Snow is furnished with the power of absorbing and combining with a large portion of oxygen, which gives it its fertilizing property. The snow melting and penetrating into the softened earth communicates to it oxygen, and this oxygen promotes the germination of seeds. The carbon of the earth combining with the oxygen, is converted into carbonic acid, and thereby acquires more solubility; while the water contributes to excite that activity which had been rendered dormant in the roots by the cold. It is this property of carbon which deprives water of the superabundant oxygen that would render it prejudicial to health, and unfit for the purposes of life. Thus what would otherwise be injurious to us is improved by the ground, and gives at the same time power and activity to the mould. How multiplied are those means which infinite wisdom and goodness employ for the preservation of the productions of Nature!88

Ice at 32° must absorb 140° of caloric before it can become a fluid; or such a quantity as would raise a body of water of equal bulk with itself from 32° to 172°. For instance: “Take any quantity by weight of ice or snow at 32°, and mix it with an equal weight of water heated exactly to 172°. The snow instantly melts, and the temperature of the mixture is still only at thirty-two degrees. Here the water is cooled 140°, while the temperature of the snow is not increased at all; so that 140° of caloric have disappeared. They must have combined with the snow; but they have only melted it, without increasing its temperature. Hence it follows irresistibly that ice, when converted into water, absorbs and combines with 140° of caloric. Water then, after being cooled down to 32°, cannot freeze till it has parted with 140° of caloric; and ice, after being heated to 32°, (which is the exact freezing point), cannot melt till it has absorbed 140° more of caloric. This is the cause of the extreme slowness of these operations. There can be no doubt, then, but water owes its fluidity to its latent caloric, and that its caloric of fluidity is 140°”.89 And all this arrangement in nature, connected with the operation of these elements, is immediately under the control and direction of the infinitely wise and almighty Creator of the universe. “He sendeth forth his commandment upon earth: his word runneth very swiftly. He giveth snow like wool: he scattereth the hoar-frost like ashes. He casteth forth his ice like morsels: who can stand before his cold? He sendeth out his word, and melteth them: he causeth his wind to blow, and the waters flow.”

Drops of rain, falling through a cold region of the atmosphere, are frozen and converted into hail; and thus the hail is produced by rain. When it begins to fall, it is rain; when it is falling, it is converted into hail; so that it is literally true, that it rains hail. The further a hail-stone falls, the larger it generally is; because, in its descent, meeting with innumerable particles of water, they become attached to it, are also frozen, and thus its bulk is continually increasing till it reaches the earth.90 A storm of hail fell near Liverpool, in Lancashire, in the year 1795, which greatly damaged the vegetation, broke windows, &c., &c. Many of the stones measured five inches in circumference. Dr. Halley mentions a similar storm of hail in Lancashire, Cheshire, &c., April 29, 1697, that for sixty miles in length, and two miles in breadth, did immense damage, by splitting trees, killing fowls and all small animals, knocking down men and horses, &c., &c. Mezeray, in his History of France, says, that in Italy, in 1510, there was for some time a horrible darkness, thicker than that of night; after which the clouds broke into thunder and lightning, and there fell a shower of hail-stones which destroyed all the beasts, birds, and even fish of the country. It was attended with a strong smell of sulphur, and the stones were of a blueish color, some of them weighing one hundred pounds weight. The Almighty says to Job—“Hast thou seen the treasures of the hail, which I have reserved against the time of trouble, against the day of battle and war.” While God has such artillery at his command, how soon may he desolate a country, or a world!91

The aqueous fluid is in continual circulation. The constant round which it travels, says Dr. Paley, and by which, (without suffering either adulteration or waste,) it is continually offering itself to the wants of the habitable globe, is much to be admired. From the sea are exhaled, by the heat of the sun, into the air, those vapors which are there condensed into clouds: these clouds are dissolved into rain and dew, or into snow and hail, which are but rain congealed, by the coldness of the air, and descend in showers, which, penetrating into the crevices of the hills, supply the springs: which springs flow in little streams into the valleys; and there uniting, become rivers, which rivers, in return, feed the ocean. So there is an incessant circulation of the same fluid; and not one drop probably more or less now than there was at the creation. A particle of water takes its departure from the surface of the sea, in order to discharge certain important offices to the earth: and, having executed the service which was assigned to it, returns to the bosom which it left.92 Thus, as one of the greatest of naturalists says, “All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full: unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again.”

