ght the universe with their admonishing smile. The stars awaken a certain reverence, because nough always present, they are inaccessible; ut all natural objects make a kindred impression, hen the mind is open to their influence. Naare never wears a mean appearance. Neither oes the wisest man extort her secret, and lose is curiosity by finding out all her perfection. Naare never became a toy to a wise spirit. The owers, the animals, the mountains, reflected he wisdom of his best hour, as much as they ad delighted the simplicity of his childhood. When we speak of nature in this manner, we ave a distinct but most poetical sense in the aind. We mean the integrity of impression ade by manifold natural objects. It is this hich distinguishes the stick of timber of the ood-cutter, from the tree of the poet. The harming landscape which I saw this morning, is dubitably made up of some twenty or thirty rms. Miller owns this field, Locke that, and Ianning the woodland beyond. But none of em owns the landscape. There is a property the horizon which no man has but he whose ye can integrate all the parts, that is, the poet. his is the best part of these men's farms, yet › this their warranty-deeds give no title. nature. Most persons do not see the least they have a very superficial see sun illuminates only the eye of the shines into the eye and the heart of The lover of nature is he whose inwar ward senses are still truly adjusted to e who has retained the spirit of infancy the era of manhood. His intercourse w and earth, becomes part of his daily the presence of nature, a wild de through the man, in spite of real sorr ture says, he is my creature, and his impertinent griefs, he shall be glad Not the sun or the summer alone, but and season yields its tribute of delight hour and change corresponds to and a different state of the mind, from breat to grimmest midnight. Nature is a se fits equally well a comic or a mourn In good health, the air is a cordial of virtue. Crossing a bare common, in dles, at twilight, under a clouded sky having in my thoughts any occurrence good fortune, I have enjoyed a perfec tion. I am glad to the brink of fea woods too, a man casts off his yea snake his slough, and at what period e, is always a cnua. al youth. Within these plantations of God, a ecorum and sanctity reign, a perennial festival dressed, and the guest sees not how he should re of them in a thousand years. In the woods, e return to reason and faith. There I feel that othing can befall me in life, no disgrace, no alamity, (leaving me my eyes,) which nature nnot repair. Standing on the bare ground, — y head bathed by the blithe air, and uplifted in the woods, is perpet to infinite space, all mean egotism vanishes. become a transparent eye-ball; I am nothing; see all; the currents of the Universal Being rculate through me; I am part or parcel of od. The name of the nearest friend sounds en foreign and accidental: to be brothers, to e acquaintances, master or servant, is then a ifle and a disturbance. I am the lover of unontained and immortal beauty. In the wilderess, I find something more dear and connate an in streets or villages. In the tranquil landcape, and especially in the distant line of the orizon, man beholds somewhat as beautiful as s own nature. The greatest delight which the fields and woods inister, is the suggestion of an occult relation etween man and the vegetable. I am not alone nd unacknowledged. They nod to me, and I ס'..." storm, is new to me and old. It take surprise, and yet is not unknown. Its like that of a higher thought or a better coming over me, when I deemed I was justly or doing right. Yet it is certain that the power to pro delight, does not reside in nature, but in in a harmony of both. It is necessar these pleasures with great temperand nature is not always tricked in holid but the same scene which yesterday perfume and glittered as for the froli nymphs, is overspread with melanchol Nature always wears the colors of t To a man laboring under calamity, the his own fire hath sadness in it. Then a kind of contempt of the landscape fe who has just lost by death a dear frie sky is less grand as it shuts down over l in the population. CHAPTER II. COMMODITY. WHOEVER considers the final cause of the world, will discern a multitude of uses that enter s parts into that result. They all admit of eing thrown into one of the following classes: Commodity; Beauty; Language; and Discipline. Under the general name of commodity, I rank ll those advantages which our senses owe to ature. This, of course, is a benefit which is emporary and mediate, not ultimate, like its ervice to the soul. Yet although low, it is perect in its kind, and is the only use of nature hich all men apprehend. The misery of man ppears like childish petulance, when we explore he steady and prodigal provision that has been made for his support and delight on this green all which floats him through the heavens. What angels invented these splendid ornaments, nese rich conveniences, this ocean of air above, his ocean of water beneath, this firmament of arth between? this zodiac of lights, this tent f dropping clouds, this striped coat of climates, |