The conviction that the Divine attributes which we are taught by the study of the material world, and those which we learn from the contemplation of man as a responsible agent, belong to the same Divine Being, will be forced upon us, if we consider the manner in which all the parts of the universe, the corporeal and intellectual, the animal and moral, are connected with each other. In each of these provinces of creation we trace refined adaptations and arrangements which lead us to the Creator and Director of so skilful a system; but these provinces are so intermixed, these different trains of contrivance so interwoven, that we cannot, in our thoughts, separate the author of one part from the author of another. The Creator of the Heavens and of the Earth, of the inorganic and of the organic world, of animals and of man, of the affections and the conscience, appears inevitably to be one and the same God. We will pursue this reflection a little more into detail. 1. The _Atmosphere_ is a mere mass of fluid floating on the surface of the ball of the earth; it is one of the inert and inorganic portions of the universe, and must be conceived to have been formed by the same Power which formed the solid mass of the earth and all other parts of the solar system. But how far is the atmosphere from being inert in its effects on organic beings, and unconnected with the world of life! By what wonderful adaptations of its mechanical and chemical properties, and of the vital powers of plants, to each other, are the developement and well-being of plants and animals secured! The creator of the atmosphere must have been also the creator of plants and animals: we cannot for an instant believe the contrary. But the atmosphere is not only subservient to the life of animals, and of man among the rest; it is also the vehicle of voice; it answers the purpose of intercourse; and, in the case of man, of rational intercourse. We have seen how remarkably the air is fitted for this office; the construction of the organs of articulation, by which they are enabled to perform their part of the work, is, as is well known, a most exquisite system of contrivances. But though living in an atmosphere capable of transmitting articulate sound, and though provided with organs fitted to articulate, man would never attain to the use of language, if he were not also endowed with another set of faculties. The powers of abstraction and generalization, memory and reason, the tendencies which occasion the inflexions and combinations of words, are all necessary to the formation and use of language. Are not these parts of the same scheme of which the bodily faculties by which we are able to speak are another part? Has man his mental powers independently of the creator of his bodily frame? To what purpose then, or by what cause was the curious and complex machinery of the tongue, the glottis, the larynx produced? These are useful for speech, and full of