sion, as they came originally out of the hands of their Maker; insomuch, that the seed of the smallest herb that creepeth upon the wall,' cannot find an entrance into the spacious branches of the cedar of Lebanon? Or does every seed inclose in its little seedplant another seed, and so on continually, insomuch, that as many trees or plants are contained in it, as might be produced to the end of the world? Impossible as it is for us to represent to our imagination such an inconceivable number and minuteness, yet there is no impossibility in the thing itself. Those who are accustomed to exercise themselves in natural and mathematical sciences, know that they can seldom go far without meeting something infinite; as if the Author of nature had been pleased to fix the scal of his chief property upon all his works. But to proceed:

As the frame and texture of plants are so admirably well contrived for the reception of proper nourishment, and the conveyance of it to every part, so the manner of their being supplied therewith is no less miraculous. Their roots would neither fix themselves in the earth, nor their fibres branch out, nor their vessels swell, nor their leaves unfold themselves, did not the vapours ascend and form themselves above in clouds, and fall again by condensation, in order to feed the plants below with wholesome dews and showers, which descend in drops as from a watering-pot upon a garden.' The consideration of this kindly source of the earth's fertility called forth these melodious strains from the sweet singer of Israel; Thou visitest the earth and blessest it; thou makest it very plenteous. Thou waterest her furrows; thou gendest rain into the little valleys thereof; thou makest it soft with the drops of rain, and blessest the increase of it. Thou crownest the year with thy goodness, and thy clouds drop fatness."

And if the wonderful contrivance in the structure of every single plant, will lead us to a pious and holy adoration of the power and wisdom of Him, that is thus mighty in operation ; how shall we worthily magnify and bless the goodness of God, who, with a bountiful hand, has scattered that beautiful and useful variety of them over the face of the whole earth. Whatever can contribute to the service or pleasure of man; whatever is necessary for the comfort as well as the support of life; the earth brings forth in abundance, and pays as a tribute to man, to whom dominion is given over all that is therein. How is the surface of it spread over, as a table well furnished with

a variety of delicate herbs, fruits, and grains, to nourish our bodies, to please our tastes, to enliven our spirits, and to cure our diseases! God himself, at the creation of them, was graciously pleased to declare, that, for the use of man, and for his nourishment and support, they were all originally designed. 'Behold,' says he to Adam, I have given you every herb, bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree in which is the fruit of a tree bearing seed, to you it shall be for meat.'

But we have still greater reason to adore the bountiful Creator of all things, in that he has not only commanded the earth largely to supply us with the necessaries of life for our comfortable subsistence, but even with a superfluity of delicacies for our delight. How are our senses, those inlets of pleasure, regaled with the enjoyment of the kind entertainments nature sets before us! How comfortable and refreshing is the fragrancy of herbs, and flowers, and spices, to the smell! How pleasing is the delicacy of plants and fruits to the organs of taste! And what spectacles of delight everywhere present themselves to our eyes, in the cheerful verdure and gay embroidery of the fields. If we consider the lilies how they grow; and reflect, that they put on their beautiful raiment and perfume the air, to gratify our senses, to entertain our fancy, and to multiply our innocent pleasures; surely, some reasonable sentiments should arise, some returns of acknowledgement and gratitude should be paid to our indulgent Creator, who has diversified and embellished the scene for our better entertainment and refreshment in our passage, in our weary pilgrimage through life.

II. But there is another reflection to succeed, which will darken the scene, and cast a shade over the objects we behold. Thankful as we ought to be to God's good providence, for having placed us in a fruitful land, and pleasant habitation, yet we must remember, that the earth is not that paradise which once it was. It has undergone a melancholy change; and we ought never to be unmindful of the cause of it, nor can we sufficiently detest it. It was sin, alas! that introduced this deplorable alteration, and at once corrupted man, and deformed the world. God created man, and placed him in Eden, the garden of delights; where the ground of its own accord satisfied every desire, and supplied him with all the luxuriances of nature. The earth was obedient to the com

