‘The sun has been shining so beautifully lately, and the reapers have been busy in the fields. It is a sight to warm the heart, to see the yellow sheaves covering the land, and we should bless God for an abundant harvest. There is a clover-field near us, and it looks like a beautiful carpet of lilac and green. I was calculating that there must be more than two million blossoms in that one field; and each blossom may be perhaps the home of many insects.... Then what is that field compared to all England, or England to Europe, or Europe to the whole world? Neither your little head, nor the wisest man’s, can imagine how many blossoms and how many insects there are on this great globe,--it makes one almost giddy to think of it,--and then to consider that all the world itself is only like a speck in God’s Creation, that there are said to be _eighty millions_ of fixed stars, each of which has very likely worlds moving round it. And God made all. How very great and wonderful He must be! It seems surprising that He should care for every one on this little ball,--how much more astonishing that He should have condescended to come and live upon it, to have appeared as a feeble Child in one of the worlds that He had made, and then actually to _die_, like one of the creatures that He had formed! Is not God’s power wonderful, and His love more wonderful still?