If, from the parts, we ascend to the great whole; or, from contemplating some of the lower stories, we pass to a comprehensive view of the vast fabric of the universe, what a system of wonders rises to declare the glory and handy-work of the supreme Architect! Who can behold an immense multitude of lucid orbs, each of them _a world_, suspended in the vast expanse, without any visible support; some of them fixed to their stations, though of prodigious magnitude; while others, with a velocity hardly credible, perform their revolutions, and move in their orbits, with the nicest observance of the space and time allotted to them;—who, I say, can observe this wonderful machinery, without acknowledging a present DEITY? What is the firmament of heaven, but a golden alphabet, that in capital letters, which all the world may read, deciphers the name, and displays the perfections, of the all-wise God? Who can view the sun, in his azure “tabernacle,” that fairest and brightest image of his Creator, “coming forth as a bridegroom out of his chamber, and rejoicing as a strong man to run his race,” without confessing in him, the most glorious witness to the existence of that God who gave him to be the cheerer of this nether world, and appointed his “circuit,” Psal. xix. 6, which he has punctually performed for thousands of years? Or who can contemplate the moon, the silver lamp of night, and all the stars that glitter in her train, and not hear the silent yet emphatic eloquence with which they publish the praises of their great Original?— “For ever singing as they shine, The hand that made us, is divine!”