seem to partake of a happiness which is denied to one who has lived to please himself, unmindful of that Great Being, who created and who died for him.

If the works of creation were more generally studied than they are, we should find the most ample proofs not only of a power which the human mind, with all its extraordinary faculties, is incapable of sufficiently comprehending, but also of unextinguishable and overflowing love. What can be a greater proof of power than the heavens above us, or the organization of the earth. We see the vast expanse of the waters of the ocean, the ever-flowing rivers, the hills and mountains, and the whole world teeming with created objects, and are sensible that they must all have been made by unerring wisdom and omnipotence. A contemplation of this stupendous power might well fill us with wonder and fear, if we were not at the same time sensible of the compassion and love, which are so freely offered, and are within the reach of every one who sincerely applies for them. They are shewn in those tender and beautiful expostulations so frequently to be met with in the bible. We see them in the injunctions promulgated, not to muzzle the mouth of the working ox, or to suffer the laden ass to remain under his burthen. The hungry birds are fed by Him, and even the hairs on the heads of his faith

ful followers are all numbered. But the grand, the important instance of love was reserved for that moment when the Creator, as well as the Saviour of the world, died on the cross to save his ungrateful creatures from everlasting death. This wonderful love is to be acknowledged by believing in our merciful Redeemer, and by following those precepts which he laid down as the rules for our conduct. Amongst these is that of shewing kindness, not only to each other, but mercy and kindness to the works of His hand. A good man will not wantonly ill use or hurt any creature however insignificant. We may use, but not abuse them.*

* A friend observes, that this is touching on the edge of a difficult question, as to the power given to us over the animal creation. May we destroy noxious and destructive animals? It is answered certainly but may we destroy them when not noxious or injurious to us? May we seek the lion in the solitude of the Lybian Desert, or the tiger in the recesses of the Indian jungle? May we kill animals for sport? May we go to their haunts purposely to destroy them, when they have not intruded on us? If Paley's argument is correct in one point of view, that though we preserve animals only for the sake of destroying them, as game, fish, &c. yet by increasing their numbers, the aggregate amount of their happiness is also increased, not to mention the pleasure derived by them from the ample nourishment they receive when under our protection; still it does not touch on the other point, how far our own feelings may be affected by this habitual exercise of our power, pushed to its utmost allowable limit. The author says, "We may use, but not abuse the animal creation," but it is only a small part of them, that being domesticated, it is in our power to use; what then is the law, as regards that larger portion not subject to our power,

There is, after all, no study so delightful, no subject so noble, as that of the contemplation of the wisdom and goodness of the Creator. While it fills us with humility at our own insignificance, it reveals to us so much care and concern for our happiness, so much power, blended with the tenderest mercy, so much unfailing kindness and forbearance, that the heart of every man must be impenetrable to grateful feelings, which does not acknowledge the obligations conferred upon him by his Maker, and endeavour to offer up some little tribute of love for all he has received. We may study to be happy ourselves, but we must at the same time study to make those happy around us. We must shew our gratitude for the blessings we have received, by kindness, good-will and charity to others, and by endeavouring to soften "those nor submitting to our will. Again, the limits separating use and abuse are so close, as to be in constant danger to be confounded. Are not racing, fox-hunting, where horses often die of exhaustion, to be ranked among instances of abuse? if not, by what stronger mark is it to be known? The anatomist says, he uses the living animal for due purposes, when he dissects it. The man of humanity replies, that he abuses his power. Which of the two is right? Many persons argue, that we have no right to keep animals in confinement, as wild beasts in dens, and birds in cages. The ladies in Holland go a step further, and put out the eyes of their canary birds, to make them sing the better; but they do not consider even this to be an abuse of their power. On the subject of field sports, the correspondence between Mr. G. Wakefield and Mr. Fox may be consulted, in which the subject is discussed with equally good temper by the scholar and the sportsman.

ills of life," to which so many of our fellow-creatures are subjected. If this principle were more acted upon, if we followed the precepts of our blessed Saviour, our practice would be that of Christians, and our conduct that of gentlemen. Pride, that greatest of all stumbling-blocks, would be replaced by humility, and religious indifference by that faith, which, as has been beautifully said, "gives to reason the wing and the eye of the eagle enabling her to soar towards the heavens, and to look upwards to the Sun of righteousness."

Sweet Spring, thou turn'st, with all thy goodly train,
Thy head with flames, thy mantle bright with flowers!
The zephyrs curl the green locks of the plain,

The clouds for joy in pearls weep down their showers.
WILLIAM DRUMMOND.

Of all the joyous seasons of the year, that of the joyous Spring delights me most. Everything is bursting into freshness, new life, and beauty. We have had a May-day which began with a golden shower, after a period of cold dry weather. All nature teemed in an instant with verdure. The air was soft and balmy, and everything looked smiling and cheerful.

O, Nature! holy, meek, and mild,
Thou dweller on the mountain wild;
Thou haunter of the lonesome wood,
Thou wanderer by the secret flood;
Thou lover of the daisied sod,

Where Spring's white foot hath lately trod;
Oh! lead me forth o'er dales and meads,

E'en as her child the mother leads;

And while we saunter, let thy speech

God's glory and his goodness preach.*

These are the sort of aspirations, which a lover of nature is constantly breathing, as he looks

A. CUNNINGHAM.