can be conceived of, more suited to the wants of a labourer, toiling in the dust or sun, athirst and weary, than a plate of strawberries, a melon, or a basket of cherries, or peaches, or apples. With these and other fruits, which might easily be raised in sufficient abundance, together with such simple drinks as common beer, milk, and molasses and water; and cider when desired, the labouring classes of the community would undoubtedly be able to perform the greatest quantity of work, with the highest health, and in the best spirits. double purpose of quenching thirst, the same time, that they were and recruiting exhausted animal properly aware of the danger of nature, and in the most perfect intemperance. Nothing certainly manner. It is in the highest degree-I refer only to the case of temperate persons-grateful to the palate, refreshing to the system, and salutary in its remote and general effects. It is a consideration. also worthy of remark, that when our friends visit us, the feelings of hospitality very justly prompt us to set before them some refreshment —a refreshment not only generally acceptable, but often needed. Those who have no fruit, very commonly offer their friends some kind of fermented liquors-the very thing perhaps which is neither needed nor desired. But those who have fruit, almost invariably bring it forward, and to the evident satisfaction of their guests. And when fruit and liquors are both presented, the fruit is seized with avidity, and the wine, the strong beer, and the spirits are generally left untouched. The man indeed, whose appetite is not satisfied with delicious fruits alone, already possesses a danger ous fondness for spiritous liquors. It may be thought by some, that the labouring classes of the community would set but little value upon the substitute here proposed for ardent spirits. Whether they would or not, it is certain that the use which they make of ardent spirits is detrimental. But what reason can be assigned why they should value fruit less than other men. They have the same appetite; and fruit is equally refreshing to them. The reformation of drunken labourers, by the substitution of fruit for ardent spirits, is certainly not expected: not indeed the reformation of any other class of drunkards. But in those cases where the natural taste has not been vitiated by the use of ardent spirits, it is believed that fruit would be chosen by labourers invariably, in preferonce to ardent spirits-allowing at The expense of cultivating fruit is much less than is generally supposed. In the court yards and gardens connected with most houses, there is ground sufficient,-and ground usually unoccupied-for raising in abundance every variety of fruit suited to the climate, with the single exception of apples. The original expense of procuring the trees is trifling; and even this may soon be wholly saved by a little pains in raising them. That which is indispensably necessary, and which constitutes the principal difficulty in the way of procuring fruit, is the frequent attention requisite for preserving the trees from injury while young, for improving the fruit by introducing good sorts, and for keeping up a continued supply. But this requisite attention makes no serious encroachment upon the time; and those who have bestowed it, have found themselves abundantly compensated by the pleasure and healthfulness of the occupation, aside from the direct enjoyment of their labours. Very great exertions are now making to banish all improper use of ardent spirits from our land. In these exertions every Christian and every philanthropist must rejoice. Since the commencement of these exertions, the importance of providing substitutes for ardent spirits has frequently occurred to the benevolent, and various substitutes have been suggested. In recommending fruit for this purpose, it is not designed to have it take the place of other suitable substitutes; but to have it introduced into their number, with that rank and importance in the scale to which its just claims may entitle it. But in all our exertions to pre vent intemperance our hopes must be placed chiefly in the extension of correct religious principle. The dangers inseparably attendant upon the use of ardent spirits may be pointed out; and suitable substitutes may be proposed; but against every attempt at reformation, the concurring influence of interest and appetite will be set in array. Against these, considerations of a temporal nature will have little weight. The only adequate remedy is the fear and love of Him who has solemnly assured us that drunkards shall not inherit the kingdom of God. B ON THE WORKS OF GOD. -m. ALL parts of nature's works are replete with exhibitions of infinite skill. To whatever point we turn in this vast theatre of divine workmanship, the eye is met by beauties unnumbered, which rise in endless succession to dazzle and confound. And there is a peculiar aptitude in the study of nature, to interest, please, and profit. Here is ample scope for the most vigorous exercise of all the intellectual faculties. From the blade of grass that is trampled under foot, to the towering cedar that loses its top in the clouds; from the microscopic animalcula that sports in the cup, to the leviathan that buffets the billows of the deep; from the grape that blushes in the garden, to the star that twinkles in the skies; from the invisible particle of odour that is wafted on the breeze, to the resplendent orb that pours floods of light on surrounding worlds; there is not a spot, where the student may not ply his powers of investigation, and feast with delight; or where the Christian may not find cause to reverence and adore. Though to the superficial observer all may seem confusion, still it is a confusion so nearly allied to regularity, as to possess charms which are sought in vain from any other source. But to the student, as he enters the field of nature, and begins a scientific survey of her works, all things assume a