The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1896-08-15


signed solely and expressly for our
pleasure.
This is our theme just now,-the
manifold objects which God has
made for our pleasure merely, above
all the demands of necessity. The
goodness of parent is justified when
he provides all that is useful and in
dispensable for his child; but how
many things he bestows upon that
child, for his special qualification,
which are not needful at all. If we
set out upon this course of thought,
language will confess its inadequacy
to measure the miracles of his inf
nifty" 1.-THE little drops which run
over, though they be not much in
themselves, vet they tell that the yes
sci is full, and can express the great
ness of the shower no otherwise but
by spilling, and in artificial express
sions and trimmings over" (Jeremy
Taylor) Our cup runneth over.
Sometimes we fall into depression,
when we can hardly see that any
thing good remaineth; we travel from
Dan to Beersheba and say that it is
all barren, but if we only had an eye
to discern what is good and beauti-
full, we should be astonished at the
exuberance and profusion with which
our Maker has furnished and decor
ated the world we live in. There are
some people, good in their way, who
never hear the word "beauty" without
a revulsion, and taste is something to
be looked upon with suspicion. 1t
is, indeed, greatly to be lamented
that beauty and taste have so often
been perverted by irreligious associa-
tons; but did it never occur to per-
sons of such temper to wonder why
God has lavished such profuseness of
beauty in all his works? He has not
left the walls and the rafters of the
earth bare and sightless, but has dec
Grated them all over with divine skill,
and the attributes of our Maker seem
not to have reached the region of
highest joy till, passing the rugged
acts of necessity, they disport in the
free play of affluent generosity.
Let us not initiate Baltic Jarvie,
who could not look upon sparkling
lake without pronouncing it pity
that so much good soil should lie
useless under the water; who never
could see wood, without computing
how much lumber it would make; or
a moss covered rock, without fore
casting how much building stone it
would turn out; or a cataract like
Terni or Niagara, without satisfying
himself how much water-power it
would supply for manufacturing.
There are the flowers, wee things,
clad in glory which shames the robes
and regalia of kings. There was no
necessity for their brilliant beauties,
or their luxurious perfume; but God
has scattered them with a liberal
hand all over the earth, precisely as
you hang a gem on the person of
your child, simply and solely for her
special qualification.
God might have made the earth bring forth
Enough for great and small,
The Oak-tree and the cedar-tree,
Without a flower at all.
We might have had enough, enough
For every want of ours,
For luxury, medicine and toll,
And yet have had no flowers.
The ore within the mountain mine
Requireth none to grow,
Nor doth 1t need the lotus-fower
To make the river flow.
The clouds might give abundant rain,
The nightly dews might fall,
And the herb which keepeth life in mad
Mightyet have drunk them all.
Then wherefore, wherefore, were they made,
All dyed with rainbow light.
All fashioned with supremest grace,
Upsprlnging day and night;
Springing in valleys green and low.
And on the mountain high,
And in the silent wilderness
Where no man passes by?
Our outward life requires them not
Then wherefore had they birth?
To minister delight to man,
To beautify the earth.
Distrust and dependency there
cannot be, when one has taught his
eye to read the beautiful lesson of the
flowers; for thus it runneth: "He
that careth enough for me to bestow
such inimitable luxuries, surely will
not withhold what is absolutely nee
essary."
So of the fruits, SO pleasant to the
eye and to the taste. God might
have withheld them all, and yet no
imputation be cast upon his gener-
osity. The commonest esculent nee
essary for subsistence cannot grow
without its blossom; as if beauty in
variably waited on utility. The
homely potato cannot begin its un'