tyrant ?'

beauty, by every arrangement and provision for the security, the accommodation, the happiness of its occupiers, was reduced to its existing situation by the act of its own lawful sovereign-the very sovereign by whom it had been erected, the emperor of that part of the world. Was he a ferocious 'No' is the universal reply. 'He was a monarch, pre-eminent for consistency, forbearance, and benignity.' 'Was his judgment blinded or misled by erroneous intelligence, as to the plans and proceedings of his subjects?? He knew every thing but too well; he understood with undeviating accuracy; he decided with unimpeachable wisdom.' The case, then,' cries the traveller, 'is plain; the conclusion is inevitable. Your forefathers were assuredly ungrateful rebels, and thus plucked down devastation upon their city, themselves, and their posterity.' The actual appearance of the globe on which we dwell, is in strict analogy with the appearance of such a city."

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I see your argument, Father: the globe affords a display of the justice and holiness of God, without being any impeachment of his goodness.

True, Frank; a Being who was not just and holy, could not be good. But have you read Paley's chapter on the divine goodness?

Yes, Father.

Can you mention some of the principal thoughts which are contained in it?

I think I can. He says, that notwithstanding the pain and affliction which are to be found in the world, that, nevertheless, the creation is in a great measure happy. He remarks, that this is the case with the whole insect world. Their sportive motions prove their felicity. A bee among the flowers is one of the most cheerful objects which can be looked on. Its life appears to be all enjoyment; it is so busy and so pleased yet it is only a specimen of the happiness of the whole. The motions of the fish in the water, and their leaping up out of it, show that they are happy.

Does he not mention a curious instance of fish leaping out of the water?

He does. I wrote the paragraph out in my pocket book. Shall I read it, Father? Do, Frank; it is very remarkable.

66 Walking," he says, 66 by the sea-side, in a calm evening, upon a sandy shore, and with an ebbing tide, I have frequently remarked the appearance of a dark cloud, or rather, very thick mist, hanging over the edge of the water, to the height, perhaps, of half a yard, and of the breadth of two or three yards, stretching along the coast as far as the eye could reach, and always retir

ing with the water. When this cloud came to be examined, it proved to be nothing else. than so much space, filled with little shrimps, in the act of bounding into the air from the shallow margin of the water, or from the wet sand. If any motion of a mute animal could express delight, it was this; if they had meant to make signs of their happiness, they could not have done it more intelligibly. Suppose then, what I have no doubt of, each individual of this number to be in a state of positive enjoyment; what a sum, collectively, of gratification and pleasure have we here before our view!"

This is a very pleasing display of the happiness which pervades the lowest departments of the creation. We need only open our eyes, Frank, or take a walk, and we shall behold a multitude of objects, which prove that God is good. If we look at the heavens, its magnificence delights us they, indeed, without language, sublimely declare the glory of God, and the vast expanse displays his handy work. The flowers, adorning, more or less, every season of the year, cannot but gratify us with their beauty and fragrance. The trees, and the shrubs, and the fine colors that distinguish every object; the exquisite carpet which is spread over the face of nature;

the melody of the birds; the reviving gale; the cheering sunshine; and herbs and fruits, which both nourish us and delight our taste; all declare that God is good, and that "his tender mercies are over all his works."

Paley remarks, Father, that the young of all animals appear to receive pleasure even from the motion of their limbs and the use of their faculties, without reference to any end to be answered by the exertion. "A child,” he observes, "without knowing any thing of the use of language, is in a high degree delighted with being able to speak. Its incessant repetition of the few articulate sounds, or, perhaps, of the single word, which it has learned to pronounce, proves this point clearly. Nor is it less pleased with its first successful endeavors to walk, or rather to run, (which precedes walking,) although entirely ignorant of the importance of the attainment to its future life. A child is delighted with speaking, without having any thing to say; and with walking, without knowing where to go. And, prior to both these, I am disposed to believe that the waking hours of infancy are agreeably taken up with the exercise of vision, or, perhaps, more properly speaking, with learning to see."

I believe that the views of this excellent writer are just. It is a gratifying thought,

that the creatures which are in pain and misery are as nothing, contrasted with those which enjoy ease and happiness. At every moment, there are countless myriads of beings which are in the enjoyment not only of comfort, but delight. And even in reference to the afflictions of mankind, we have abundant reason to believe the sentiment of the sacred Scriptures, that "God does not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of

men."

God's great goodness shines in making suitable provision for the immense family of his creatures. If a person should feed a whole town, with twenty thousand persons in it, for a twelvemonth, how great must be his resources! how vast his liberality! Yet, through successive years and ages, God feeds all the innumerable tribes of being, and he does it with infinite ease. What can be more easy than for us to open our hand? With as much ease does God supply the wants of the innumerable family of being. The Psalmist gives us this sublime idea. "These," he says, "all wait upon thee; that thou givest them, they gather; thou openest thine hand, they are filled with good." Only to mention one instance of the vast supplies with which he furnishes his creatures; a shoal of herrings is often more than six miles long, and three broad.