is ripening, nature prompts another to propagate, that its fruit may be ready by the time the former has fulfilled its destination. Thus nature continually offers us an agreeable succession of flowers and fruit. She leaves no void; and, from one end of the year to the other, she watches over the successive generations of plants. But why has not our Creator given us the enjoyment of more plants at a time? The reason of it is evi dent. For how would it be, if all the flowers and fruit came at the same time? Would there not be seasons entirely without vegetables? Should we not be deprived of the pleasure which those agreeable and progressive changes procure us, by preventing the disgust inseparable from a sameness? How many plants would perish, if they were now exposed to the cold nights which are sometimes felt even in spring? Would so many millions of animals and insects find subsistence, if all the plants blossomed and bore fruit at the same time? The beneficent Creator wished to provide for our maintenance and pleasure. Those two views could only be fulfilled, by ordaining that nature should not produce all the vegetables at the same time, but successively, and by degrees.

The spring flowers, which I am now admiring and contemplating, lead me naturally to think of the early season of life. Let lovely and sprightly youth consider and behold in these flowers the image of themselves. They also are placed in a fertile soil, and have a thousand charms for which they are loved and sought. Observe how soon the violet, the auricula, and the hyacinth fade, when the cruel north-wind blows upon them. Think of the fate that threatens youth. Young man, be not vain of thy form. Do not venture to join too soon in the sports of thy companions, perhaps more robust than thou art. Be not vain of the flower of thy youth. Life is like unto grass. It flourishes as the flower of the field. "As soon as

the wind goeth over it, it is gone, and the place thereof shall know it no more."

us.

APRIL XXVII.

The Return of the Birds.

A SMALL number of birds pass the winter with Whole families have gone out of our countries. Some sought milder climates than ours; others found warm retreats in caves, in hollow ground, and other such places. By degrees those birds return to us. The mild air in spring awakens the swallow from its benumbed state; and a secret instinct brings back into their own country the birds who last autumn undertook a long passage beyond the seas, in search of subsistence, and of the climate their constitution required. Their return is usually in this order, that those who went earliest return soonest. The air will be peopled again with winged sengsters. The groves will resound with the harmonious notes of the nightingale. The swallow will return to the nest it had built the winter before. The stork will find again the very house it left at the beginning of the winter. In a few weeks, the air will resound again with the songs of birds, and their return will fill the plains and the valleys with joy and gladness.

Two things, particularly, are remarkable in this emigration of birds. The first, that they know exactly the time when they ought to return. "The stork in the heavens knoweth her appointed time; and the turtle, and the crane, and the swallow, observe the time of their coming." Undoubtedly the temperature of the air, in respect to heat and cold, and the natural inclination of those creatures to produce, and to bring up their young, are their greatest motives for changing

their place: but it is, in other respects, a very extraordinary instinct, and in some degree inexplicable. It is no less wonderful that some animals, void of reason, know so exactly the way they are to go, and how far it is. Without compass or guide, without provision, and in the most regular order, they undertake and finish a journey of sometimes more than 200 miles. Who then has taught them to follow a certain road in an element so inconstant as the air? Who informs them how far they are gone, and how far they have yet to go? Who is it that guides, feeds, and furnishes them with all necessaries for their journey? Do not those animals do what men thenselves would be unable to do? To undertake journeys of such a length, what experience, what assistance, what directions and preparations do we require? Can we even, with the assistance of our reason, with a compass and geographical maps, follow so invariably the road over seas and mountains, as the birds do, without assistance? In whatever light we consider this, we may plainly discover a power superior to the mere instinct of animals. We must acknowledge, that an Almighty Power has impressed this instinct on the mind of the birds, which they blindly follow.

APRIL XXVIII.

Use of Forests.

DURING the winter, which has just passed, we have very much felt the great advantage forests are to us. They have furnished us with a provision of wood, without which we could not have guarded ourselves against cold. But, it would be a mistake to suppose that this is their only, or even their chief use. For, if God had proposed no other end in creating them, why

should those immense forests exist, which form an uninterrupted chain through whole provinces and kingdoms, and of which the smallest part is used for firing? It is, therefore, evident that the Creator, in forming those vast forests, proposed to himself to make them of use to mankind in other ways. May not the pleasure we have in the sight of trees be one of the purposes for which they were formed? They are one of the greatest beauties of nature, and it is always a fault in a country to have no woods or groves. Our impatience, when the leaves in spring are long in coming out, and the pleasure we feel when at last they appear, make us sensible how much they adorn and embellish nature. In reflecting on the use of woods, we ought not to forget the fruit which the numerous species of trees afford us. It is true, there are some trees whose fruit appears to be of no use, at least, not of immediate use to man. But, supposing even there were several sorts of fruit not absolutely of use to us, the trees which bear them would be still useful, if it were only for their beauty, their shade, and their timber: besides, if we consider well, we shall find that those trees we call barren, are notwithstanding very useful. Does not their fruit feed an infinite number of insects, which serve for food for birds, designed to be exquisite dainties for us? The acorns of all the different sorts of oak, the chesnuts, and many other berries, are the favourite food of pigs, and wild boars: and have we not experienced in our days, that fruit, when properly prepared, may even serve as sustenance for man! They serve, besides, to preserve seeds from the forests. How many sorts of animals are there to which nature has allotted the wood for their food and habitations, and which would perish, if there were no forests! How many conveniencies, utensils, furniture, and medicines, we should be deprived of, without the wood, the

bark, and the roots of trees! Lastly, how insipid and dull would the face of the earth be, if it was not for that charming variety of fields and woods, of plains and forests! It is precisely because forests are of so much use to mankind that nature bas taken upon itseif the care of continuing them. If their generation and propagation had been left to the industry and watchfulness of man, the woods must have been at an end long ago. But the Creator reserved the forest trees to himself. He alone planted them. He alone keeps them up. It is he who disperses their little seeds over a whole extensive country. It is he who has given wings to most of those seeds, in order to be more easily carried by the wind, and spread over every place. He alone causes those vast bodies to shoot out, and rise so majestically in the air, that their tops seem to reach the very clouds. He alone plants them so firm, and preserves them for ages against every effort of the winds. He alone draws from his treasure sufficient rain and dew, to give them, every year, fresh verdure, to keep up a sort of immortality among them.

Merciful Father, thy goodness extends over the whole earth! Is there any country, any place, sɔ remote, so wild, where traces of thy wise and beneficent government may not be seen? Every where, in fields, as well as forests, in barren deserts, as in flowery plains, thou hast erected monuments of thy goodness, for thou art a God of love and mercy.

APRIL XXIX.

Pleasures which the Contemplation of Nature affords.

NATURE offers to all her children, with maternal goodness, the first, the most innocent, the