PHYSICO-THEOLOGY. DESCRIPTIVE ACCOUNT OF THE FLAMINGO. A Curious enquirer into nature could no fooner caft his eyes upon this extraordinary bird, than he would be fatisfied, that fome peculiar ends were to be answered by its uncommon length of legs and neck, the largest, we believe, of any of the bird kind. And certainly nothing can be a stronger proof of defign and wifdom in the Creator of all things, than the correspondence obfervable in creatures between their wants, and the provifion for those wants. The Flamingo, is a fufficient example: "It is frequent, in the warmer cli mates, and most commonly found about the fhallow fhores of the fea, and the mouths of rivers. When it is feen in the water, which is gènerally the cafe, the body only is on the furface, and it appears swimming, though really standing. The head at thofe times alfo, is almost conftantly under water, in fearch of food. At thefe times, all that is feen is the body of a bird, as big as a wild goose, or a little more; but with what aftonishment does the ftranger fee it come out of the water! The head is first raifed erect, and the furprifing length of the neck is like that of the oftrich, only more extraordinary: the body, as it comes on fhore, is raifed as much above the ground, as the head above the body, and there ftalks forth a bird of a wonderful height, and in beauty furpaffing almost every other. The wings nearly cover the body, and the tail is nothing. What part of the body remains uncovered is fnowwhite; the breadth of the wings is of a fearlet, fo bright, that the eye is pained to look long upon it; and the long feathers are of the deepest black : the neck is of the fame fnow-white with the body, and the legs are of the fame fcarlet with the wings: the beak is blue, except at the tip, where it is black. It is not long, ftrait and fharp, as in the heron kind, but vaftly ftrong, and of a fhape fo fingular, that it appears broken. The toes of the bird are connected together, by a membrane like thofe of the duck kind, fo that it can fwim; but the legs are long, and it never makes this ufe of them, in the common course of its feeding the only purpose to which thefe webs ferve, is the prefervation of its life on fingular occafions. The tides are fudden in fome parts of America, where the bird is common; and while it is rooting under fome rough ftone for a fhellfish, it becomes out of its depth. In this cafe the leaft guft of air might blow it to fea, and it muft perish, for it doth not very easily rife from the water, when out of its depth. The webbed feet now are ufeful; it fwims till it can reach the bottom, and as foon as a fmall part of its legs are out of the water, it takes wing. Thusan indulgent Providence hath taken care, as well for its particular fafety, as its general fupport; and he must be blind, who does not fee the provifion which the Creator hath made for this bird's fupply of its wants, as well as thofe of others of the fame kind. As they are to receive their nourishment from animals or plants, which are found in the water, and yet have no power to fwim; the length of their legs and neck fufficiently answers all their demands, They who admire the wonderful means by which the God of nature has contrived, that thofe animals which he has endued with a lesser principle than reafon, fhould provide themselves with food, and fecure their exiftence, during a life in which they are liable to in numerable Quef. W be our work in the morning? Anf. To let our prayers come before the Lord, and to praise his mercy which he fheweth in our continual prefervation; and thus to do is to awake with God, Pfalm lxxxviii. ver. 13. and lix. ver.” 16. Q. What must our apparel be? A. Such as becometh those who profefs the fear of God; therefore, neither coftly beyond ability, nor gairish or flaunting beyond modefty, 1 Tim. ii. ver. 9, 10. Q. What is next to be done? A. We must follow our own bufinefs with quietnefs, 1 Theff. iv. ver. II. 2 Theff. iii. ver. 12. Q. What must chiefly be cared for in our business? A. To walk with God: (to remember his all-feeing presence, and to seek to approve ourselves unto him) Gen. v. ver. 22. Heb. xi. ver. 5. Q. What must our fpeech be? A. Gracious always: (fuch as may be a witness of the grace of the heart) Col. iv. ver. 6. Q. What things muft chiefly be avoided in fpeaking? A. Lying, fwearing, filthinefs, foolish talking, jefting, railing: (this is called corrupt communication, bewraying a corrupt heart.) Eph. iv. ver. 29, v. ver. 4. James v. ver. 12. 1 Cor. v. ver. 11. Q. What company muft we keep ? A. All our delight must be to the faints that are in the earth, Pf. xvi. ver. 3. (We may, and must, shew to others a love of pity, but not of delight. By the faints is meant, fuch as make confcience of a holy life.) Q. What must we do, when we come to our meat? A. We must look up to heaven and give thanks, Matt. xiv. ver. 19. Q. How many things muft chiefly be looked to in our diet? A. Three. Q. What is the first? A. That our hearts be not oppreffed with furfeiting and drunkenness, Luke xxi. ver. 34. Q. What is the second? A. That we forget not the work of the Lord (i. e. the end why the Lord giveth us food) Ifa. v. ver. 12. Q. What is the third ? A. That of what remaineth nothing be loft, John vi. ver. 12. Q. Ought not fome part of every day to be fet apart for fpiritual ufes ? 