IT is a thing observable through every province of nature—a principle to which every science lends its authority-that the power of God, infinite in its development, is infinitely economized in its operation; a principle to be traced in every manifestation of force in inanimate matter, and under every form of independent motion. All that we call design in natural things has in some way a direction to it. The very weed under our feet shows it in the form of its stalk; and the tree of the forest shapes out its trunk, moulds its branches, and tapers the very stems and fibres of its leaves, in obedience to it. That economy of creative power which thus manifests itself in the works of God, infinitely perfect in its degree, has its remote but visible type in the imperfect husbandry of our efforts, which impels us to use the simplest possible means of effecting that which we have to do, and which is implied in what we call the best means of doing it. In us this economy has for its object the preservation of our living powers; and for its immediate origin, a sense of lassitude and fatigue, for that end specially implanted in every living thing. In Him by whom this sense was laid upon us as a law, but whose own arm is "not straitened," and who "fainteth not, neither is weary" (Is. xl. 28), that which in us He has made a necessity of nature, is but a principle of wisdom in operation.

Let us now seek if there be any evidence by which it is given to us to perceive the operation of this principle in the architecture of the heavens. Let us listen if, in the stillness of the universe, there be not a voice re-echoed from worlds which, "without speech or language," traverse its unfathomable regions, and stars which silently repose in its depths, the voice of revelation, "by his wisdom hath he made the heavens, and stretched them out by his understanding."

It is a high privilege thus to be able to commune with God in his works, to feel (as it were with a sense of the understanding) his wisdom guiding the hand of his power. It is to enjoy here a knowledge of which, little though it be, that of heaven, as far as it includes the mysteries of creation, cannot but be a continuation; to hold here a few links of a chain which proceeds from the throne of God. And although now it is to the silent monuments of nature that the researches of science are limited, and in respect to these, although now we see but as "through a lass darkly," yet is there a spirit of devotion which, regarding

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these things as beginnings, with a faith almost invigorated into knowledge, anticipates, walking in this twilight, the daylight of heaven, when we shall see "face to face," and "know even as we are known;" a time when to the soul now released from the corruptible body, in some degree (however slightly) schooled by the instruction of faith and knowledge, and no longer straitened by the imperfections of sense, the works of Grace, the works of Providence, and the works of Nature, shall present, under one vast but simple and united scheme, the equal evidence of God's mercy, his wisdom, and his power.-MOSELEY's' Astro-Theology.'

THE WORKS OF CREATION.

THE spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,

And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great original proclaim.

The unwearied sun, from day to day,
Does his Creator's power display:
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty hand.

Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale;
And, nightly, to the listening earth,
Repeats the story of her birth.

While all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What though in solemn silence all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball?
What though no real voice, nor sound,
Amidst their radiant orbs be found?

In Reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice;
For ever singing, as they shine,
"The hand that made us is divine."

ADDISON.

SIMONIDES being asked by Dionysius the Tyrant' what God was, desired a day's time to consider of it before he made his reply. When the day was expired he desired two days; and afterwards, instead of returning his answer, demanded still double the time to consider of it. This great poet and philosopher, the more he contemplated the nature of the Deity, found that he waded but the more out of his depth, and that he lost himself in the thought, instead of finding an end to it.

If we consider the idea which wise men, by the light of reason, have framed of the Divine Being, it amounts to this: that he has in him all the perfection of a spiritual nature. And since we have no notion of any kind of spiritual perfection but what we discover in our own souls, we join infinitude to each kind of these perfections, and what is a faculty in a human soul becomes an attribute in God. We exist in place and time; the Divine Being fills the immensity of space with his presence, and inhabits eternity. We are possessed of a little power and a little knowledge. The Divine Being is almighty and omniscient. In short, by adding infinity to any kind of perfection we enjoy, and by joining all these different kinds of perfection in one being, we form our idea of the great Sovereign of Nature.

Though every one who thinks must have made this observation, I shall produce Mr. Locke's authority to the same purpose, out of his essay on 'Human Understanding :-" If we examine the idea we have of the incomprehensible Supreme Being, we shall find that we come by it the same way, and that the complex ideas we have, both of God and separate spirits, are made up of the simple ideas we receive from reflection, e. g. having, from what we experience in ourselves, got the ideas of existence and duration, of knowledge and power, of pleasure and happiness, and of several other qualities and powers, which it is better to have than to be without. When we would frame an idea the most suitable we can to the Supreme Being, we enlarge every one of these with our own idea of infinity, and so, putting them together, make our complex idea of God."

