Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1843-06-30

madly upon the shore, seemingly attempt
ing to ape the swelling surges of the sea.
And while gaze upon the stately vessel
the gallant schooner, or the gay and nmble |
sloop, as they spread their sails and proudly
fly before the wind, burying their keel in the |
foamng water or when my attention is at
tracted to a more striking oblect--a creature
of less ancient origin, but mightler power
when behold the gay "iron horse" fleet
and untring, of more than Trojan size aud
courage sides of copper, his sinews
steel, his provender fire, and the blood of
whose veins is the colorless, irrepresslble va
por--as he sis off" upon land, with an in
cessant clatter of hoof upon the iron track \
or away with his countless and qnick-revolv-
ing feet, upon the deep and painless water,
heching forth the excrescence of his fury
and power, from his "nosris all wide"
when behold all these mighty engines of
speed, power and profit; compare them with
the untutored Indians rude and fragile bark
and learn from thence the progress Of civil
ization, and Imagine what still greater pro-
gress and greater perfection in the arts and
: sciences may accomplish for man; am
struck no less with establishment and adm-
ration at the complete adaptation of all the
elements and powers of nature, to subserve
; the interests of political and domestic econ
omy, than with pleasure and delight at the
beauties Of her face and the melody Of her
voice And | love the Providence that did
not forget, and the nature that does not fail
: to supply all the wants of man. To the sal
lor, she furnishes sea and ship to the far
mer, field merchandise TO the merchant;
and to the student and scholar, a study and
: library, an observatory and cnbinet, all, at
once the most extensive and convenient, the
cheapest and best, that can be enjoyed or
wished.
But does the soul love to indulge in calm
: er contemplation Would it Withdraw IT,
: self from the busy scenes of the day and of
= life, and hold either communion with itself,
j or correspondence with nature, when she is
! the midest and yet the most. magnificent
Leave the workshop or the parlor, the noisy
: throng or crowded village; and in the calm-
u ness and serenity of a summers eve, when,
beneath the western hills, the golden sun
. sinks gently to rest, and the hour oftwllIght
clothes the scene in its sombre and Elusive
garb and as you wander on the banks OF
5 the silent river, or along the purling stream,
u or across the tuited lawn, let the mind turn
) in upon itself and study its own nature-the
u phenomena of its being and action, its Tden-
y, THY and consciousness, its powers and pro-
gress, aud all its internal and external afiec-
= tons Or if this be a subject too abstract,
l. let it turn back upon the day and upon life,
that it may review the history of the past,
e and gather lesson Of experience and WIS
l. dom for the present. Or let it reach for
r, ward and ken, as far as lies in the power OF
d mortal, the vast and iimitabe future, that
81 il may be led to consider its own prospects,
Is and prepare the way for realizing and en-
d Toying its own high aspirations and glorious
: immortality.
i And how delightful, after such media.
% tions, will be our return, if, while the mellow
d moonbeams are sleeping on the plain, OF
u dimly disclosing the merry skif on the
$, breast of the river, the sound of whose oars
III breaks with sweet music on the ears, we are
D. charmed with the various and not inharmo
', Nous notes that are waited to our ears, or
81 every breeze, from the Heterogeneous and
lie almost nnumerable tribes of insects that i'll
n habit the shore and the field; "while eyei
ie and anon is heard the melancholy plant o
H. the whippoorwiI, who, perched on some
st lone tree, wearies the ear Of night with it
a. ncessant mornings"
lg And while nature makes every subject o
ID truth, duty and innocent pleasure, the them'
of her discourse; she adapts herself also Il
IS every rank and station in life, every orde
OF of intellect, and every stage ofimprovement
al In accordance with her, the successful alb
to stracting philosopher is moved and governed
e' in all his speculations and deductions. In
spred by her muse, the poet rises on the sa
fest wing and sings the sweetest strain. Sh
re is the great prototype of the artist; the tails
IL man of the orator and the students teach
mt err. But to the intelligent and contempla
a. tive Christian, she is more than either, or al
he of these combined He feels the full fore
g of all her appeals and rightly values all he
ne instructions. In the tinsel wing of ever
ge insect, the gaudy plumage of every bird i
nd the rustic of the leaf and the rush of tn
re breeze; in the mine and meadow, the ten
re pest and Storm in the ocean dark, and tn
yn heavens arched azure-colored aud bespar
k gIed with stars in all the earth, and all tn
he vast expanse above and around him, h
g hears the united voice of Nature and {
st, God, addressing him in tones of eloqnenc'
m and with a spirit and pathos, of which III
IA. schools are ignorant, and beyond the powt
Did of art to attain
le- BY calm and constant contemplation {
he her works, the mind is quickened and Ell
ok larged the affections are refined and e
N banded, and the soul made to rise,
nd "And look through Nature up to Natures God ;
l. Man is made more sensible of the endle
we relations that he sustains to all that is aroun
n above and beyond him. His soul is impress
in ed with their variety and Importance. Il
The sees, at once, how high, how low. how grea