Water, when taken up by the atmosphere, is not in an aqueous state, but is converted into vapor by the efficiency of heat, and then combines with more than five times the quantity of caloric than is required to bring ice-cold water to a boiling heat, and occupies a space 800 times greater than it does when in the form of water. A large portion of the matter of heat combining chemically with water, renders it specifically lighter; which is the cause of its rising and mixing with the atmosphere. The waters on the face of the earth would be dissipated in vapor by a small degree of heat, if we had no atmosphere. Under the pressure of the atmosphere water boils at 212°, but in vacuo it boils when heated only to 67°. On the contrary, if additional pressure be given to water by a Papin’s digester, it may be heated to 400°, without producing ebullition. However long we boil a fluid, in an open vessel, we cannot make it in the smallest degree hotter than the boiling point.93 When arrived at this point, the vapor absorbs the heat, and carries it off as fast as it is generated. When water is received into the atmosphere, if the air be warm, it becomes so far changed by its union with the matter of heat as to be perfectly invisible. In this state it occupies a space 1,400 times greater than its ordinary liquid state.

After vapor has remained some time in the atmosphere, it becomes in a measure condensed; and the particles of water of which it is composed unite, and form hollow vesicles, which accumulate together and produce clouds. How this is effected, those who have attentively considered the subject are not agreed. Dr. Thomson, after well investigating the matter, concludes, from all the facts, that “the formation of clouds and rain cannot be accounted for by a single principle with which we are acquainted.” It is, however, says Mr. Parkes, probable that electricity alone is the primary cause. Saussure conjectures that it is the electrical fluid which surrounds these vesicles, and prevents them from dissolving in the air. And the idea of the formation of clouds by the agency of electricity was mentioned by Volta, and also by Dr. Franklin.

[It is allowed by all, that clouds are formed by the aqueous vapors which are held suspended, or in solution, by the atmosphere. It is not a settled question, whether the air holds these vapors in solution, or merely suspended; and thus, keeping the particles asunder, prevents their condensation.

This aqueous vapor is invisible when perfectly in union with the air. When it begins to separate from the air, it becomes visible by condensation, in the form of clouds, mists, and fogs. When it is perfectly separated and sufficiently condensed it becomes rain, and when the temperature is sufficiently low to freeze the condensed drops, they become snow, or hail.

The above process is quite intelligible, but the agent of this condensation is, perhaps, inexplicable. It is impossible to solve all the phenomena of the formation of clouds, by supposing the vapors condensed by a reduction of temperature, produced by the warmer volumes of clouds rising into the regions of colder ones. For we know the natural tendency of the warmer strata of air, from the neighborhood of the earth, is to rise, with its watery particles, to colder regions. Hence there would be a constant condensation, which would seem to require a constant deposition of rain, or mist; or, at least, a constant accumulation of clouds.

Again: On this theory, the nights would be cloudy and rainy: as the vapors raised during the day would be condensed by the superior coldness of the night succeeding. Moreover, it is well known that great rains fall in very warm weather, and when a rise of temperature is observed.

These, and other considerations, have induced many persons to have recourse to electricity to solve this difficult question, and various observations seem to countenance the idea that it may be the remote agent of the formation of clouds, by producing a sudden rarefaction of the air, which would, of course, produce a sudden reduction of temperature; the consequence of which would be a rapid condensation of the watery particles in combination with the air. This condensation would form clouds, and if sufficiently rapid and extensive, a fall of rain would ensue.

This supposition is much strengthened by a fact of common observation, viz: when clouds are impending over us, but no rain falling, a sudden shower comes down instantly upon a flash of lightning. In this case it is so obvious that the lightning had an immediate agency, that none can doubt, who ever observed the phenomenon.

The electrified state of clouds, fogs, and mists, is considered strong proof in favor of this theory. Clouds are almost always highly charged with electricity, and sometimes so highly charged as to become luminous, and very destructive.

On the 11th of August, 1772, about midnight, a bright cloud was observed covering a mountain in the district of Cheribon, in the island of Java, at the same time several reports were heard like those of a gun. The people who dwelt upon the upper parts of the mountain not being able to fly fast enough, a great part of the cloud, almost three leagues in circumference, detached itself under them, and was seen at a distance rising and falling like the waves of the sea, and emitting globes of fire so luminous, that the night became as clear as day. The effects of it were astonishing; every thing was destroyed for seven leagues round; the houses were demolished; plantations were buried in the earth, and 2,140 people lost their lives. Ency. Brit. Article, Clouds.

In another case, October 29th, 1757, in the island of Malta, a little after midnight, there was seen to the South west of the city Melita, a great black cloud, which, as it approached, changed its color, till at last it became like a flame of fire mixed with smoke. A dreadful noise was heard on its approach, which alarmed the whole city. It passed over the port, and came first on an English ship, which in an instant was torn to pieces, and nothing left but the hulk; part of the masts, sails, and cordage were carried to a considerable distance along with the cloud. The small craft were sunk instantly. It demolished a part of the city, and passed over to Sicily, but did no injury there as it was previously exhausted. Several hundred were killed. Ency. Brit. Article, Cloud.]

