Men tell about "miracles," which prove "the greatness of the Lord " and " His goodness too; " that He was once angry with mankind, and sent a flood, which killed all the living things on earth, from the lowest plant up to the highest man, save only eight men and women and a troop of inferior animals, whom He kept in a great box, which floated for a whole year on this ocean of murder, and then let out the ancestors of all things that now live upon the earth ; that He miraculously confounded the speech of men building a city, and they fled asunder, leaving their abortive work; that He miraculously plagued Egypt with grotesque and awful torments, and by miracle led Israel through a sea of waters closing on their foes, and into a sea of sand, which eat up one generation of the Israelites themselves; nay, that by the ministration of one Hebrew man, continued miracles were wrought for forty years; and then, yet more wonderful, by another, at whose word water was changed to wine, the bread of five sufficed five thousand men, the wanting limb came strong again, the dead returned to life, — nay, at his death, that the very sun stood still, and darkness filled the heavens at high noonday, while the rocks were rent, the graves stood wide, and buried saints came back to light and life. Believe it not! To me such tales are ghastly as Egyptian idols and Hindoo images of God, mixing incongruous limbs of beast and bird and man. In this little leaf there is 'more divinity than in all those monstrous legends, writ in letters or carved out in stone. But the daily wonder of nature, which is no miracle,—that is the actual revelation of God's power and goodness, a diamond of love set in the gold of beauty.
Look all about you! What a ring of handsomeness surrounds the town! What a heaven of loveliness is arched over us! See how earth, air, and water are turning into bread! Out of the ground what daily use and beauty grow! Think of the thousand million men on earth ; the million millions of beast, bird, fish, insect! They all hang on the breasts of Heaven, and are fed by the motherly bounty of infinite perfection. This is a clover blossom at one end of the stalk,—at the other end is God. Yes, all rests in Him, flowers out of Him, lives by Him, leads us to Him. All this material beauty of nature is but
