NEW-YORK: _+Printed by JOHN BULL, No. 115, Cherry-Street+, where every Kind of Printing work is executed with the utmost Accuracy and Dispatch.--+Subscriptions+ for this +Magazine+ (at 2s. per month) are taken in at the Printing-Office, and by E. MITCHELL, Bookseller, No. 9, Maiden-Lane._ * * * * * * * * * * * * * * _UTILE DULCI._ THE NEW-YORK WEEKLY MAGAZINE; or, Miscellaneous Repository. +Vol. II.+] +Wednesday, September 7, 1796.+ [+No. 62.+ AN EVENING MEDITATION. Now all is hushed, and nature seems to make a pause; the sun has withdrawn his radiance, yet the gloom from yonder western sky bespeaks him still at hand, promising to return with his reviving warmth, when nature is refreshed with darkness. The moon borrows her light, and bestows it upon us; she arises in silent majesty, humbly waiting to reign when he resigns his throne. No chorus ushers in his reign, no rays pronounce her approach; gently she steals on the world, and sits in silent majesty to view the good she does. She lights the wandering traveller, she warms the earth with gentle heat, she dazzles not the eye of the philosopher, but invites him to view and to admire.---How still is nature! not a breeze! each tree enjoys its shadow undisturbed, the unruffled rivers glide smoothly on reflecting nature’s face; here thro’ this road, by the side of this fair stream, let me steal gently, step by step, wrapped up in future thoughts.--A time will come when earth, and seas, and sun, and stars will be no more----what then will be my thoughts----Think, oh then now!--Think--that time is nothing to eternity, think,----all nature, sun, and earth, and man, and angels are nothing--to thy God.--Think, that thou art to thyself thy all; thyself once lost, nothing can give thee joy or pain from without, but all will be concentered in thy own misery: if happiness be thy lot, then wilt thou be capable of enjoying also the happiness of others, thus redoubling thy own. Oh! my soul, behold yon spangled sky---count the number of the stars----No---thy counting fails, then think on that eternity which awaits thee in another world; think too now, how great is the goodness of God, to grace our little world with beauties to attract the eye and captivate the mind. Beauties by day to cheer, to enliven, to call forth thy active powers, to bustle with the busy, beauties and blessings inviting thee to see, to taste, to smell, to hear.---Beauties too, Oh see, by night, beauties transcendant and glorious; such as draw up the eye to yon vast concave, where the mind’s eye follows in silent wonder, quickly passing from star to star, till struck with the beauty of the whole, it feels “the hand that made it is divine.”