Minute philosophers, and men who value themselves upon what they call a liberal and enlarged way of thinking, may imagine, that this is no more than a religious dream; and argue, from present appearances, that "all things happen alike unto all men, and that there is but one event to the righteous and to the wicked, to him that serveth GOD, and to him that serveth him not." But the Heaven-taught philosopher, whose inward eye is illuminated from above, can see into the secret springs, by which the vast machine is perpetually kept in motion, and by which all the infinite variety of workings in intelligent and inanimate nature, are rendered subservient to the Glory of GOD, and the final consummation of his eternal plan in the supreme felicity of his creatures. By virtue of that heavenly euphrasy with which his visual ray is purged and cleansed, he sees, and is intimately convinced, that notwithstanding the frequent vicissitudes with which the life of a good man is sadly checquered, he is nevertheless "like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; that his leaf also doth not wither, and whatsoever he doth shall prosper." There is a peculiar beauty and propriety in this similitude, and every part of it bears a wonderful analogy to that spiritual life, into which fallen man hath been reinstated by the MEDIATION OF THE SON OF GOD. Man, by turning his will from his Maker, lost that paradisiacal glory, in which he was originally created; and found nothing left, in its stead, but a wrathful spirit within, and a dark disordered world without. By this act of his own will, he transplanted his nature, if I may so speak, from the delightful garden of Eden, in which the ALMIGHTY had placed him, into the midst of a thorny barren desart. He deprived it of all that nourishment it received from those waters of life, which surrounded the blissful spot; and, in consequence, it must have been parched up and have withered away, had not DIVINE LOVE affectionately interposed, and put him once more into a capacity of recovering his lost inheritance, and regaining the vital streams, by which alone his heavenly nature could be preserved and cherished. It is true, man still continues in the desart of fallen nature: the first Adam is still condemned to till the ground from whence he was taken. But the second Adam, the LORD from Heaven, hath caused those rivers of water, which are solely at his disposal, to flow through the dry and comfortless waste, that "the wilderness and solitary place might thereby be made glad, and the desart rejoice and blossom like the rose."