New Hampshire Statesman

SUMMER.—There are principles of our constitution, which lead us from the observation of the material world, to the contemplation of the mind that formed it, and which, from the spectacle of beauty, conducts us to Him "who has made every thing beautiful in his time.' There are uses too, of no mean importance to happiness, to virtue, and to piety, which meditations of this kind are fitted to serve; and there is no way in which the young can better learn the sentiments of devotion, or the old preserve them, than in cultivating those habits of thought and of observation, which convert nature into the temple of God, and render all its different scenes expressive of the various attributes of the Almighty Mind.

Every age in this view, has left the analogy which subsists between the seasons of the year, and the character and duties of men. There is, in the revolutions of time, a kind of warning voice which summons us to thought and reflection; and every season, as it arises, speaks to us of the analogous character which we ought to maintain.— From the first openings of the spring, to the last desolation of winter, the days of the year are emblematic of the state, and of the duties of man; and whatever may be the period of our journey, we can scarcely look up into the heavens, and mark the path of the sun, without feeling something either to animate us upon our course, or to reprove us for our delay.

It is now the pride and glory of the year. The "winter is over & gone," —the spring has again unlocked all the annual promises of nature—the earth around us is every where covered with plenteousness and beauty—and the sun is pursuing, like a giant, his "course through the Heavens," and dispensing light and life over the world beneath him. Are there no reflections which such a spectacle inspires? Are there no classes of men, of whose character and duties this season is descriptive? And are there no moral lessons which they, who love the Lord, may gather from that sun which now goeth forth in his might?

It is not, in the first place, emblematic to us, of the maturity of human life, and of the virtues which that season ought to display? To those of that age, the spring, with all its weakness, and all its dangers is past; an unseen arm hath conducted them through the dawn of their infant journey, and led them on to that mighty stage, where the honors of time and eternity are to be won. Whatever may be the station or condition in which they are placed, there is yet to all some simple and evident duty, which they are called to perform—some course which they are summoned to run; and what is far more, however narrow may be its bounds, or obscure its situation, there is some sphere to which their influence extends, and in which, like the summer sun, they may diffuse joy and happiness around them. In such seasons, let nature be their instructor; and while they bless the useful light, which pours gladness among the dwellings of men, let them remember that they also were made to bless and to improve. Let them remember that to them have now arisen, the lengthened and the enlightened days of life, when every thing calls them to labor; that the breath of Heaven has ripened all their powers of mind and body into perfection: that there are eyes in Heaven and earth, which look upon the course they are pursuing; and that the honors of time, and the hopes of immortality alike depend upon the use which they make of the summer of their days.

Alas! too, let them remember that the seasons of man have their varieties, like the seasons of nature; and while they look around them, and see the noon of life. (as sometimes they must see it darkened by vice, or by folly, let it warn them of the dangers to which they are also exposed, and prostrate them in prayer before the throne of God, that they may run their course like the sun in his brightness.—Alison's Sermons.