It is not impossible that there may be many kinds of spiritual perfection besides those which are lodged in a human soul; but it is impossible that we should have ideas of any kinds of perfection

except those of which we have some small rays and short imperfect strokes in ourselves. It would, therefore, be a very high presumption to determine whether the Supreme Being has not many more attributes than those which enter into our conceptions of him. This is certain, that if there be any kind of spiritual perfection which is not marked out in the human soul, it belongs in its fulness to the Divine nature.

Several eminent philosophers have imagined that the soul, in her separate state, may have new faculties springing up in her, which she is not capable of exerting during her present union with the body; and whether these faculties may not correspond with other attributes in the Divine nature, and open to us hereafter new matter of wonder and adoration, we are altogether ignorant. This, as I have said before, we ought to acquiesce in, that the Sovereign Being, the great Author of Nature, has in him all possible perfections, as well in kind as in degree. To speak according to our methods of conceiving, I shall only add under this head, that when we have raised our notion of this infinite Being as high as it is possible for the mind of man to go, it will fall infinitely short of what he really is. "There is no end of his greatness." The most exalted creature he has made is only capable of adoring it; none but himself can comprehend it.

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The advice of the son of Sirach is very just and sublime in this light. By his word all things consist. We may speak much, and yet come short: wherefore in sum he is all. How shall we be able to magnify him? for he is great above all his works. The Lord is terrible and very great, and marvellous is his power. When you glorify the Lord, exalt him as much as you can: for even yet will he far exceed. And when you exalt him, put forth all your strength, and be not weary, for you can never go far enough. Who hath seen him, that he might tell us? and who can magnify him as he is? There are yet hid greater things than these be, for we have seen but a few of his works."

But

I have here only considered the Supreme Being by the light of reason and philosophy. If we would see him in all the wonders of his mercy, we must have recourse to revelation, which represents him to us, not only as infinitely great and glorious, but as infinitely good and just in his dispensations towards man. as this is a theory which falls under every one's consideration, though, indeed, it can never be sufficiently considered, I shall here only take notice of that habitual worship and veneration which we ought to pay to this Almighty Being. We should often refresh our minds with the thought of him, and annihilate ourselves before him, in the contemplation of our own worthlessness and of his transcendent excellency and perfection.

This

would imprint in our minds such a constant and uninterrupted awe and veneration as that which I am here recommending, and which is in reality a kind of incessant prayer, and reasonable humiliation of the soul before him who made it.

This would effectually kill in us all the little seeds of pride, vanity, and self-conceit, which are apt to shoot up in the minds of such whose thoughts turn more on those comparative advantages which they enjoy over some of their fellow-creatures, than on that infinite distance which is placed between them and the supreme model of all perfection. It would likewise quicken our desires and endeavours of uniting ourselves to him by all the acts of religion and virtue.

Such an habitual homage to the Supreme Being would, in a particular manner, banish from among us that prevailing impiety of using his name on the most trivial occasions.

I find the following passage in an excellent sermon, preached at the funeral of a gentleman, who was an honour to his country, and a more diligent as well as successful inquirer into the works of nature than any other nation has ever produced. "He had the profoundest veneration for the great God of heaven and earth that I have ever observed in any person. The very name of God was never mentioned by him without a pause and a visible stop in his discourse, in which one that knew him most particularly above twenty years, has told me that he was so exact, that he does not remember to have observed him once to fail in it."

Every one knows the veneration which was paid by the Jews to a name so great, wonderful, and holy. They would not let it enter even into their religious discourses. What can we then think of those who make use of so tremendous a name in the ordinary expressions of their anger, mirth, and most impertinent passions? of those who admit it into the most familiar questions and assertions, ludicrous phrases, and works of humour? not to mention those who violate it by solemn perjuries? It would be an affront to reason to endeavour to set forth the horror and profaneness of such a practice. The very mention of it exposes it sufficiently to those in whom the light of nature, not to say religion, is not utterly extinguished.-ADDISON.

1. It was not by Dionysius but by Hiero that this famous question was put to Simonides.

2. Addison refers to Bishop Burnet's Sermon, preached at the funeral of the Hon. Robert Boyle.

3. JEHOVAH is the name by which the Deity is represented in the Hebrew Scrip

tures; in which language it signifies the Self-existent, the I am. The word itself was held in peculiar veneration by the Jews, who never allowed themselves to pronounce it in the reading of their sacred books, but substituted for it the term Adonar, Lord, wherever it occurred.