there is a store of matter which would more than fill a philosophical treatise: I must therefore content myself with tracing some of the outlines of so large a subject.

The first thing which engages the curiosity of man, and tempts him to bestow so much of his labour and attention upon this part of the creation, is the beautiful form and splendid attire of plants. They who practise this labour know how delightful it is. It seems to restore man in his fallen state to a participation of that felicity, which he enjoyed while innocent in Paradise.

When we cast our eyes upon this part of nature, it is first observable that, herbs and trees compose a scene so agreeable to the sight, because they are invested with that green colour, which, being exactly in the middle of the spectrum of the coloured rays of light, is tempered to a mildness which the eye can bear. The other brighter and more simple colours are sparingly bestowed on the flowers of plants; and which, if diffused over all their parts, would have been too glaring, and consequently offensive. The smaller and more elegant parts are adorned with that brightness which attracts the admiration without endangering the sense.

But

But while the eye is delighted with the colouring of a flower, the reason may be still more engaged with the natural use and design of a flower in the economy of vegetation. The rudiment of the fruit, when young, and tender, requires some covering to protect it; and accordingly, the flower-leaves surround the seat of fructification; when the sun is warm, they are expanded by its rays, to give the infant-fruit the benefit of the heat: to forward its growth when the sun sets, and the cold of the evening prevails, the flower-leaves naturally close, that the air of the night may not injure the seed-vessel. As the fructifica tion advances, and the changes of the air are no longer hurtful, the flower-leaves have answered their end, and so they wither and fall away. How elegant therefore, as well as apposite, is that allusion in the gospel; I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these*: for the flower, which is the glory of the lily and other plants, is literally and physically a raiment for the clothing of the seed-vessel! And a raiment it is, whose texture surpasses all the laboured productions of art for the clothing of an

eastern monarch. The finest works of the loom and the needle, if examined with a microscope, appear so rude and coarse, that a savage might be ashamed to wear them: but when the work of God in a flower is brought to the same test, we see how fibres, too minute for the naked eye, are composed of others still more minute; and they of others; till the primordial threads or first principles of the texture are utterly undiscernible; while the whole substance presents a celestial radiance in its colouring, with a richness superior to silver and gold; as if it were intended for the clothing of an angel. The whole creation does not afford a more splendid object for minute examination than the leaves and filaments of flowers; even of some flowers which look obscure, and promise little or nothing to the naked eye.

But besides this richness of substance and colour, there is an elegance of design in the whole form and disposition of a plant, which human artists, in ornamental works, are always studious to imitate. Their leaves, and branches and flowers, are thrown about with that ease, and turned into beautiful lines, so as to charm the eye with a variety of flexure,

and

and convince us that all the excellence of art must take its pattern from nature.

The parts generally observable in plants, are a root, a stalk, branches, leaves, flowers, fruit and seeds, succeeding each other in their order, and all seeming necessary to one another. But under the direction of divine wisdom, vegetable life is carried on in every possible form, and the end of fructification is attained, while the means seem to be wanting as if Providence meant to shew us, that it is not confined to any particular means; and that the work of God in this respect essentially differs from the work of man. The Ferns, have neither stalks, nor branches, nor flowers, but consist of single leaves on their pedicles, with seeds upon the backs of them. The flower of the dwarf Thistle sits upon the ground without a stalk; while the Torch-thistle, has nothing but a stalk, like the staff of a spear. The Melonthistle is all fruit; the Opuntia, or Indian fig, all leaf: and whilst the various fruits are produced from the germens of their respective flowers, the Fig tree gives us its fruit without any such concurrence, and incloses the flowers themselves. The Tuber terræ, or Truffle, has neither leaf, stem, branch, flower, Б4

nor

nor seed; nothing but a globular root, which thrives under ground, and does not appear to be fed by fibres like other roots: yet it increases and multiplies.

It is a general rule in nature, that plants which have the same characters have like qualities; but where this rule would teach us to expect a poison, we find a plant with an agreeable odour and wholesome nourishment; as in the Solanum Esculentum, which is of a deadly race, with all the external characters of a night-shade, Are we not. hence to learn, that quality does not arise from configuration, or from any necessity of nature; but follows the will and wisdom of the Creator; who to every plant, as to every man, divideth severally as he will?

It seems essential to trees, that they should be fixed in the earth, and draw their nourishment from it; but some will have no communication with the earth; affixing themselves in a strange manner to the wood of other trees, and subsisting upon their juices; yet preserving their own peculiar nature and complexion.

Flowers are commonly expanded by the heat of the Sun; but some are opened in the evening when others are closed; and break forth at midnight; particularly one, which is

the