tory, and it is full of life. Whole Floras, all næus' and Buffon's volumes, are dry cataues of facts; but the most trival of these ts, the habit of a plant, the organs, or work, noise of an insect, applied to the illustration a fact in intellectual philosophy, or, in any y associated to human nature, affects us in most lively and agreeable manner. The seed a plant, to what affecting analogies in the ure of man, is that little fruit made use of, in discourse, up to the voice of Paul, who calls human corpse a seed,· "It is sown a natural ly; it is raised a spiritual body." The motion the earth round its axis, and round the sun, kes the day, and the year. These are cerʼn amounts of brute light and heat. But is re no intent of an analogy between man's life 1 the seasons? And do the seasons gain no ndeur or pathos from that analogy? The tincts of the ant are very unimportant, conered as the ant's; but the moment a ray of ation is seen to extend from it to man, and the le drudge is seen to be a monitor, a little body ha mighty heart, then all its habits, even at said to be recently observed, that it never eps, become sublime. Because of this radical correspondence between Tan all ata ese ork, ion any in eed the ■ in alls ral on un, er is ife no The n of he ly en er -n have only what is necessary, converse As we go back in history, language more picturesque, until its infancy, all poetry; or all spiritual facts are r by natural symbols. The same sy found to make the original elements guages. It has moreover been observe idioms of all languages approach ead passages of the greatest eloquence a And as this is the first language, so is This immediate dependence of lang nature, this conversion of an outwar enon into a type of somewhat in h never loses its power to affect us. which gives that piquancy to the co of a strong-natured farmer or back-v which all men relish. A man's power to connect his tho its proper symbol, and so to utter it, the simplicity of his character, that i love of truth, and his desire to comm without loss. The corruption of man by the corruption of language. When of character and the sovereignty o broken up by the prevalence of desires, the desire of riches, of pl power, and of praise,— and duplicity wer over nature as an interpreter of the will, in a degree lost; new imagery ceases to be -ated, and old words are perverted to stand - things which are not; a paper currency is ployed, when there is no bullion in the vaults. due time, the fraud is manifest, and words e all power to stimulate the understanding or e affections. Hundreds of writers may be and in every long-civilized nation, who for a ort time believe, and make others believe, that ey see and utter truths, who do not of themves clothe one thought in its natural garment, t who feed unconsciously on the language eated by the primary writers of the country, ose, namely, who hold primarily on nature. But wise men pierce this rotten diction and sten words again to visible things; so that cturesque language is at once a commanding rtificate that he who employs it, is a man in iance with truth and God. The moment ow scourse rises above the ground line of familiar ets, and is inflamed with passion or exalted by ought, it clothes itself in images. A man con rsing in earnest, if he watch his intellectual ocesses, will find that a material image, more less luminous, arises in his mind, contemporaous with every thought, which furnishes the and brilliant discourse are perpetual This imagery is spontaneous. It is th of experience with the present acti mind. It is proper creation. It is th of the Original Cause through the i he has already made. These facts may suggest the advan the country-life possesses for a powe over the artificial and curtailed life of c know more from nature than we can a municate. Its light flows into the 1 more, and we forget its presence. Th orator, bred in the woods, whose se been nourished by their fair and changes, year after year, without d without heed, shall not lose their together, in the roar of cities or the politics. Long hereafter, amidst agi terror in national councils, - in the ho olution, — these solemn images shall r their morning lustre, as fit symbols an the thoughts which the passing ev awaken. At the call of a noble sentim the woods wave, the pines murmur, rolls and shines, and the cattle low mountains, as he saw and heard th infancy. And with these forms, the 3. We are thus assisted by natural objects in e expression of particular meanings. But how eat a language to convey such pepper-corn formations! Did it need such noble races of eatures, this profusion of forms, this host of bs in heaven, to furnish man with the dictiony and grammar of his municipal speech? Whilst we use this grand cipher to expedite the fairs of our pot and kettle, we feel that we ve not yet put it to its use, neither are able. We are like travellers using the cinders of a olcano to roast their eggs. Whilst we see that always stands ready to clothe what we would y, we cannot avoid the question, whether the aracters are not significant of themselves. Have ountains, and waves, and skies, no significance it what we consciously give them, when we nploy them as emblems of our thoughts? The orld is emblematic. Parts of speech are methors, because the whole of nature is a metaor of the human mind. The laws of moral ture answer to those of matter as face to face a glass. "The visible world and the relation its parts, is the dial plate of the invisible." he axioms of physics translate the laws of hics. Thus, "the whole is greater than its |