Descend, in short, as low, or rise as high as we may, in the scale of being, we will still find something inferior, something superior; and not more remote from each other in the extreme points are the minims of nature intimated to us by the microscope, and the magnificent systems above which the telescope has disclosed to view, than are the wonderful differences and infinite range subsisting among living organized substances, from the vegetable to the animal, from the irrational to the intellectual, and from the intellectual to the spiritual and divine. But one class cannot complain of the superior advantages of the class above it. The constitutions of all are precisely adapted to their respective places in the scheme of things, and the desires of all, according to their various capacities, are suitably gratified. Each is happy in its sphere, and still subservient to the higher happiness of others. The garden is the insect’s paradise, man is lord of the brute creation, angels are principalities and powers when compared to the knowledge and the happiness of man. “Consider,” says the author of “Paradise Lost,” “that great Or bright infers not excellence: the earth Though, in comparison of heaven, so small, Nor glistering, may of solid good contain More plenty than the sun that barren shines: Whose virtue on itself works no effect, But on the fruitful earth.” When we turn to the _dispensations of providence_, we find the same principle prevailing in the communication of all its gifts—of them all, whether evolved in the natural or moral course of events. The many blessings which the mere diffusion of the solar rays imparts are not obtained all at once; the early dawn, the meridian splendor, the softening shades of twilight, are each accompanied with distinct and peculiar enjoyments to man and beast. Observe the course of the seasons: after winter come the gentle zephyrs of spring, the glowing heat of summer, to be again succeeded by the rich though milder beams of autumn. The seed which is deposited in the ground scarcely at first exhibits signs of life; but from that seed the green stalk gradually ascends, the ear is formed, the corn is produced in the ear, and man gathers from it his daily bread. Behold the new-born infant—the most helpless and imbecile of all nature’s productions—what labor, watchfulness, and care, before he comes to the maturity of manhood! how slowly do the powers of intellect expand! what diligence requisite for the moral culture of the heart! how gradual and progressive the whole steps by which he has been trained for the business and enterprises of life! Look now into the crowded city, where thousands and tens of thousands of rational beings have passed, and are all passing, through a similar process of discipline; consider how many generations have passed away before it attained to its present greatness; its wealth, its buildings, its schools