mands of God, which prevented his pains; and the same Providence which formed the garden, would have preserved it in its original perfection. It was all his own. The Lord God, to show his unlimited bounty and goodness to man, had commanded him, saying, Of every tree in the garden thou mayest freely eat;' only as an acknowledgement of the dependence he had upon his Creator, and as a test of his obedience, from tasting of one particular fruit he was debarred; Of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat; for in the day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die.' But man did eat; and the terrible consequences immediately ensued. 'Cursed be the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life; thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth unto thee; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field: in the sweat of thy brows, shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground. This dreadful punishment of Adam's transgression is so deeply rooted in the earth, that it is felt, in no small degree, by his wretched posterity to this day. Those whose employment it is to till the ground, rise up early, and go late to rest; and daily undergo great pains and weariness to force a subsistence from the earth. It is by the sweat of their brows, that we gain our bread; and, after all, how often is their labour vain, and their expectations blasted, by unfruitful seasons and the ungrateful barrenness of the soil! Hence are the cries of thousands for their daily bread, and the land becomes solitary through famine. I cannot, upon this occasion, omit the observation of a curious writer upon the subject of the products of the earth, viz. That the earth seems to have preserved its whole strength, nor does its fruitfulness appear by any means to be diminished with respect to its production of thorns and thistles, and an infinite number of other ill weeds; but that it grows weak and lean, and wants reparation and recruit in the produce of corn and those herbs, that are necessary for our food and sustenance.' Nothing but the original curse of the ground, announced a second time unto Cain, in these words, 'it shall not henceforth yield unto thee her strength,' could have given us the true solution of this remarkable phenomenon. The use, to be made of these reflections, is apparent and obvious. They show the malignant nature of sin, and how odious it is in the sight of God. They ought, therefore, to fill us with the utmost abhorrence and detestation of it; since it has, by the righteous judgement of

God, deformed the face of nature, and introduced all the labour, and toil, and trouble that is in the world. Nay, the consequences of it have been still more pernicious; sin is the parent of diseases and death.

III. This will suggest a third reflection, arising from the subject before us. When the life of man is frequently in scripture compared to a short-lived plant; when all flesh is said to be grass, and the goodliness thereof as the flower of the field,' we readily agree to the comparison, and allow the emblem to be just. The beginning, and progress, and end of human life resemble the origin, and growth, and decay of a plant. We both of us, at first, arose from one common parent -the earth; into which we shall be again resolved; for dust we are, and to dust shall we return.' If we are not blasted in the bud of life; or if, through the weakness of the frame and constitution, we are not bowed down again to the ground, still as we grow up, we are continually exposed to the storms and tempests, that beat upon us and break us down. Or should we be permitted to arrive at our full proportion of strength and height, and escape those diseases which impair our bloom, and those accidents which lie in wait to destroy us, yet in the course of nature how soon do our organs decay, are the fountains of life dried up, do our honours fall from our heads, and we languish, fade, and die! These reflections, we must be convinced, belong equally to the whole human race. No station, or condition, or age, is out of the reach of the comparison. The great and the mighty fall like other men; nor are they more safe from violence than from natural death; as the tallest tree in the forest is oftentimes torn up by winds, or shivered by lightning. The decays of age are visible to every eye; nor is the vigour of youth secure against the sudden stroke of noxious and pestilential blasts. A seasonable admonition this, to check all vain and self-flattering thoughts in the young, the gay, and the florid! Let them take in the whole of the comparison, and they will know, that if they resemble the lily in its beautiful raiment and appearance, they resemble it likewise too nearly in duration. In the morning they grow up and flourish, in the evening they wither-how sorrowful are the remembrances, that even long before the evening of life, they are often scorched and die!

IV. The last observation I shall make, is this: That as the consideration of the plants and flowers of the field, will furnish

us with a striking picture of a man's mortality, so, on the other hand, it will suggest to him the comfortable assurance of his restoration to another life. When we see the annual returns of cold shut up the passages of life in plants, and deprive them of that supply of juices which caused them to grow up and flourish on the earth; when the grass faileth, and there is no green thing, but every herb shall sicken and die, and every tree become a lifeless trunk; and yet when we behold them all revive at the return of the genial spring; when we see the face of the earth renewed in the same beautiful manner it was, and a new creation, as it were, open upon us; why should there be any physical difficulties in the doctrine of a resurrection? why should it be thought a thing incredible, that God should raise the dead? Is it at all more difficult for him, by an extraordinary act of his almighty power, to collect the scattered particles of dust, and re-unite them in that order, symmetry, and proportion, which is requisite to form the human frame; than it is by a general law (which is only the constant, but no less wonderful, operation of the same power) to recall the distant and undivided particles of inactive matter into such a disposition and arrangement, as shall give to a flower the same variegated complexion, and cause it to breathe the same essences it did before? The illustration which St. Paul uses in support of the doctrine of a resurrection, and likewise as an argument to put a stop to all vain and trifling disquisitions concerning the manner how it shall be brought to pass,-is taken from a grain of corn, that is buried, dead, and corrupted in the earth, and yet shoots forth into new life, and has life more abundantly. But some man will say, how are the dead raised up, and with what body do they come? Thou fool! that which thou sowest, is not quickened, except it die.' As if he had said, "Explain to me, if thou art able, the most common appearance in nature. Tell me, how the seed which thou sowest in the ground, and there moulders and rots, should, from an unknown and imperceptible principle, rise, as it were, again from the grave into new life, multiplied an hundred-fold, without the least deviation from its own form and body? If thou canst not tell me this, why dost thou foolishly enquire concerning the incomprehensible ways of God, in giving life to the dead? and why dost thou perplex thyself with impious doubts, in a matter which thy own experience and daily observation will teach thee, is not to be conceived or