4 A. We must redeem the time, (i. e. make the best use of it) because the days are evil, Eph. v. ver. 16. Q. May not recreations be fometimes used? A. Yes, there is a time to laugh, Eccl. iii. ver. 4. Q. What kind of fports (pleas fures, diverfions, amufements, relaxations, entertainments) may we use? A. Such as be of good report, Phil. iv. ver. 8. (None of thofe fports which beget lightnefs and impudence, or ftand only upon hazard, being no exercife either of wit or body, are fuch these have neither the good report of fcripture, nor good men.) Q. How many things must be looked to in the ufe of our delights? A. Two. A. Two. QWhat is the firft? A. That our rejoicing hinder not better duties, i Theff. v. ver. 16, 17. (St. Paul joineth rejoicing with prayer, to teach us that mirth is evil, when it hindereth prayer.) Q. What is the second? A. That we caufe not our good fi. e. our Chriftian liberty to use innocent relaxations) to be evil spoken of (as though it were the ground of licentioufnefs) Rom. xiv. ver. 16. Q. What is the evening duty? A. To examine ourselves (what has been our behaviour that day) upon our bed; and every man to fay to himself, what have I done? P. iv.. ver. 4. Jer. viii. yer. 6. Q. What must we do elfe? A. Pray (that the fin of the day may be pardoned, and in the night following we may be preferved) Pf. 1v. ver. 17. Q. How many things make fleep comfortable? A. Two. Q. What is the one? A. Honeft labour (in the duties of a man's calling) Eccl. v. ver. 12. Q. What is the other? A. Godly care to thrive in religion, Prov. iii. from ver. 13. to 27. Q. How muft fleep be used? A. Love it not, left thou come to Prov. xx. 13. poverty, A PRAYER OF YOUTH. REAT is thy mercy, O Lord! GR in that thou haft vouchfafed to humbie finners liberty of accefs into thy glorious prefence, and a promife alfo of granting thofe petitions which they shall afk in thy Son's name. Teach me, I beseech thee! to take comfort in this freedom, and to be a frequent fuitor unto thy divine Majefty and that, fo much the rather, O Lord! becaufe of the danger of thefe wicked and contagious times, and the aptnefs which is in me, now in my tender years efpecially, to fall into fin. Here, therefore, do I prof trate myself before the footstool of thy Majefty, humbly befeeching thee to feafon my heart with thy heavenly grace, and to fettle in me a defire to fear thee, and to walk in holiness before thee, above all things. Suppress the rebellion and pride of my nature; bring my unruly affections into order; fubdue thofe paffions which the heat of youth kindleth in me frame me to a refpectful attention to their godly advice, who are able to inftruct me; make me to be even fearful of myself, and jealous over thofe ways which my own heart most affects, and very wa ry and circumspect with whom I converfe: Teach me to remember thee, my Creator, now in my youth, and to refolve to confecrate my green years to thy glory; to learn betimes to ftand in awe of thy judgments, and to make confcience of the least fin; as knowing the deceitfulness thereof, how it will enfnare by degrees, and how hard it will be hereafter to reform thofe evil habits, which are daily gathering ftrength by being indulged. And to the end I may both direct and amend my ways, O let me take heed unto them by thy word! let that be thy counsellor to inftruct me, thy Spirit alfo fecretly informing me in the that I fhall chufe. Plant in way me obedience to my governors, and a care of fhewing all due reverence to thofe who, in age or authority, are before me. Root out of me all felf, love, all good opinion of myfelf, all pride and haughtiness of fpirit, all toutnefs and itubbornnefs of difpofition, all affectation of the vanities and follies of the times, all wantonnefs of thought, all irregularity of (peech or behaviour; all which are the common fault of our younger days, and from none of which I am able to fay, My heart is clean. May I be daily crucifying the flesh, with its af fections and lufts, and thereby feel, with growth in years, a growing in grace, and a daily dying unto fin, and ΤΗ HIS Pfalm was wrote about the fame time, and on the fame occafion as the foregoing one, in which David fets out with a complaint of God's delay to deliver him; but recollecting himself the devout pfalmift prays for preventing grace, and glories in divine mercy. Ver. 1. How long, O Lord, hall I thus be perfecuted by the rebellious, as if thou hadt forgotten me-for ever? How long, by not delivering me, wilt thou feem as it were to hide thy face from me? 2. How long, deprived of the advice and affiftance of my friends, fhall I take counsel in my foul, and have forrow on account of my prefent miferable fituation, in my heart daily. 3. Confider my prefent diftressed circumftances, and hear my prayer: O Lord, my God, give me light in the midst of this horrid darkness, left, overwhelmed by the load of my calamities, I fleep the fleep of death. 4. Left mine enemy, even mine own fon, fhould fay, I have prevailed against him, and thofe, his abettors in his rebellion, rejoice, when I am taken off, or thus moved. 5. But let me cease complaining, I have trufted in thy mercy, and, I doubt not, my heart fhall ftill rejoice in thy falvation. 