conveniencies and advantages; since, by the light of the moon, we can undertake journeys, wherever occasion calls us, prolong our work, and dispatch much business in the night-time. Besides, in what disorder and confusion should we be, in regard to the division and measure of time, were it not for the regularity with which the changes of the moon succeed each other. It is true, that the calculations of astronomers save us the trouble, on that account, of observing the variations of that planet. But all the use of almanacks is owing to the observations made on the course of the moon.

FEB. XVII.

The Rain waters the Earth, and makes it fruitful.

THE fertility of the earth depends chiefly on the moisture it receives from rain and other watery vapours. If the watering of the earth was left to the care of man, it would be an endless trouble; and, notwithstanding every effort, drought and famine would destroy us. In vain would mankind use all their powers; they would not be sufficient to water what they had planted. They might drain the pumps and the rivers, without giving water enough to the vegetables to keep them from withering and dying. How necessary, therefore, was it, that the vapours should be collected into clouds, as in reservoirs, and fall afterwards, by the assistance of the winds, upon the earth, to water the trees and plants. Every shower of rain enriches the earth, which would otherwise have a sad languishing appearance. The treasures which its surface prodigally bestows upon us, are infinitely more valuable to us than all the metals and precious stones it con

tains in its bowels. Society might subsist very well without gold or silver, but not without corn, vegetables, and pasture.

Let us reflect on the inexpressible blessings that rain produces on our globe. A seasonable shower renews the face of the earth, and has much more force and effect than the dew, which in the night-time moistens the grass and the leaves. The furrowed fields drink with avidity the beneficent rains poured upon them. The principles of fertility unfold themselves in the seeds, and second the labour of man. The husbandman ploughs, sows, and plants, and God gives the increase. Men do what is in their power; and whatever is beyond their ability, the Lord himself provides for. In winter, he covers the seed as with a garment. In summer, he warms and refreshes them by the rays of the sun, and by rain. He crowns the year with his blessings: and he grants them so successively, that mankind are not merely nourished, but their hearts are filled with joy and gladness. The divine blessing does not fall on cultivated fields only; it extends also over the meadows and fields of the deserts. The countries even that are forsaken by man, and from which no direct use is drawn, are still objects of providential care: For such is the goodness of God, that the hills and the valleys rejoice, and are adorned with smiling verdure. The rain does not fall in vain upon them. And if they do not yield fruit for our support, they are, at least, immense reser voirs of water for our earth; and they produce a great variety of wholesome plants and simples good for our health, and which serve also as food for animals.

Never let us forget God's blessings. How often, in this month particularly, is the earth watered with rain; but how seldom do we reflect as we ought upon this blessing! Let us learn to know

the full value of it, and consider how gloomy, barren, and desert, all nature would be, if the sky had been to us like brass, and the earth as iron. All the plants and trees would perish: every living creature would faint: the rivers would dry up; and we should breathe death in the air. But every time the rain waters the earth, God sheds new blessings upon us. And yet we complain or murmur when the winter rains are heavy, or last any length of time. We rashly censure the government of God! Ah! rather let us bless the Creator, and praise his goodness towards us. By his order, the seasons are renewed and regularly succeed each other. It is for us that the rain falls, and makes the earth fruitful. God opens his liberal hand to do good to man. His blessings light upon our land, and fill it with peace and plenteousness. Let us then adore our Creator, and sing to his glory hymns of praise and thanksgiving. What has he not already done for us, and what may we not still expect from his goodness!

FEB. XVIII.

The Images of Death which Winter affords.

WE continually require warnings to make us think of the end of our days. We are too much inclined to banish the thought of death from our minds; and, if it was otherwise, the avocations and pleasures of life scarce allow us time for it, or, at least, to think of it so as to profit by it. It is, however, necessary for our repose and safety, that we should frequently reflect on this great event, in order to lessen our fears of it. Let us therefore take advantage of the present season for that purpose, and consider, as the images of death, some of the objects daily before us. Na

ture is deprived of the beauty and charms with which it was adorned in summer: the fields and gardens, where we walked with so much pleasure, are useless and deserted; they have no longer any thing inviting in them; the days are too short and disagreeable, to make us wish to pass them in the country. Is not this a lively image of our state, when arrived at the winter of life? All the charms we are so vain of in the spring or summer of life, disappear. The vexations, peevishness, and infirmities of age, no longer permit us to enjoy or relish the amusements of youth; and few young people find pleasure in our company: the short and gloomy days of age are a burden to us; and if we are reasonable, our wishes tend towards a better life. How short are the days at this season! and yet, now they are so dull, we should be in the wrong to complain of it. As our frail life is a constant struggle against sin and misery, is it not a blessing that God has so limited our earthly existence? The path to heaven is narrow, and full of thorns: ought we not then to bless Providence for making it so short? Several kinds of animals pass the winter in a sound sleep, from which they do not awake till they feel the mild and enliven. ing warmth of spring. So will our lifeless body rest in the grave, till the day of judgment shall awaken it from the sleep of death. In winter, the night surprises, and comes upon us, before we expect it, in the midst of our employments. Perhaps, when we proposed to finish such and such business, the evening comes suddenly and interrupts us. Here, again, we find a very simple image of the night of death: it will happen, perhaps, when least expected. In the midst of projects for future days; in the midst of very important undertakings, which we had hoped to accomplish, this dreadful death will surprise

us.

I Grant, O God, that it may find us employed so as to be conducive to our eternal happiness! The most melancholy circumstance of the winter nights is certainly their length, which deprives us so long of the sun; and, perhaps, one reason for dreading death is, the thought of being so long in the grave. But as the winter nights glide imperceptibly away in a sweet sleep, so will death insensibly. pass by; and we shall unexpectedly behold the great light of the new creation shine forth. These are the edifying and useful reflections which winter presents us. Let us not be afraid to contemplate these images of death; and let us endeavour to profit by them. Let the thought of our latter end be familiar, and present to us in every situa-› tion of life. Then shall we think of death without fear. It will be a comfort to us in affliction, a friend and faithful counsellor in prosperity, and a shield against temptations.

FEB. XIX.

Means to procure Fire.

IN these long winter nights, and during the severe cold weather, fire is an inestimable blessing, for which we cannot be too grateful. How. wretched and miserable our lives would be at this season, if God had not given to fire the virtue of warming and lighting our houses; and if this ele. ment was not to he found every where, and in every thing? It is to be found in sulphur, in the fat of animals, in the wax which the bees gather, and in all vegetables, though they seem inactive, and there is no outward visible appearance of its effects. But their clashing together discovers it; and shews, at least, that there must be fire iu every part of the air. By the quick repeated friction of hard bodies, such as steel and flint,