CONTEMPLATION XI.

ON

A FLOWER

GROWING IN A FIELD.

PAS

ASSING by a flowery garden, and looking over the wall, I beheld among the flowers fome of the footsteps of the renowned, pious, and justly celebrated Mr James Hervey.

Therefore, left I fhould rather draw a veil over the beauties he had exhibited than unfold any more of their charms, I

did not dare to enter; but shall now content myself with contemplating this flower of the field, which here grows in all the fimplicity of nature, difplaying an elegance of taste, and beauty of form far furpaffing the touch of the skilfullest pencil on earth! all the works of nature which we behold, whether in the heavens above, or on the earth beneath, fhew to the eye of penetration, what they proclaim aloud in the ear of reafon, namely, the hand that made them is divine: "For the invisible

things of him from the creation of the "world, are clearly feen, being under"stood by the things that are made, even "his eternal power and godhead," Rom. i. 20.

of

This every one may read in the page nature, and I at prefent fee it manifefted in the texture, growth, and foliage of this charm of the field.

How exquifitely beautiful and various are its colours! Could mortal man have tinged it fo, or diftributed them in fuch just proportion? Where are now the painters of Greece, and thofe well skilled

in eastern dyes? This flower looks them all out of countenance. When compa

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red with its beauties at hand, their finest dyes and paintings are not only coarse, but ugly in the extreme; Solomon in all "his glory was not arrayed like one of thefe," Matt. vi. 29.

Whence then hath it that delicacy of fhape, comelinefs of form, odoriferous smell, beauty and variety of colour? Is it from chance, that deity only in name? No, furely; for then chance might as often make and rear up this flower mishapen, ugly, and confused in its dyes, as beautiful and orderly, which is never once the cafe that plainly fhews it to be made and reared by fome unerring hand, who never once miffeth the least tinge, or maketh the least irregularity in form or foliage.

Is it nature, then? No, but the God of nature, whose infinite power, wisdom, purity and goodness is confpicuous, even in this little charm of the field: for what but infinite power, and confummate wisdom, could have made this beautiful plant out

of a mass of earth, and that itself out of nothing; tinged it with fuch delightful colours, and adjusted their proportion fo nicely. The beauty and innocence of it, together with its fragrancy, tend to calm the ruffled paffions of its beholders when gazing upon it; while it raises a pleasing fenfation through all the foul, which fheweth that the Creator of this lovely flower, is certainly pure, holy, and lovely himfelf. And when I confider that this delightful plant was created for the pleasure of man, yes, for man alone, for the beafts of the field, and fowls of the air seem to derive no good or delight from it; it leads me to contemplate the goodness of God, who indulgeth his creature man with the innocent pleasures of life. How ungrateful then must he be, to take pleafure in those things which are offenfive to fuch a kind Creator? But as his infinite power, wisdom, purity and goodness, shine forth in the making and rearing of this plant, infinitely more fo do they shine forth with refplendant luftre, in raising up for man a plant of renown, Ezek. xxxiv. 29. even the Lord Jefus Chrift, the Mediator between God and man, who is the

Rofe of Sharon, and Lily of the vallies, Cant. ii. I. whofe name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the virgins love him, Cant. i. 3. and well may believers love him who loved them, and hath given himself for them an offering and a facrifice to God for a sweet smelling favour, Eph. v. 2. in him mercy and truth are met together, righteoufnefs and peace have kiffed each other, Pfal. lxxxv. 10. the juftice of God fatisfied, and the mercy of God glorified: And for ever bleffed be his name, that he is not compared to a flower in the garden, where few have liberty to come, but to the rose of Sharon, and lily of the vallies, to which all have free accefs who will.

This flower here, growing in obfcurity, fcatters its odours around, and difplays its charms in vain with refpect to human beholders: it fprings up, blows, flourishes, decays and dies in this waste, without perhaps ever being feen or admired by any, unless it be fome tranfient wanderer: which brings to my recollection thofe beautiful lines of the celebrated Mr Gray ;

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