restored to its former fluid state. Gold is the first and most valuable of all metals, not only from its scarcity, but from its admirable properties. It is the hardest and most unalterable of all bodies. It can bear, for two months, being in the hottest fire, without any sensible loss in its weight. Its parts are so fine, that a grain of beaten gold can cover fifty square inches, in such a manner that the naked eye may distinguish, on the two surfaces, four millions of particles; and its ductility is such, that, with a single grain, one may draw out a thread five hundred feet long. The wonderful form of common salt; the brilliant stones; the singular figures of the earth, where the metals are concealed, the petrified bodies that are often found on the high mountains, some hundred miles from the sea, which is their original source; and an hundred other singularities in the mineral world, seem formed to awaken our curiosity. No employment whatever has more charms, is more satisfactory, or has more variety in it, than an attentive observation of nature. Supposing we were to live ages on the earth, and that we were to employ every day, every hour, in studying only the singularities amongst minerals, there would still be, at the end of that time, a thousand things we could not explain, which would remain hidden from us, and would more and more raise our curiosity. Since our lives scarce extend to half an age, let us then make good use of the little time granted us; and let us devote it, as much as our first duties will permit, to the observation of nature; and thus enjoy the most innocent and lasting pleasures of the mind. The satisfaction we shall And in it will increase more and more, in proportion as we reflect more attentively on the views God has proposed to himself in his works: for the wonders of nature are infinitely more to be admired, and more sublime, than all the productions of human art. The latter do not

always promote our welfare, or make us better: they are often mere objects of fruitless admiration. But all the works of nature, and even the most singular among them, tend to the universal good of the world. They exist, not only to be seen, but also to be enjoyed; and all, without exception, proclaim the goodness, as well as the wisdom of God.

FEB. XXV.

Daily Proofs experienced of Divine Providence.

LET us try to enumerate all the blessings which the mercy of God has heaped upon us, from the first moment of our existence to the present hour. Could we reckon the stars, we could as little think of numbering the blessings we have received during the course of one year only. What would it be, then, during the course, perhaps, of a long life? What mercies received during our infancy, though they are now forgotten? nights passed quietly in a sound sleep; food that nourish. ed and strengthened us. From how many visible and invisible dangers have we not been delivered? How often has God provided for our necessities, and confounded our incredulity, when we thought it impossible? Nothing can happen to us from which the eye of Heaven cannot save us. Every day of our lives has increased the number of God's mercies. Each time the sun begins his course, his goodness is renewed towards us. And who knows how often God has shewn his mercy, and preserved us from dangers unknown to us, and with which we shall only be acquainted in the world to come? What shall we then say of the blessings of the Lord, in having redeemed us, through Jesus Christ; in having given us the gospel, to teach us the way to salvation? What mercy, that we were not born in the darkness of

Paganism, instead of the light of Christianity; and that God continually works to our sanctification and perfection? Are not these so many proofs of his goodness and tender compassion? [ am willing to believe that it is impossible any body can think of reckoning the amazing number of God's blessings. Let us then limit ourselves to a single day, and endeavour to compute the mercies which each day brings with it: light, air, food, strength to labour, the dwelling we inhabit, and the relations on which our happiness depends.

O may these daily proofs of the providence and goodness of God make the strongest and most lasting impression on our hearts! They will undoubtedly, if our souls are susceptible of any emotions of gratitude. If we have any sense of the greatness of God's mercy, and our own unworthiness, it is impossible we should not feel the highest gratitude towards the Preserver of our lives. But, in order to maintain in our hearts a lively remembrance of God's blessings, let us often compute them. The more we think of them, the more we shall be disposed to magnify the Lord our God, and the more delighted we shall be in celebrating his praise.

FEB. XXVI.

Tranquillity of the Night.

I CANNOT think, without admiration and gratitude, on the tender care of Providence to secure us repose at night. When the day closes, a calm us spread over all nature, which proclaims to every creature a rest from labour, and invites mankind to sleep. During the time destined for the repose of man, nature, in favour of him, suspends noise, dazzling light, and every lively im.

pression. All animals, whose activity might disturb our sleep, have themselves occasion to sleep. The birds seek their nests; the horse, the ox, and our other domestic animals, sleep around us. But this tranquillity in the night is not equally agreeable to every body. Many, who, from pain, sickness, and other accidents, pass restless nights, wish this calm, this melancholy silence interrupted. Their sufferings and their uneasiness seems to increase, while all are asleep around them. They reckon the hours, and are impatient of day, in the hope that society will be some relief to them. Many wicked people also, who pass the day in continual disorder and dissipation, find the tranquillity of the night painful and trou. blesome. It awakens their conscience, and the least noise frightens them.

I bless thee, O God, for making the repose of night so agreeable and refreshing. The health and peace of mind I enjoy, procure me the sweetest sleep. When I have gone through the labours of the day, the coming of night makes me adore thy goodness, which has disposed all things so happily to give us a quiet repose. I lie down with tranquillity, while wicked men and robbers walk in the dark paths of crimes and sin. I sleep in peace, while many sick people, lying on a bed of pain and infirmities, are sighing for sleep. They would consider the smallest rest as a blessing, and cannot obtain it. I enjoy a refreshing slumber, while the intemperate man is still loading himself with meat and drink; while the miser is tormenting himself with sordid care, and with the fear of one day wanting the necessaries of life; and while the discontented and ambitious man rolls in his mind the most distant plans of future elevation and greatness.

But how often does man interrupt the tranquil. lity of night by levity or malice! The boisterous Moise of drunkards, and the wild spirits of liber

tines, often disturb the repose of others, and deprive them of the sweets of sleep. Ought we not to respect the order God has so wisely established in nature, too much to disturb it in the levity of our hearts?-Ought we not to love our fellow. creatures enough to prevent us from disturbing their sleep, and, by that means, perhaps hurting both health and life?-Alas! this ill-timed noise may happen to disturb and frighten, in one place, a dying person; in another, a woman in labour, or a mother nursing her child.

The repose I hope for in the grave will be very different. There I shall sleep in peace, and shall not be awakened till the voice of my Judge shall call me back to life. How happy are the faithful, whom death has sent to God! They are released from all the miseries to which we are subject in this world. Here the very happiest life is passed in continual hopes and fears, and our repose is disturbed by numberless troubles and anxieties. The righteous, on the contrary, whose bodies rest quietly in the grave, are free from all misery; and never more will cares, sorrow, or pain, embitter their joy.

FEB. XXVII.

Winter is the Image of our Life.

IN these winter days there are continual changes. Flakes of snow and showers of rain, storms and calms, cloudy days and serene skies, succeed each other. The snow has scarce covered nature with its brilliant whiteness, when the rain comes to destroy it. The sun scarce shows itself, when it again disappears from us. Are there not the same vicissitudes in the moral world? If many of the days of winter are dark, dull, and gloomy, so are many scenes through life. But as storms and darkness are necessary, and conformable to