g in the utmost profusion
at his feet--peeping at early spring from beneath the lately fallen
snow, an earnest that life yet remains under the clods of apparently
exhausted nature--their continued offerings through the long and sultry
days of summer; the trees putting on their rich and glowing robes at
autumn, ripening for their restoration to the bosom which gave them life
and which yielded them to us for a season, clothing all the hills,
valleys, and mountains with the gorgeous colors from 'nature's royal
laboratory.' Who can say this beauty and this pleasure are for nought?
The intelligence which observes and loves these sights hesitates not,
nor can it be deterred from reflecting upon their Source. The farmer,
turning the sod with the plough, and dropping the grain into the newly
turned furrow, expects life amid the decay of the clod. The favorable
sunshine and shower, the gentle dews and heat of summer bring forth,
after a partial decay of the seed, the blade, the ear, and after that
the full corn in the ear. The perfume of the newly turned earth
exhilarates and refreshes the spirits of the laborer and what appears
the hardest work becomes a welcome task. Toil here has its immediate
recompense. Always peaceful, always contented and cheerful, always kind,
there is no want of companions whose presence is delightful and never
burdensome. The oriole, the swallow, the sparrow, the cawing crow, the
chipmuck, or the squirrel will not desert him. He can always rely upon
their presence while engaged in the necessary preparation for the
harvest. The flowers are with him, and the perfume from the blossoms in
the fields and orchard will fall like incense upon his receptive spirit.
His thoughts will turn involuntarily to the Origin of all Good, from
which have come to him, in so great abundance, the favorable conditions
for happiness and peace.

Contemplating in silence and alone, away from the distractions of busy
life in cities, the disappointments of politics, and the petty
disturbances and quarrels of a more crowded existence, his thoughts
become pure, holy, and sacred.

The tree grows slowly but surely beside his door, under whose shadows he
has rested at the close of the summer's day, and, with his family about
him, reflected upon his finished labors, and planned the work for
to-morrow. The wonderful power of the Creator, and the matchless
argument for His existence, as displayed in the beauty of the heavens,
are spread