new aspect. Where he had seen nothing but disorder, he discovers perfect regularity. And as he extends his investigations, his delight rises to wonder and astonishment, that so few and simple are the laws, which govern the almost infinite variety of forms and movements that appear on our globe, and in the expanse of the heavens; and though he may with propriety exclaim; "O Lord, how manifold are thy works," yet he cannot fail to add, "in wisdom hast thou made them all." Think, for a moment, of the ten thousand kinds of animals that inhabit the globe; yet so uniform are the laws of their formation, that a single bone of any one of them is a sufficient guide for ascertaining with certainty, not only whether the animal, of which it formed a part, was an inhabitant of the water, or roamed in the forest, or soared on the wing; but whether it peacefully fed on the vegetable productions of the earth, or rapaciously seized its food at the expense of kindred life. Or turn your thoughts to the immensely diversified forms that compose the vegetable kingdom. According to Humbolt's estimation, not less than forty-four thousand kinds of plants are actually known; yet the immortal Linneus has discovered, that such system pervades the whole, as to divide them into only twentyfour classes, containing, upon an average, scarcely more than five orders in each class. Thus, of the numberless millions of plants, that clothe the earth with verdure. and give such freshness and gaiety to spring, and such richness and beauty to summer; each individual bears so distinctive marks of relationship to one or other of these classes and orders, as to enable the botanist, with a glance of the eye, to assign it to its appropriate class and order. Enter the laboratory of the chemist, and see what the Maker of all things has done to simplify the study of his works. A single shelf contains the elements of the material world. Less than sixty simple substances compose the earth and all its productions. These, with their various combinations, form all that is beautiful, all that is curious, all that is grand in nature. In that department which is appropriately denominated natural philosophy, there is no less cause of admiration. It is the same principle, that causes the vapours to rise, and the winds to blow; that suspends the clouds over our heads, and brings them down in showers; that guides the rivers in their channels, and keeps the fountains of the great deep from being broken up; that holds our buildings upon their foundations, and retains the earth in its orbit; that directs the stars in their courses, and prevents worlds from dashing against worlds. To inquire whether the attraction of cohesion and that of gravitation are one and the same principle under different modifications, does not come within the limits of our present subject. But certain it is, that the attractive power, which is properly entitled gravitation, produces all the effects that have just been enumerated, and ten thousand more. Upon this simple principle, depends the very existence of the universe. Remove it, and the rivers would cease to flow, or would spread desolation over, surrounding countries, and convert them into stagnant marshes; springs of water would no longer gush out in the vallies; the heavens would forbear to give us rain, and the earth to yield her increase ;-nay, by the rotation of the earth, the mountains would be hurled from their bases, and the inhabitants of the globe with all their possessions, swept away with the besom of destruction ;-worlds would be converted into ruinous heaps, or scattered in broken fragments through the immense abyss unknown. Other principles in this branch of science, equally simple, and scarcely less important in their consequences, might be enumerated. I might enter into various other departments of nature, and dwell upon the beauties and wonders that have been discovered in each; but it would be incompatible with my present design. Systems of worlds, with all their grandeur, with all the magnificence, with which their adorable Author has seen fit to invest them, present themselves for our inquiries and contemplation. The study of nature's works, although in every part highly interesting and profitable, is no where so sublimely interesting and profitable, as in that department which contemplates the spangled heavens, and regards those glimmering spots that bestud the sky; some, as immense globes of heat and light; others, as worlds like our own, covered with verdure, and filled with inhabitants. Of all sciences, astronomy is the most sublime; is best calculated to give energy, elevation, and expansion to the mental powers. It is a just remark, that the mind becomes assimilated to the objects of its contemplation. If these are low and groveling, the mind will be correspondingly degraded. If they are noble and elevated, it will partake of their elevation. In other departments of science where material objects are concerned, comparatively small portions of matter are regarded as wholes, and smaller subdivisions, as parts. In astronomy, systems are regarded as wholes, and worlds, as parts. Vast as the subject is, it falls within the limits of human comprehension. Where then, in the whole field of science, can be found so grand a theme, so sublime a subject for contemplation, as that which astronomy affords? Where, short of Him who made, and presides over all, can the mind light upon objects, so nobly calculated to call forth its highest efforts, to waken every faculty, to summon up all its energies; almost to sever its connection with the petty interests of this little world, and give it a buoyancy to rise, till kingdoms, and empires, and the earth itself, dwindle to a point? I do not say, that the mathematical principles, by which the motions of the heavenly bodies are investigated, and by which the laws that regulate them are ascertained, have in themselves any peculiar tendency of this kind; though in their application