6. Instead therefore of repining, I will fing praifes unto the Lord, becaufe, hitherto, he hath dealt boun tifully by me. PRIVATE THOUGHTS ON THE OMNIPRESENCE AND OMNISCIENCE OF GOD. A SI was furveying the moon walking in her brightness, and taking her progreis among the conftellations, a thought arofe in me, which I believe very often perplexes and difturbs meņ of ferious and contemplative natures. David himfelf fell into it in that reflection, "When I confider the heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars which thou haft ordained; what is man that thou art mindful of him ; and the fon of man that thou regardeft him?" In the fame manner, when I confidered that infinite host of stars, or, to fpeak more philofophically, of funs, which were then fhining upon me, with those innumerable fets of planets or worlds, which were moving round their respective funs; when I till enlarged the idea, and fuppofed another heaven of funs and worlds rifing ftill above this which we difcovered, and thefe enlightened by a fuperior firmament of luminaries, which are planted at fo great a distance, that they may appear to the inhabitants of the former as the ftars do to us; in fhort, while I purfued this thought, I could not but reflect on that little infignificant figure which I myself bore amidit the immenfity of God's works. Were the fun, which enlightens this part of the creation, with all the hoft of planetary worlds that move about him, utterly extinguished and annihilated; they would not be miffed more than a grain of fand upon the fea fhore. The space they poffefs is fo exceedingly little, in comparison of the the whole, that it would fcarce make a blank in the creation. The chaẩm would be imperceptible to an eye, that could take in the whole compass of nature, and pafs from one end of the creation to the other; as it is poffible there may be such a sense in ourfelves hereafter, or in creatures which are at prefent more exalted than ourfelves. We fee many stars by the help of glaffes, which we do not difcover with our naked eyes; and the finer our telescopes are, the more ftill ̧ are our discoveries. 1 To return, therefore, to my first thought, I could not but look upon myfelf with fecret horror, as a being that was not worth the smallest regard of one who had fo great a work under his care and fuperintendency. I was afraid of being over-looked amidst the immenfity of nature, and loft among that infinite variety of creatures, which in all probability fwarm through all these immeafurable regions of matter. In order to recover myself from this mortifying thought, I confidered that it took its rife from those narrow conceptions, which we are apt to enter tain of the divine nature. We ourfelves cannot attend to many different objects at the fame time. If we are careful to infpect fome things, we muft of course neglect others. This imperfection which we obferve in ourfelves, is an imperfection that cleaves in fome degree to creatures of the higheft capacities, as they are creatures, that is, beings of finite and limited natures. The prefence of every created being is confined to a certain measure of fpace, and confequently his obfervation is flinted to a certain number of objects. The sphere in which we move, and act, and understand, is of a wider circumference to one creature than another, according as we rife one above another in the scale of existence. But the wideft of these our fpheres has its circumference... When therefore we reflect on the divine nature, we are so used and accustomed to this imperfection in ourselves, that we cannot forbear in fome measure afcribing it to him in whom there is no fhadow of imperfection. Our reafon, indeed, affures us, that his attributes are infinite; but the poornefs of our conceptions is fuch, that it cannot forbear fetting bounds to every thing it contemplates, till our reafon comes again to our fuccour, and throws down all those little prejudices which rife in us unawares, and are natural to the mind of man. We shall therefore utterly extinguish this melancholy thought, of our being overlooked by our Maker in the multiplicity of his works, and the infinity of thofe objects among which he feems to be inceffantly employed, if we confider, in the first place, that he is omniprefent; and, in the fecond, that he is omnifcient. If we confider him in his omniprefence, his being paffes through, actuates, and fupports the whole frame of nature. His creation, and every part of it, is full of him. There is nothing he has made that is either fo diftant, fo little, or fo inconfiderable, which he does not effentially inhabit. His fubftance is within the fubftance of every being, whether material or immaterial, and as intimately prefent to it, as that being is to itfelf. It would be an imperfection in him, were he able to remove out of one place into another, or to withdraw himfelf from any thing he has created, or from any part of that space which is diffufed and fpread abroad to infinity. In short, to fpeak of him in the language of the old philofopher, he is a being whofe center is every where, and his circumference no where. In the fecond place, he is omnifcient as well as omniprefent. His omniscience, indeed, neceffarily and naturally flows from his omniprefence; he cannot but be confcious of every motion that arifes in the whole material world, which he thus effentially pervades, and of every thought that is ftirring in the intellectual world, to every part of which he is thus inti- / mately united. Several moralifts have confidered |