This sings not of power and wisdom alone, but
more complex and rich in adoration, sings of goodness also. God has not
made the world for a dead spectacle and mere picture for His own eye. How
full and crowded with life, and happy life, His creation is! Go forth from
inclosing city walls, and, in the summer noontide, stop in solitude and
apparent silence and listen; and soon the sounds of this joyous life shall
come to your ear: the chirp of the insects--the rustle of wings--the
crackling of the leaves, as the blithesome airy creatures pass--the short,
thick warble of the bird by your side, or its varied tune, clearer than
viol or organ, from the thicket beyond--while, from time to time, the deep
low of cattle reverberates from afar. Or if you are where the still and
speechless creatures inhabit, open your eye to gaze and examine, and it
shall be filled with the visible, as the ear with the vocal signs of
living enjoyment. Walking at the edge of the ebbing tide, you tread on
life at every step--shelly tribe on tribe of fish pressing together, while
in the clear water, other tribes noiselessly swim and glide away. Every
vital motion speaks of pleasure, whether in that restless current below,
or in the air above, as the feathered songster passes, darting up and down
his element, delight gushing from his throat at every buoyant
spring--silence and sound, with double demonstration, declaring to the
Creator's praise the great and limitless boon of life.
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