silver mantle overnight's sable
form, performs her varied evolutions without "variableness or shadow
of turning." Every planet and every star has its fixed place assigned
it, and even the fiery comet has its appointed orbit, and the man of
science can tell the exact time of its appearance, and the course it
will run, and now it is accounted for by the laws of nature, rather
than regarded as a fearful herald of war or devastation; and even the
meteor flash, that glares for a moment and then disappears forever, is
awakened into action by the density of the atmosphere, and regulated
by the same common laws.
The portentous thunder clouds that emit the vivid lightning's flash,
and the deep-toned thunder reverberating through the sky, speak of
the sublimity of their Author, and perform their destined missions of
purifying the air and increasing the health of man.
The sea, the deep blue sea, too, has its bounds that it cannot pass.
Its tides may ebb and flow, its bounding waves make music on their
winding shore, or heave in their giant strength, and dash their foam
and spray before the raging tempest, but they are curbed by that
Eternal fiat, which says, "So far shalt thou go and no farther," or
hushed by the same voice saying, "Peace, be still!"
Rivers run in their destined courses, and pay constant tribute to
old ocean, and even the sparkling brook that bubbles over its pebbly
bottom, dances not in vain, for the grass upon its margin assumes a
deeper green and marks the threading of its silver current.
The gentle dew that distils upon the tender herbage in the deep
silence of midnight, of the mist that rises from the bosom of
the earth, are not without design. The mountain rising in its
magnificence, the gently sloping hill and verdant vale, are so
arranged as to fill the mind of the beholder with satisfaction, while
the eye gazes upon the perfect harmony that pervades great nature's
works.
Every thing that is beautiful, every thing that is sublime, is
depicted in the order and perfection of the natural world, where each
has its appropriate sphere and fulfils its appropriate destiny.
This is a theme upon which the most powerful mind may expand itself,
stretching from thought to thought, and from object to object, without
grasping half the amazing whole. When we contemplate the forest
standing in silent grandeur, the tree, the shrub, the flower in all
its beautiful varieties, the rock, the precipice, the foaming cataract
that has thundered on for ages with the same deafening roar, and all
the ten thousand varied objects of inanimate creation, and observe
the nice regulations in which they are placed, we can but remark with
reverential awe, "In wisdom hast thou made them all."
If we find beauty thus depicted in the inanimate, how much greater
will be our admiration in the contemplation of animate creation? If
we descend into the depths of the ocean we shall find it teeming with
life, from the sponge that clings to the rock, to the mighty leviathan
that sports amid the bounding billows.
Or search we the air, we find it peopled with myriads of floating
insects, on silken wings, each moving in its own little sphere, and
then passing away. The spotted butterfly, that flits through the air,
on fairy wing, or rests its downy pinions on the bosom of the fragrant
rose; the bird that carols on the spray, or warbles sweetly through
the air; the mountain bee, that comes humming round the summer
flower, sipping its store of sweets, and even the drowsy hum of the
summer-fly, as it floats in mazy circles, are all connecting links in
nature's chain.
But where shall we stop? the spider, the cricket, the beetle, the
glow-worm, with his feeble lamp, the firefly that flies twinkling
through the air all the "midsummer night," and every beast that roams
the field, whether wild or tame, all--all have their proper sphere,
and are in proper order.
But we have still to contemplate the most beautiful piece of
mechanism, of nature's plastic hand, in the formation of man, for
whose convenience and use, all things else seem created. A careless
observer looks upon man, and sees in the general outline a beautiful
piece of mechanism, moving in grace and dignity, and standing in an
exalted position upon the earth. He, too, has his place assigned him,
by the order of nature, and moves in the highest sphere of earthly
being. By the useful and interesting study of physiology, we are
enabled to define the construction of his system, to delineate the
muscles, nerves, veins and fibres, and the complicated mass that forms
the man, with all their separate dependencies upon each other. But
the mind, the great moving spring of action that gives motion to the
whole, who can analyze or delineate? That will live forever, when the
stillness of death rests upon the pulses. That is the great connecting
link between time and eternity, and doomed, by the order of nature,
to live forever, and the boundless ages of eternity alone can fully
develop its faculties, or define its station.
And too, there is another upon earth, whose presence is often felt,
but is never seen. The pale horse and his rider leave unmistakable
evidences of their sojourn with the generations of men, They pass on,
breathing upon them a chilling breath, and they are seen no more. They
go forth, conquering and to conquer, and the king, and the beggar,
fall alike, before their ruthless sway.
But, there is yet the great unchanging God, for whose honor and glory
all things are and were created, who "spake and it was done," and who
has taught us by revelation, that the heavens shall be rolled together
as a scroll, and the spirit alone remain of man.