heads to the very clouds, the trees laden with fruit, the gardens enamelled with flowers, the rose in its full beauty, all bear the impression of his handy-work. The birds celebrate him with their melodious notes. The bounding flocks, the stag in the midst of the forest, the worm in the earth, the enormous whale, which dashes the waves afar off, and overturns and sinks large ships, the dreadful crocodile, and that moving mountain, the stately elephant; all the numerous hosts of animals, which people the air, the earth, and the sea; they all declare the glory of the Almighty, and proclaim his existence. How unpardonable should we be, were we deaf to this general voice of nature! Oh! Let us that are happy witnesses of the wonders of God, let us, in the presence of all his creatures, pay him that homage of gratitude and adoration so justly due to him. Let us not harden our hearts against such marks of his goodness. Let us look around us. Every thing reminds us of his blessings, every thing prompts us to gratitude and joy. Those rich lands where our food grows, those fields where our flocks graze, those forests which afford us shade and fuel, that sky which is over us, and gives us light, every thing invites to grateful joy. Let our souls be filled with it. Let the sense of our happiness, and of God's blessings, attend us in our walks, and follow us into solitude. We shall find that there is no satisfaction more heartfelt, more lasting, or more conformable to human nature than the calm pleasures which the con-templation of the works of God afford. The more we observe the beauties of nature, the more sensible we shall be, that our God is a God of love and mercy; and that the Christian religion is a source source of joy, and a continual motive for grateful adoration. JULY VII. REFLECTIONS ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. SEE and behold the flower-garden, and reflect on the number of different beauties assembled together in this little space. The art and industry of man have made it a beautiful scene of the finest flowers. But what would it have been without care and culture? A wild desert, full of thistles and thorns. Such would youth be, if they were neglected to be formed or properly educated. But when young people early receive useful instructions, and are under wise direction, they are like lovely blossoms, which delight with their beauty, and will soon produce fruit beneficial to society. Behold the night violet or the Julian flower, which towards evening scents our gardens with its perfume, in which it is superior to all others, but has no beauty. It is scarcely like a flower. It is little, and of a grey colour, tinged with green, so that it can scarce be distinguished 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 shed so sweet and pleasing a perfume. It is like a person who has much wit, and whom nature has compensated for the want of beauty by more solid endowments. The righteous man often does good in secret, and in obscurity, and sheds around him the perfume of good works; and when we wish to be acquainted with this bene ficent man, we find that there is nothing of distinction, either in his person, condition, or rank. In the carnation, beauty and perfume are both united; and it is certainly the most perfect of all flowers. It almost equals the tulip in its colours, and it surpasses it in the multitude of its leaves, and the elegance of its form. This flower is the emblem of a person who possesses both wit and beauty, and knows how to conciliate the love and respect of his fellow-creatures. Let us now observe the rose; its colour, form, perfume, every thing in this flower charms us. But it appears to be the slightest and most frail of any, and soon loses the beauty which distinguishes it from other flowers. This is an useful lesson for those who shine only in beauty; and it ought to teach them not to be vain of their charms, or trust too much to them. In general, it is a melancholy sight to see, in this fine season, the ground already strewed with so many faded and dead flowers. We ought not, however, to complain that Providence does not give more stability to them. The world is a great stage, 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. We are also sensible to the charms of novelty; it is therefore necessary that the first objects should disappear. If flowers preserved their bloom the whole year, they would not please us as much as they do by only lasting a few months. Their absence makes us wish their return. If they were continually before us, we should soon be satiated and disgusted. When we have seen an object in all its different points of view, we have in some manner exhausted its beauty, we become indifferent to it, and we aspire after new pleasures. The variation and continual succession of earthly blessings is therefore a means which Providence makes use of to render our lives constantly agreeable. Such is worldly happiness. All is vanity. "All "flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the "flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the "flower thereof falleth away." The lilies and. roses in a beautiful face fade as well as the flowers of the garden, and death leaves no traces of them. Let us then be wise enough to seek our peace and happiness in constant and durable blessings. Wisdom, virtue, and the advantages of true Christianity, never fade. They are inexhaustible sources of endless joy. JULY VIII. DESCRIPTION OF THE COMMON PHENOMENA OF A STORM." HOWEVER formidable the phenomena of thunder-storms may be, there is something so great and curious in them, that their different effects are well worth inquiring into. It is the more so, as excessive fright often prevents us from considering, with sufficient attention, this noble sight. When an electrified cloud approaches near enough to a tower, or a house, or to a cloud not electrified, so that a spark flies from it, this occasions the explosion which we call a clap of thunder. The light we then see is the lightning, or the thunderbolt. Sometimes we see only a sudden sudden and momentary flash; at other times, it is a train of fire, taking different forms and directions. The explosion attending the lightning shews, that it is the vapours which occasion the thunder; by taking fire suddenly, they agitate and dilate the air violently. At every electrical spark, a clap is heard. The thunder is sometimes composed of several claps, or prolonged and multiplied by echoes. There is generally some space 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 it requires a considerable time for the sound to reach the ear; whereas the lightning goes through the same space, and reaches our sight much more swiftly. Therefore, as soon as we see a flash of lightning, we have only to reckon the seconds in a watch, or how often our pulse beats, between the flash and the clap. Whoever can reckon ten pulsations; between the lightning and the thunder, is still at the distance of a quar ter of a league from the storm; for it is calculated that the sound takes near the time of forty pulsations in going a league. The lightning does not always go in a direct line from top to bottom: it often winds about, and goes zigzag, and sometimes it does not lighten till very near the ground. The combustible matter which reaches the ground, or takes fire near it, never fails to strike. But sometimes it is not strong enough to approach us, and like an ill-charged cannon, it disperses in the atmosphere, and does no harm. 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, fill, the largest part of our globe, lightning VOL. II. H |