and variety of objects. We are impressed by the discovery that the activity of the human intellect has opened such ample volumes of knowledge, not only in the several grand departments of science, but in so many of the lesser divisions, that an individual can no longer pretend to keep himself equally informed in every department of knowledge with the devotee to those several departments. The geologist kindles with enthusiasm at the discoveries opening upon his delighted eyes, as, year after year, he pursues his investigations. Just as eager is the chemist, the botanist, the artist, the astronomer, the naturalist, the mental and moral philosopher, the historian and the antiquary. These all bring yearly contributions to the common stock, enlarging the area of human knowledge. Every fresh observation renews within us the conviction that our Creator has an inexhaustible store of material for the human mind to work upon, and includes the assurance that, howsoever great may be the enlargement of our powers, God's resources will still immeasurably transcend them. We observe that we are formed, fashioned, and stamped the creatures we are found to be, by the very using of the materials with which God has surrounded us; and we are irresistibly impelled to embrace,

as a fundamental idea of heaven and of heavenly felicity, a boundless receptivity, and an equally boundless provision of objects to be received. A vigorous, healthful, Christianized soul can have no sympathy with any ideas of an idle, inefficient heaven. It is the delight of such a soul, in its present life, to turn all things to the best account, to use materials, to develop resources, to achieve results. Such an one readily comprehends that the apostle James is not more Christian than philosophic, when he exclaims: "My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers trials; knowing that the trying of your faith worketh patience;" and patient endurance of trial worketh experience, a kind of experience fruitful of hope, solid and legitimate, and not to be disappointed.

Sir Isaac Newton's intense and prolonged study of dry mathematics made him receptive, not alone of extent and quantity, but of innumerable ideas which had never else found a place in his soul. Paul's experience-five times receiving forty stripes save one, thrice beaten with rods, once stoned, thrice shipwrecked; his many journeyings, in perils of water, in perils of robbers, in perils by his countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in cities, in perils in the

wilderness, in perils among false brethren; his weariness and painfulness; his watching often; his hunger, thirst, and fastings often; his cold and nakedness; and, superadded to all of these, his care of all the churches taught him not

only to endure hardness as becometh a good soldier, but immeasurably enlarged his receptivity of all related ideas. And how much this may mean can be guessed only by those who have been similarly disciplined. What it was to him, transpires in his exclamation: "O, ye Corinthians, our mouth is open to you, our heart is enlarged! Be ye also enlarged." John Foster took cognizance of the abundance of materials with which we are surrounded, bewailed the insensibility in which so much of life is passed, and sighed and prayed for "an atmosphere of extensive consciousness," that he might not fail to take all God offers.

4. God's present creation is full of beauty, elegance, and grace. Each and every one of all its countless forms of beauty is felt to be both ephemeral and typical. It offers itself to us as a type, not as a prototype; as an emblem of the beauty, elegance, and grace to be possessed at a future day. Nowhere can one look about him without discovering the most beautiful objects

upon which to feast the eye. In every department of observation, the attentive observer is enraptured with the exquisite beauty of God's works. The naturalist, peering through his microscope, arrests his prolonged gaze at the wing of the fly, or the eye of the bee, to assure us that no words can do justice to the beauty of these objects. He expatiates with delight upon the grace and delicacy of the lines, upon the peculiarities of the texture, upon the complete and perfect finish of the objects of his examination. The botanist can never weary of studying the countless beauties of the flowers. He has an intense relish for their resemblances and contrasts. By long-continued attention he has learned to discriminate with nicety, and therefore delights in each of those beautiful peculiarities of color, form, and texture, which escape the notice of the uninstructed observer. Those only are able to speak becomingly of God's works who have made those works their attentive and longcontinued study. Of this fact the great multitude of mankind are profoundly unconscious. Because, like the impassive mirror, their eye able to receive the forms of surrounding objects, they firmly believe their souls receptive of all the beautiful ideas those objects were made to

is

suggest. It behooves the candidate for a joyous and affecting anticipation of heavenly felicity, speedily to assure himself, not only that the great Creator has unlimited resources, but that he has already, and in this present world, made an unlimited investment of those resources for man's present instruction and delight. It becomes him to make unceasing prayer to God to open his eyes, to unstop his ears, to enlarge his understanding, to enhance his sensibility, in fine, to give him the full benefit of that Divine intimation: "To as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God."

5. The last discovery which I shall mention as consequent upon an attentive survey of God's natural creation, is of a genial kindliness pervading all things; a blessing so obviously intentional that no attentive, rational, and candid observer can fail to see that it is intentional. Benevolence and beneficence are everywhere embodied in creation. Begin where you will; if you like, with yon cloud in the west, no longer glowing with the golden hues which a moment since you were dreading to lose, as a loss of beauty for which you could never be indemnified. See you not that, in the absence of that gay gilding, you are more susceptible to the impression of its exquisite