It has ever seemed strange, to our poor conception, how one encircled by the mystery of existence; under the deep, heavenly firmament; 'waited on by the four golden seasons, with their vicissitudes of contribution, could believe in the blind doctrine of chance, in creation, or annihilation after death. A kind correspondent once sent us from abroad, a new year's sermon by Edward Irving, that brilliant but transient light, who 'fell like a meteor from the bosom of splendor into the grave of thick night; like an eagle smitten down in a too near approach to the sun.' He heard the discourse delivered at Irving's chapel, when he was in the zenith of his glory; and declared that the appearance and manner of the speaker would never fade from his memory; his large flashing eye, that seemed to burn in his noble front; the black, flowing hair that swept his broad shoulders, and by contrast lighted up his pale features with the ghastly hue of death; his long arm and attenuate hand, employed in action, graceful, and yet so energetic, as to have the appearance of throwing his words, and the burning thoughts they embodied, into the very hearts of his hearers. Let the doubter of God's providence and power peruse the annexed extract. Its connection has not been preserved; but it will be, we think, sufficiently complete:
'Take up a handful of dust and ashes, and there behold the materials out of which the Lord God Almighty fashioned man—this living form of man, so quick and pregnant with all sensual and spiritual feeling. And if you would know the kindness which your father hath put forth in the works of his hands, look to the tribes, from the worm to the lion, all made of as good materials; in size, strength, fleetness, and durability, surpassing man. But, where is their counsel? where is their government? where is their knowledge? where is their religion? which of them has any fellowship with God, or reasonable intercourse with one another? The other creatures are but the outward endowments of man's senses, to clothe, to feed, to lay the lusty shoulder to his burden, to carry him about, to watch over him in sleep, and to minister in other ways to his entertainment.
'And what is the earth whereon you tread, and which spreads its flowery carpet beneath your feet? And what are its various fruits, with their varieties to sustain, to refresh, and to cherish human life, the corn, the wine, and the oil? And what the recurring seasons of divided time; the budding spring, the flowery summer, the joyful vintage, the lusty harvest; and the homely, well-provided winter? And what the cheerful outgoings of morn, and dewy eve, and balmy sleep, and blessed action? What are these all, but the sweet cradle and the blessed condition into which our Father hath brought us, his children? Is there nothing fatherly in all this; in the costly preparation and gladsome welcoming of our coming: and in the motherly boom of plentiful affection and food stored for us? and in the fruitful dwelling places to which we are born? Is it nothing, that the range of our mansion is to the starry heaven, and not cooped within the incumbrance of a narrow shell? Is it nothing, that the heavens drop down fatness upon us, and that the river of God's bounty watereth all the garden where we dwell; rather than that we should have griped the rock for our bed, or found our birth place in the oozy channels of the deep?
'Let us praise our heavenly Father, that he hath made us with more understanding than the beasts of the field, with more wisdom than the fowls of heaven; that he hath made us a little lower than the angels, and crowned us with glory and honor, and made as to have dominion over the works of his hands, and hath put all things under our feet; all sheep and oxen, yea, and the beasts of the field, and the fowls of the air, and the fish of the sea. 'Lord, what is man, that thou art mindful of him, and the son of man, that thou visitest him?' Look upon the treatment you have received at the hand of your Creator, and say if it doth not speak him more than fatherly in his love and carefulness? Our bread hath been provided, our water hath been sure; we have been protected from the summer's smiting heat, and from the winter's blasting cold. The damps of the night have not settled chill upon our raiment, nor hath the pestilence which wasteth at noonday blown its deadly blast across our path. The Lord hath been the length of our days, and the strength of our life, from our youth up to this day. He hath surrounded us with lovely children, to stand in our room when we are gone; and he hath given us a house and habitation among men, and he hath found us in the sight of men more favors than we have deserved. Hath be not hidden your faults from the knowledge of men? Hath he not been very tender to your reputation, which, by a turn of his providence, he could have blasted? Hath he not restrained the wrath of your enemies? No sword hath come up against us; no famine hath pinched our borders; no plague, nor pestilence, nor blasting winds have bitten us; no weapons formed against our liberties have ever prospered! Another year hath told out its months and seasons; but each day hath brought our necessary meals and luxurious entertainments; and each night hath brought its refreshment of dewy sleep; each sabbath hath its rest and blessed ministry of salvation. The heavens have dropped down fatness on our tabernacles. Very pleasant are our dwelling-places, and the places where our lines have fallen, be very good.'
