we find creeds so various as almost to induce the belief that there was a separate Adam and Eve for each sect. God is accordingly worshipped on most occasions, rather as the God of mountains and plains, and rivers, than as the God of the human race. But we worship Him to-day as "the father of us all." Our common brotherhood is recognized, our common obligations are confessed, our common dependence is admitted, and our praises no longer uttered by discordant tongues, harmoniously unite in the ancient song, "Make a joyful noise unto the Lord all ye lands. Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, and into His courts with praise."

1. The duty of thanksgiving arises from the nature of man. It is the expression of gratitude. Suppose, my friends, that when God created Adam, he had neither given him a heart to feel, nor a tongue to speak, could he have claimed from man in such a case the language and sentiments of gratitude? He would have produced a being as incapable of acknowledging his power and goodness as the beasts which roamed the groves of paradise. But it is fortunate that it is otherwise; that man is intensely susceptible of attachment to his benefactor; that his affections respond to kindness like harpstrings to the touch; that he has feelings of admiration for the beautiful, and feelings of awe for the sublime. Being thus qualified to be grateful, that he ought to be so is sufficiently apparent, because God intimates by the nature of his gifts, how he would have them employed. The design of our affections is as plain as that of our limbs, and it would be as absurd to say that a man with a heart was not intended to feel as that a man with feet was not intended to walk. Another proof that the duty of thanksgiving arises from the nature of man, may be found in the common consent of mankind. Why do we expect it from the objects of our benevolence? From brutes it is unlooked for. The spectators were amazed when upon the Roman amphitheatre he who had extracted a thorn from a lion's foot was spared and recognized. But in man the absence of gratitude astonishes us as much as its presence in a brute, because it is in accordance with the constitution of his nature to be grateful. Even among barbarians the obligations imposed upon them by kindness are religiously observed. See how the Arab or the Indian will protect his friend! The lapse of time-the threats of enemies the risk of life cannot make them forget his benefits. They will give all they possess to save him from the torture or the stake. And yet all this is done by the light of nature. Some nations have classed ingratitude with murder, and punished it with death. In short, there is no crime on earth more universally detested, more reluctantly confessed, or more bitterly inveighed against. "Ingratitude is monstrous," says the dramatist, and the death of Cæsar, he tells us, was caused less by the stroke of the assassin, than by the ingratitude of Brutus; for

"When the noble Cæsar saw him stab,

Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms,

Quite vanquished him. Then burst his mighty heart."

2. Another truth, also, must be attended to in regard to gratitude. The warmth of its expression should always be proportioned to the amount of our obligations. The subject matter of our present thanksgivings are the mercies of God. And what kindnesses between man and man can compare with these in number and magnitude? The world literally groans beneath the burden of his gifts, and this is continually accumulating by fresh donations. They are not only conferred daily but momentarily. Every pulsation of life for example is equivalent to its original gift. We owe God therefore as many lives as we draw breaths. Every moment by preserving our life he bestows upon us the innumerable blessings which life involves. Can our gratitude be too profound or our praises of such a being too loud? There are thousands in the world, however, who return thanks for the least benefit which man bestows, and yet receive the richest gifts from their Creator without acknowledgment. So long as their benefactor is man, their gratitude rises with their obligations; but when claimed by the transcendantly higher obligations which they owe to God it falls to zero. Some say that this is owing to the fact that by the continual recurrence of his gifts they lose their force. I know that the intensity of light diminishes in proportion to its removal from the sun. I know that heat decreases as you travel from its source, but I have yet to learn that there is a point where gratitude is extinguished by the very means calculated to set it on fire.

Is gratitude blunted by the repetition of kindness between man and man, or do we not look that men who are overwhelmingly obliged, should be overwhelmingly grateful? If because God is always giving, we withhold our thanks, then the very cause of gratitude to a fellow creature is assigned for ingratitude to our Creator. Some men there are, too, in the world, who only praise God for what he is not always giving, for what he rarely gives, and gives to few, such as wealth and eminence. Their mercury is always at the freezing point except on the application of boiling heat. The common benefits of God, though the most important and valuable, cannot raise it an inch. Now this is unnatural. As the glass rises and rises with the heat so should the temperature of gratitude with our obligations; and that its culminating point should be the Great Being whose gifts admit of no comparison with any other, is manifest. Thanksgiving from man to man is a lower duty than thanksgiving from man to God. Whilst the feelings and affections of the heart respond to kindness from below, they should ascend to kindness from above; like the oak whose lower branches may touch the ground whilst its upper ones climb to heaven.

Among our grounds of ther'sgiving are the character and perfection of God. The apes and admiration justly claimed by any being depead up the d gree in which he possesses corresponding excellence. For stance, a being with reason is entitled to more regar than an irrational animal, and a man of talent and vittne tore regard than a dunce or profligate. Every one, in short, has a right to that place in our esteem which he deserves. Now, on this ground, we cannot without injustice withhold from God our highest praises and warmest affections. As a divine being, He is a being of superior nature to all others, for that nature belongs to God alone. The nature of man is common to the human race: the nature of angels is shared by the heavenly host; but the nature of God is peculiar to himself. Beside himself, all other beings are finite, created, dependent, and mutable. We owe to Him on this account, therefore, the whole honor, and the undivided regard, which belong to the only being thus distinguished. The respect due to a reasonable being is due as much to one as to another, and must be equally divided among the human family; but that which the Divine Being claims, since there is but one, is wholly and undividably his own. In the same way, the character of God, on account of its ing excellence, entitle Him to our deepest reverence, and to that response of feeling and affection which its several features deserve. Its amiability deserves our love, its truth our confidence, its compassion our regard, and its justice our awe. In such quali ties occasion us to exercise such feelings toward a loving, truthful, benevolent and upright man, how much more should they do so toward God, in whose character they shine with the brightest lustre, and without any mixture of infirmity? Now, the duty in which we are engaged, implies that we have such feelings, that our prayers and praises are the language suggested by his nature, as the one living and true God, and by his character, as holy, and just, and good.

