clouded with azure; some clad with a whitish trans parent skin, which shews the tempting kernels lodged in luscious nectar. The vine requires a strong reflec tion of the sun-beams, and a very large proportion of warmth. How commodiously do the hills and mountains minister to this purpose! May we not call those vast declivities the garden walls of nature, which, far more effectually than the most costly glasses, or most artful green-houses, concentre the solar heat, and complete the maturity of the grape; distending it with a liquor of the finest scent, the most agreeable relish, and the most exalted qualities; such as dissipate sadness, and inspire vivacity; such as make glad the heart of man, and most sweetly prompt both his gratitude and his duty to the munificent Giver. I grieve, and I blush for my fellow-creatures, that any should abuse this indulgence of heaven; that any should turn so valuable. a gift of God into an instrument of sin; turn the most exhilarating of cordials into poison, madness, and death. The kitchen-garden presents us with a new train of benefits. In its blooming ornaments, what unaffected beauty! In its culinary productions, what diversified riches! It ripens a multitude of nutrimental esculents, and almost an equal abundance of medicinal herbs; distributing refreshments to the healthy, and administering remedies to the sick. The orchard, all fair and ruddy, and bowing down beneath its own delicious burden, gives us a fresh demonstration of our Creator's kindness; regales us first with all the delicacies of summer fruits, next with the more lasting succession of autumnal dainties. What is nature but a series of wonders, and a fund of delights, that such a variety of fruits, so beautifully coloured, so elegantly shaped, and so charmingly flavoured, should arise from the earth, than which nothing is more insipid, sordid, and despicable. I am struck with pleasing astonishment at the cause of these fine effects, and no less surprised at the manner of bringing them into existence. I take a walk in my garden, or a turn through my orchard, in the month of December: there stand several logs of wood fastened to the ground; they are erect indeed and shapely, but without either sense or motion; no human hand will touch them, no human aid will succour them; yet, in a little time, they are beautified with blossoms, they are covered with leaves, and at last are loaded with mellow treasures; with the downy peach and the polished plum; with the musky apricot and the juicy pear; with the cherry and its coral pendants, glowing through lattices of green; and dark Beneath her ample leaf, the luscious fig. I have wondered at the structure of my watch, won. dered more at the description of the silk-mills; most of all, at the account of those prodigious engines invented by Archimedes: but what are all the inventions of all the geometricians and mechanics in the world, compared with these inconceivably nice automata of nature! These self-operating machines dispatch their business with a punctuality that never mistakes, with a dexterity that cannot be equalled. In spring they clothe themselves with such unstudied but exquisite finery, as far exceeds the embroidery of the needle, or the labours of the loom; in autumn they present us with such a collation of sweetmeats, and such blandishments of taste, as surpass all that the most critical luxury could prepare, or the most lavish fancy imagine. So that these coarse and senseless logs first decorate the divine creation, then perform the honours of the table. If, amidst these ordinary productions of the earth, Automata, or self-operating machines, not meant to set aside the superintendency of providence, but only to exclude the cooperation of man. The word avтoμаτη is used by our Master, is a very fine, and most expressive word, for which reasons I have ventured to give it a kind of English naturalization. It signifies, says a Greek scholiast, τας μηχανας, αι κατ' αυτας ενεργούσαι. See Mark iv. 28. It is an explication and an abridgment of that remarkable phrase which occurs in the Mosaic history of the creation, Gen. ii. 3. * Which God created אשר ברא אלהים לעשות and made,' appears tautological, and is by no means an exact translation; it should rather be interpreted, which God created in order to make;' to make, by these prolific instruments and reproducing principles, a continual succession of animals, vegetables, and creatures. God appears so 'great in counsel and mighty in work," what may we expect to see in the palaces of heaven, in the hierarchies of angels, and in that wonderful Redeemer, who is, beyond all other objects, beyond all other manifestations, the wisdom of God, and the power of God.'t The forest rears myriads of massy bodies, which, though neither gay with blossoms, nor rich with fruit, supply us with timber of various kinds, and of every desirable quality. But who shall cultivate such huge trees diffused over so vast a space? The toil were endless. See therefore the all-wise and ever-gracious ordination of Providence! They are so constituted, that they have no need of the spade and the pruning-knife; nay, the little cares of man would diminish rather than aug. ment their dignity and their usefulness: the more they are neglected, the better they thrive, the more wildly grand and magnificent they grow. When felled by the axe, they are sawed into beams, and sustain the roofs of our houses; they are fashioned into carriages, and serve for the conveyance of the heaviest loads: their substance so pliant, that they yield to the chizzel of the turner, and are smoothed by the plane of the joiner; are wrought into the nicest diminutions of shape, and compose some of the finest " branches of household furniture: their texture so solid, that they form the most important parts of those mighty engines, which, adapting themselves to the play of mechanic powers, dispatch more work in a single hour than could otherwise be accomplished in many days: at the same time their pressure is so light, that they float upon the waters, and glide along the surface, almost with as much agility as the fiuny fry glance through the deep. Thus, while they impart magnifi Jer. xxxii, 19. +1 Cor. 1. 