they certainly have; and it cannot fail to excite the liveliest admiration, that, standing upon this earth, the astronomer can determine with precision the revolutions, rotations, velocities, periodical times, distances, magnitudes, and densities of worlds, hundreds of millions of miles distant. To one unacquainted with the subject, all this may at first view seem a mere chimera of the brain; and he may be induced to regard the facts which astronomers assert, as nothing better than vague conjecture. But in this he is essentially mistaken. They arrive at their conclusions by a process no less certain, than that which guides the mere arithmetician in the solution of a problem in simple proportion. All this could never be accomplished, unless there were an astonishing regularity, uniformity, and simplicity in the laws of nature. This subject too may serve to show, with what exalted faculties man has been endowed by his Creator; may well excite the student to persevering diligence in the pursuit of his investigations; and ought to remind all of the importance of assiduously cultivating, according to their opportunities, the powers which have been so richly bestowed upon them. But let us turn to actual phenomena, and facts that have been discovered. Look at yonder luminous point in the heavens. It is larger, and shines with steadier and brighter lustre, than others around it. It is the planet Jupiter. Let your imaginations take wing and soar away some hundred millions of miles, and light upon it. It is a world almost fourteen hundred times as large as the globe we inhabit. What now has become of the earth we were accustomed to consider so enormous a body? It has vanished; or is dimly seen among the smallest stars. sun has lost more than half his magnitude, and shines with diminished splendour. Other stars, and other planets, perhaps, belonging to our system, which the utmost stretch of human invention has not been able to discover, now present themselves to view. Thus you may in imagination wander from planet to planet till you have surveyed the whole solar system, embracing an extent of thirty-six hundred millions miles, and a space of more than ten thousand millions miles in circuit, comprising, according to actual discoveries, thirty globes, or worlds, four of which are immensely larger, and one of which is more than a million times larger, than the earth; and after all, what have you seen? An atom, a speck, a mere The point in the immensity of nature's works. Other suns, centres, in all probability, of other systems, in number exceeding all calculation, yet remain unsurveyed. That the greatest diameter of the earth's orbit, which is one hundred ninety-four millions miles, is but a point, when compared with the distance of the nearest fixed star, is capable of the most perfect demonstration; and it is scarcely less certain, that stars have been discovered four hundred ninety-seven times the distance of one of these. And since every improvement in the telescope, which has enabled the astronomer to penetrate farther into the immensity of space, has unveiled new clusters of worlds, it can hardly be called a bold presumption, to say, that there is no limit to their number. So that, if we should be placed upon the remotest star that has ever been discovered, others would rise to view, as far beyond; and could we make such a remove once a second, during a life of a hundred years, we should but just enter the vestibule of creation. we With what propriety may here adopt the language of the psalmist, and say; "When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers; the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?" Whatever view we take of this subject, it is preeminently calculated to humble the pride of man. The contemplation of the heavens seems to have been one of the favourite means, which David employed to obtain a clear view of his own insignificance; and he seems always to have retired from such contemplations, with an overwhelming sense of his turpitude and unworthiness in the sight of Him, whose throne is beyond the stars. Here let me drop the remark, that whatever tends to extend the field of mental vision, and enlarge the intellectual powers, has a natural tendency to show man his littleness, and to give him a humiliating view of his own character. And well it may; for the more he looks abroad, and the more correct views he comes to entertain of other things, of other beings, and of other worlds, the more just estimate he will be enabled to form of his own comparative non-importance in the scale of existences. What little things, we mortals are? And, in this view of things, how contemptible the pomp of all human greatness; how vain the bustle of selfimportance; how empty the show of wealth and the pride of power? But what exalted thoughts, are we at the same time constrained to entertain of Him who made, upholds, and governs all; who hung so numberless worlds upon nothing, and gave them their first impulse to run their ceaseless round; and who still continues to roll them on, and guide them all in strict conformity to the exactest laws., When we speak of the laws of nature, it is by no means intended to convey the idea, that they possess any efficiency in themselves. They are merely the modes of divine operation; the rules, which the Creator has established and is maintaining in the government of the universe. When a heavy body, on being thrown upward, returns to the earth, we say it falls by the law of gravitation, or gravitation is the cause of its descending. But it is nothing else, than the power of the deity, operating uniformly in this manner. I am aware, that it has been made a question, whether the Creator did not originally communicate to matter, power to operate by certain laws; and, consequently, whether all the phenomena, exhibited in the works of nature, are not the result of an inherent efficiency in matter itself, independently of his immediate agency. That these phenom-. |