laws from the midst of a bewildering complexity. We would only meet this by the counter assertion, that both the structure of the heavens and that of man's intellect combine in declaring God's glory. The heavens have their glory—man's intellect has its glory; but, like the divided beams of a doubly refracting crystal, they both can be traced to the same source. They meet in the all-wise Creator, who so wondrously adjusted the objective universe to the subjective faculties of man. The vital germ in the seed requires, for its development, certain conditions of light, heat, and moisture; without these, it cannot expand and fulfil its destiny. So, for the education of man's powers, it was necessary that he should be placed in a world which would present to him fit problems for solution, and lofty enough themes to reflect the glory of his Creator. The child at school must work his way upwards from the hornbook to the subtleties of profound scholarship, and so the material universe presents a system of graduated lessons for the training of the human intellect. The various branches of natural history, form an easy hornbook for the beginner, and the problems of physical astronomy try the full compass of the human intellect. It is to the heavens we must point for the most wondrous trophies of man's intellectual powers. God's glory is seen, not by looking at the heavens alone, nor at man's intellect alone, but to the exquisite adjustment of the one to the other. We could readily conceive of in-
