jects for our meditation :-First, the sublime scenery to which the Psalmist here adverts,— "When I consider thy heavens," &c.; secondly, the important question which the Psalmist here proposes," What is man?" and, thirdly, the pleasing fact which the Psalmist here affirms,"Thou art mindful of him," &c. 1. THE SUBLIME SCENERY TO WHICH THE PSALMIST HERE ADVERTS." When I consider," &c. Creation is a medium through which we may look at its great and glorious Author; it is an elegant and curiously-figured veil, through which we may dimly perceive the Divine perfections. All created things speak to us of God: "For the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead," Rom. i. 20. The magnificence of sunset is succeeded by another scene, as sublime and glorious, if not as gorgeous. When the fiery orb of day has set in the western skygone to his rest, "like a king upon a couch of gold;" ere the last lingering ray retires, evening, glittering with heaven's rich jewellery approaches; and night, wearing her sparkling diadem of planets and of stars, takes her allotted place in the earth's revolution; while in lucid lovliness the "Queen of night" moves amid the starry host, robed in beaming but borrowed silver. No scene is calculated to produce such deep impressions upon the heart, elevating yet most gentle. How delightful at the midnight hour to steal away from the haunts of men, and, seated on some mossy bank or flower-decked knoll, undisturbed by the noisy bustle of the world, to gaze on those glorious sparklers. As we survey the azure arch, glowing with living fires, we may kindle the flame of devotion at those celestial altars, and beneath their brightness offer praise to God. The heavens form God's great album, in which we may read sublime paragraphs of heavenly wisdom; the suns are the flaming syllables, and the stars are the golden letters by which he registers his name and exhibits "his handiwork." 66 66 "The Stars!"-What brightness and beauty, majesty and mystery are implied in the name; they are," says one, the first objects next to the faces of relatives and the sun, which attract the eyes of children, who send up their sweetest smiles, and uplift their tiny hands as if to pluck down those bright orbs for playthings." "The Stars!"-They are loved by lonely shepherds, who as they watch their bleating flocks by the light of those distant lamps, cannot but admire them in their glistening beauty. "The Stars!"-they are precious to the weather-beaten mariner, for as his frail bark is tossed on the billows, and he listens with alarm to the creaking timbers and the howling storm, many an anxious glance does he cast to those glorious sparklers. "The Stars!"-they enrapture the astronomer, for he holds pleasing converse with them through the medium of his telescope, watches their motions and learns their peculiar laws. "The Stars!"-They are dear to the poet, for he kindles his spirit at their watch-fires, and snatches many a live coal of inspiration from their burning altars. "The Stars!"-they are soothing to the sorrowful, for as they shed their golden gleam through the cottage lattice, or the garden bower, the pale mourner feels as if they sympathised with her in her sadness. "The Stars!"-Their flashing beauty charms the christian, for he sees in them the work of his Father's hands, and also remembers the service one of them rendered to the "wise men of the east," when its directing beam guided their feet to where the infant Saviour lay. "The Stars!"-"They are admired by all who have eyes to see, understandings to comprehend, and souls to feel their grandeur so unspeakable, their silence so profound, their separation so entire, their multitude so immense, their order so regular, their lustre so brilliant, their forms so singular, and their motions so majestic and calm." Who can gaze on the silvery sheen of this star-lighted dome, and not sympathise with the poet as he sings "Tis midnight on the mountains brown, The cold, round moon shines deeply down; The thoughtful observer of the fixed stars is struck with their immense and almost immea surable distance. We all know that every visible object appears less in magnitude as it recedes from the eye. The stately vessel, with all her sails unfurled to the breeze, is a noble object as she glides away from the pier; we watch her as she proudly breasts the wave; away, away she glides, until at length she appears but a dim speck on the verge of the horizon: that vessel is no less, she only appears so. The eagle, with its glorious plumage and outstretched pinions, is a noble object as it floats above us; but it soars up, and up, dips its wing in the blue of heaven, bathes in the beams of the noonday sun, and at length appears but a dim, dark spot on the blue vault above that eagle is no less, it only appears so. Just so the twinkling stars appear small to us only because of their immense distance. "When we speak of hundreds of millions of miles it is not to be listened to as incredible," for we are talking of those rolling masses of flame, which are scattered over the immensity of space, and that space has no bound, no limit, no termination. "Examine the scale on which the universe is built," says the eloquent Mitchell, "comprehend, if you can, the vast dimensions of our sun. Stretch outward, from planet to planet, and circumscribe the whole within the immense circumference of Neptune's orbit. This is but a single unit out of the myriads of similar systems. Take the wings of light, and flash with impetuous speed, day and night, and month and year, till youth shall wear away, and the middle age is gone, and the utmost limit of human life has been attained; count every pulse, and at each speed on your way a hundred thousand miles; and when a hundred years have rolled by, look out, and behold the thronging millions of blazing suns are still around you, each separated from the other by such a distance, that in this journey of a century you have only left half-ascore behind you." How astounding! What ponderous masses of matter! What gigantic globes of light! And yet the Psalmist says they are "the work of God's fingers!" What a mighty hand, to make, move, and launch those ponderous globes! Would you form a faint idea of God's infinite power? Then weigh this world of ours: count all the busy beings that ever breathed upon its surface, unite their strength into one single individual, and let this mighty million-armed man attempt to move the world; he could not stir it a single inch in a thousand years, and yet God has hurled it from his hand, and it is flying at the fearful rate of a thousand miles every minute! And this is but a mere atom, a faint speck, amidst his immense mass of rolling worlds. Seated on his sapphire throne, "high and lifted up," and girdled by the glorified, he sees, at a glance, every lamp that he has lighted; at his bidding, those ever-burning flames fly onward with flashing beauty in their appointed courses. His majestic arm guides the millions of blazing suns, and around his throne circles the sweeping constellations of countless systems; "all is perfect and harmonious, and the music of the spheres that burn and roll around our sun is echoed by that of ten millions of moving worlds, |