24. Tully has given us an abridgment of all the preceding particulars, which I think is one of the finest landscapes in miniature that the descriptive pen ever drew: Terra universa cernatur, vestita floribus, herbis, arboribus, frugibus; quorum omnium incredibilis multitudo insatiabili varietate distinguitur. Adde huc fontium gelidas perennitates, liquores perlucidos amnium, riparum vestitus viridissimos, speluncarum concavas altitudines, saxorum asperitates, impendentium montium, altitudines immensitatesque camporum.-De Nat. Deor. lib. il. cence to architecture, and bestow numberless conveniences on the family, they constitute the very basis of navigation, and give expedition, give being to com merce. Amidst the inaccessible depths of the forest, a habi. tation is assigned for those ravenous beasts whose ap pearance would be frightful, and their neighbourhood dangerous to mankind. Here the sternly majestic lion rouses himself from his den, stalks through the midnight shades, and awes the savage herds with his roar: here the fiery tiger springs upon his prey, and the gloomy bear trains up her whelps: here the swift leopard ranges, and the grim wolf prowls, and both in quest of murder and blood. Were these horrid animals to dwell in our fields, what havoc would they make! what consternation would they spread! But they volun. tarily bury themselves in the deepest recesses of the desert; while the ox, the horse, and the serviceable quadrupeds, live under our inspection, and keep within our call, profiting us as much by their presence as the others oblige us by their absence. If, at any time, those shaggy monsters make an excursion into the habitable world, it is when man retires to his chamber and sleeps in security; the sun, which * invites other creatures abroad, gives them the signal to retreat. The sun ariseth, and they get them away, and lay them down in their dens. Strange, that the orient light, which is so pleasing to us, should strike such terror on them! should, more effectually than a legion of guards, put them all to flight, and clear the country of those formidable enemies! If we turn our thoughts to the atmosphere, we find a most curious and exquisite apparatus of air; which, because no object of our sight, is seldom observed and little regarded, yet is a source of innumerable advantages; and all these advantages (which is almost incredible) are fetched from the very jaws of ruin: my meaning may be obscure, therefore I explain myself. We live plunged, if I may so speak, in an ocean of air, whose pressure, upon a person of moderate size, is equal to the weight of twenty thousand pounds. Tre* Psalm civ. 22. mendous consideration! Should the ceiling of a room, or the roof of a house, fall upon us with half that force, what destructive effects must ensue. Such a force would infallibly drive the breath from our lungs, or break every bone in our bodies; yet so admirably has the divine wisdom contrived this aerial fluid, and so nicely counterpoised its dreadful power, that we receive not the slightest hurt, we suffer no manner of inconvenience, we even enjoy the load: instead of being as a mountain on our loins, it is like wings to our feet, or like sinews to our limbs. Is not this common ordination of Providence, thus considered, somewhat like the miracle of the burning bush, whose tender and combustible substance, though in the midst of flames, was neither consumed nor injured? Is it not almost as marvellous as the prodigy of the three Hebrew youths, who walked in the fiery furnace, without having a hair of their head singed, or so much as the smell of fire passing on their garments? Surely we have reason to say unto God, 'O, how terrible,' yet how beneficent,' art thou in thy works!' The air, though too weak to support our flight, is a thoroughfare for innumerable wings. Here the whole commonwealth of birds take up their abode; here they lodge and expatiate beyond the reach of their adversaries. Were they to run upon the earth, they would be exposed to ten thousand dangers, without proper strength to resist them, or sufficient speed to escape them; whereas, by mounting the skies, and lifting themselves up on high,' they are secure from peril, they scorn the horse and his rider. Some of them perching upon the boughs, others soaring amidst the firmament, entertain us with their notes, which are musical and agreeable when heard at this convenient distance, but would be noisy and importunate if brought nearer to our ears. Here many of those feathered families reside, which yield us a delicious treat, yet give us no trouble, put us to no expense, and, till the moment we want them, are wholly out of our way. The air, commissioned by its all-bountiful Author, + Dan. iii. 27. Exod. iii. 2. + Job xxxix. 18. |