ing the eye from the bright wake of the moon in the sea. The instant this was done, the majestic pillar vanished, shewing that it was the counterpart of the wake, and merely the effect of contrast. This simple solution did not divest the object of its beauty, and during successive nights the same effect was watched with increased interest, and all tacitly acknowledged that the moon had a use in thus giving a new charm to the ocean scenery, and helping to while away the hours of the long voyage.
The moon has a use, too, in reference to the religious element in man's nature, not merely by furnishing an argument for design but by directly cherishing the religious spirit. Its adaptation to this purpose is shewn in the almost universal adoration paid to this luminary. The idolatry of the heathen is only the perversion of a native instinct of the human heart, and is a testimony to the fact that the object of adoration has a natural tendency, in the pure and enlightened spirit, to lift the heart up to God. When the Psalmist considered the heavens, and contemplated the luminaries in detail, the moon had the first place, as declaring the glory and goodness of God. The moon is the most familiar symbol of God's providence; we feel that she is nearer to us than any other heavenly body, and that her special duty is to wait upon us. She accompanies us like a guardian angel, bearing a lamp before us, in the darkness of the night. She circles round us like the parent bird round the