surpass

The works of God are a ground of thanksgiving. Some men there are in the world who live the finest sence possible of the beautiful in art, and yet seen insensible to thas of nature. They praise Canova and Thorwaldsen to the skies, Lut say nothing of the statuary in living marile. But these men are unjust to God, for every artist is entitled to all the credit which his works deserve. Whether the author of the works be human or divine, makes no difference. We accord to the sculptor, the painter, the writer, our applauses according to the supposed merit of their productions. Crown have been wreathed for them, festivals have been held in their honor, eulogies have been pronounced on their genics, and books have been written in their praise. And yet all this is done in honor of those who are themselves indebted to the Almighty, for the means by which their fame has been acquired and their works accomplished. The intelicct of Newton,

the hand of Phidias, the fire of Raphael, and the eloquence of Cicero, were all from God, and the praise of the wonders which they achieved is justly His. But if we applaud to the skies the works of men, with what rapturous enthusiasm and admiration should those of God be witnessed!

The most cunning contrivances of human ingenuity, the noblest triumphs of human genius, are as much beneath the grandeur, and skill, and wisdom, displayed in the works of God as man is beneath his Maker. Man can stretch a wire around the globe, and communicate with his antipodes in a moment; but can he create the subtle and mysterious fluid which conveys his message? Man can carve statues out of marble, but can he breathe into their nostrils the breath of life? Man can annihilate distance, but can he make a drop of water or a particle of dust? "Which of you," says our Lord, by taking thought, can add one cubit unto his stature?" or what amounts to the same thing-can conceive how in any way the works of God may be improved? Let any man try to make that better which God pronounced very good, and his inability to originate will soon be palpable. What a prodigious grasp of mind then does it argue in the Creator of all things, that he could beget the idea of a universe, with its gorgeous assemblage of systems, and worlds; its complex laws and vast machinery. Ages passed before man could discover the law which governs the fall of atoms, and the sweep of planets; the wisdom then which originated all the physical laws of the universe, must be unspeakable. And what consummate power must the realization of these sublime ideas have demanded to produce from nothing, in such excellence that it could not be improved, everything! Consider, too, that the most diminutive of the works of God are as full of wonder as the greatest; that the mote in the sunbeam and the drop of water, teem as much with marvels, as the fields of space or the canopy of heaven. Reflect that even among those of his works with which we are acquainted, there is an endless diversity, so that no exact coincidence is found among individuals even of the same tribe in the animal and vegetable world.

Although there are so many plants, and animals, and men-so many that they cannot be counted, you cannot find a single pair of them without some points of dissimilarity. Whole tribes of creatures quite different from those now existing in the world have disappeared, and the process of producing and reproducing this infinitely varied and diversified succession of beings has been carried on by God from the creation of the world till now. Such thoughts, the very immensity of the subject make distracting, but they bring forcibly to our minds the adoring admiration, and love, which we owe to God. Such works as his do indeed deserve thanksgiving, and praise, and were they withheld these very walls might clap their hands, and yonder stones sing anthems to rebuke our apathy.

Another cause of thankfulness are "the blessings of this life," or the continued exercise in our behalf, of a watchful providence. Every being deserves our thanks in proportion to the time, and thought, and pains, which He employs for our good. Now in order to bestow upon us these blessings the wisdom, skill, power and goodness of God are continually occupied. He devotes, if I may so express myself, His time, His resources, His contrivance and His study, for our interests. Thus our preservation is owing to His incessantly warding off from us disease and accident-to His maintaining uninterruptedly the succession of seasons, the fecundity of the earth, the salubrity of the air, and that constitution of things, which to such beings as we are, if deranged for a moment, would prove fatal. This shows how busy God must be in our behalf; for that nothing may go wrong he must be everywhere and see everything. Were he to leave the helm of the great ship that he has built, for a single moment, it must go to pieces. He must not only control and direct the movements of the world, but those of the atom, because a single screw out of place in this vast machine, might be destructive. He must foresee every danger which he averts, and have a perfect knowledge of every event before it happens. And what thanks are not due to God for such sleepless regard to our interests, and unwearied exertions in our favor! What goodness to occupy himself every moment in supplying our fast recurring necessities, and in daily bestowing upon us the richest blessings.

For these alone we can never be sufficiently thankful. Unbroken health, without which, though possessing all things, we enjoy nothing. Oh, it must be a cold and withered heart that lies within that man's breast who does not praise God for the unimpaired energies of his frame, notwithstanding, perhaps, pernicious dissipations and wearing toils. "Strange" indeed is it that under such circumstances, "a harp of ten thousand strings should keep in tune so long." There is a sound mind without which nature would be a blank. There are not only the necessaries of life, but the feasts, which for our taste, our imagination, our curiosity, and our reason, are everywhere spread in the works of God. There are also home, that "nest of delights," and all the sweets of domestic happiness. But thousands of volumes and ten thousand times ten thousand tongues could not exhaust the catalogue! What affecting passages, my hearers, in each one's history, would such a recapitulation involve! What tales of hair-breadth escapes, singular recoveries, and special interpositions! Some God has rescued from dangers, some he has snatched from death, and some he has saved from ruin. Many have struggled hard with adversity, who are now prosperous, and many have acquired a handsome competence, who were once poor.

"The blessings of this life" will remind numbers of the up-hill part of its journey, and make them think perhaps with tears of the