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SERMON XV.

ON THE HARVEST.

PSALM 1XV. 12, 13, 14.

THOU CROWNEST THE YEAR WITH THY GOODNESS: AND THY CLOUDS DROP FATNESS. THEY SHALL DROP UPON THE DWELLINGS OF THE WILDERNESS : AND THE LITTLE HILLS SHALL REJOICE ON EVERY SIDE. THE FOLDS SHALL BE FULL OF SHEEP THE VALLEYS ALSO SHALL STAND SO THICK WITH CORN, THAT THEY SHALL LAUGH, AND SING.

WHO that has eyes to see, a mind to understand, a heart to feel, the bountiful goodness of our God, can doubt His overseeing Providence? Through His Almighty power the changing seasons revisit mankind, fertilizing the Earth in their regular progress ; and causing it to break forth into abundance.

Yet, strange to say, there have been men weak, and wicked, enough to endeavour to

persuade others, that chance alone created the Universe; and that to chance we are indebted for all the blessings of existence.Daily experience contradicts the latter assertion; because the fields will not produce the expected crop without due labour, care, and cultivation chance has, therefore, no part in the return of the harvest. And as to the former argument, if argument that deserves to be called, which consists only in assertion ; if all this Universe was created, or called into existence accidentally, how happens it that the different climates have continued the same, each in their respective portions of the Earth, for near six thousand years ?

In all that length of time, a period beyond our comprehension, short as is our allotted life; the sun has daily risen, " rejoicing as a giant to run his course," and daily enlightening Creation. In all the nights of all those revolving years, the silent moon, shining in mild lustre, like the gracious mercy of God Himself; Yes! more than two millions of times has the moon, already, shed her light in that period of our lives, wherein "He giveth His beloved sleep."

Thus, in the coolness of the night, refreshed

by the evening dew, that seed is growing towards perfection; which the careful hand of man has scattered on his well-ploughed land, during the interesting labours of the day.Thus does the daily warmth of the sun, drawing up the mists of the ground, which, like an expanded curtain, hid the varied beauties of Creation; thus does the daily sun fertilize, and cherish, the seed committed to the Earth, and ripen all her fruits: thus does the sun display its mighty Maker's hand, filling all things living with plenteousness.

At that glorious moment, when bursting through the rosy clouds, whose glowing tints, and golden edges, announce its glad return; the sun displays its animating light: hear the great universal sound of praise break forth from every creature but mankind! The cattle roam the meads, cheering each other with their calls; the birds sing on every bush; and the lark aspires to heaven, calling upon man, in her delightful strains, to join her song of praise.

At that joyful moment how does the soul of the believer rejoice, when he beholds the wondrous scenes around him; scenes ever beautiful, ever new, at that hour, when uni

versal nature wakes from sleep, and rises up from darkness.

Then does he think of the time when first the World arose from gloomy chaos; "when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy." Then does he remember that awful day, the last of all our days, when this Earth, and these Heavens, shall be burnt with eternal fire; when there shall be no sun, no moon, or stars, while all mankind shall come to judgment. And when time shall be no more, eternity, a glorious eternity, will begin; wherein the Majesty of the Everlasting God shall be our only light; a light before whose eternal brightness even the sun itself is dark!

And while the Christian yet beholds that sun, as from some eminence his healthful early walk enables him to enjoy the far-spreading prospect all around; then bursts from his heart this grateful song of praise. Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts! Heaven and Earth are full of the Majesty of Thy Glory!"

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Well, indeed, may we rejoice in beholding this daily assurance of our future resurrection from the sleep of the grave, this type of the eternal glory reserved for all believers! When

we behold this material sun, which shone on the ministry of our Redeemer Jesus of Nazareth; which hid its head in darkness at His Crucifixion; which shone brightly on the third day when He arose again from the dead: which beheld His Ascension into Heaven; and shall pay its last homage to Him, its God, at the awful day, the last day, the day of our Redemption.

"Thou shalt show us wonderful things in Thy righteousness, O God of our Salvation: Thou that art the hope of all the ends of the earth, and of them that remain in the broad "Thou visitest the earth, and blessest

sea.

it: Thou makest it very plenteous.”

David is the poet of Nature, glorifying God in His works; and the Psalms abound with delightful pastoral images drawn from her ever open book. These pastoral allusions are soothing, and grateful, to all men': not only to those whose daily occupations are in the rich scenes of rural peace, and plenty; but also to the inhabitants of crowded cities, where necessity, arts, or commerce, have gathered together the children of men.

In the first mornings of Creation, those ever regretted days of innocence and peace, Adam

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