The principle of evaporation is the primary cause of all rain, mist, dew, &c. The ocean loses many millions of gallons of water hourly by evaporation. The Mediterranean alone is said to lose more by it, than it receives from the Nile, the Tiber, the Rhone, the Po, and all the other rivers that fall into it. When Dr. Halley made his celestial observations upon the tops of the mountains at St. Helena, he found that the quantity of vapor which fell there (even when the sky was clear) was so great, that his observations were thereby much impeded: his glasses were so covered with water through the condensation of the vapors, that he was obliged to wipe them every ten minutes. In order to determine, with some degree of accuracy, how much water would be raised in vapor in any space of time, he took a vessel of water salted to the same degree with that of sea-water, in which he placed a thermometer, and by means of a pan of coals brought the water to the same degree of heat as would be produced by the sun in summer: he then affixed the vessel of water with the thermometer in it, to one end of a pair of scales, and exactly counterpoised it with weights on the other. Then, at the end of two hours, he found by the alteration in the weight of the vessel, that a sixtieth part of an inch in the depth of the water was gone off in vapor; and therefore, in twelve hours, one-tenth of an inch would have gone off. From this experiment the Doctor calculates (in as accurate a manner as the subject will admit of) the quantity of water raised by evaporation from the Mediterranean Sea, to be at least five thousand two hundred and eighty millions of tons of water in a day; and from the river Thames twenty millions three hundred thousand tons per day, on the average.

This water is conveyed by the winds to every part of the continents: these it fertilizes in the form of rain, and afterwards supplies the rivers, which flow again into the sea. In our climate, evaporation is found to be about four times as much from the vernal to the autumnal equinox, as from the autumnal to the vernal. Heat facilitates all solutions; and the greater the difference between the temperature of the air and the evaporating surface, the greater will be the evaporation. Bishop Watson found that, even when there had been no rain for a considerable time, and the earth had been dried by the parching heat of summer, an acre of ground dispersed into the air above 1,600 gallons of water in the space of twelve hours of a summer’s day. A little reflection would convince any one of the importance of the principle of evaporation. Innumerable instances of its use might be adduced; suffice to add, that without it neither grass nor corn could be sufficiently void of moisture to lay up for use. Our clothes when washed could not be dried; neither could a variety of the most common operations, which conduce much to our comfort and convenience, be performed without it.

It is evident that water exists in the atmosphere in abundance, even in the driest seasons, and under the clearest sky. By the experiments of Saussure, it appears, that a cubic foot of atmospheric air will hold eleven grains of water in solution. From this property of the air we derive many advantages. It has a tendency to preserve every thing on the face of the earth in a proper degree of moisture. It appears, from the experiments of some aëronauts, that the air is much drier in the higher regions than it is near the surface of the earth.

When two opposite currents of air meet, of different temperatures, the vapors are sometimes condensed thereby, and rain ensues. It may be remarked, that if the temperature of our atmosphere had been 212, or upwards, rain could never have fallen on the earth; for the water taken up by evaporation would have been converted into a permanently elastic fluid. Such is the necessity of rain, that it alone not only affords a proper degree of moisture to the vegetable creation, but is of service in bringing the soils into a fit state to perform their office. Dry earth of itself is ineffective; but when moistened it has the property of decomposing atmospheric air, and of conveying its oxygen to the roots of those plants which vegetate within it. We are indebted to Humboldt for the knowledge of this fact. It is impossible ever to contemplate the various ways in which the different operations of nature are made to correct and balance each other, without being struck with the infinite comprehension of the Divine Mind, which could thus foresee the tendency of every law which it was about to establish. How many cases are there in which the slightest oversight would have produced the destruction of the world!

The effects of vapor have furnished a new moving force to mechanics, says Haüy, which it required no ordinary genius to have created, and to have measured its energy. This science, during a long time, had only employed water as a moving force, by availing itself of its natural course, or by judiciously managing its fall, so as to subject it to the operation of machines which is regulated by an impulsion continually renewed. The experiments made upon the force of water reduced to vapor, gave birth to the idea of applying that vapor so much the more advantageously to the same purpose, because independently of its great energy, it may be transported wherever it is called for by the interests of commerce and industry.

The execution of steam-engines has had, like that of all other machines, its different epochs, to which successively corresponded new degrees of perfection. To diminish, as far as possible, the quantity of vaporisation requisite for the effect in contemplation, and to make a moderate use of the combustible; to combine with this chief economy that of substance and of workmanship, by contracting the dimensions of the pieces without diminishing their utility; to prevent explosions, by the wisest precautions adopted in the management of an agent whose power becomes destructive when it is not limited: these are in general the objects which have fixed the attention of engineers, and have excited among them a laudable kind of rivalship.94

In no invention, either for ingenuity or utility, has modern genius been more conspicuous than in the invention of the steam-engine. The amazing power wielded by man, by this means, is just matter of astonishment and wonder. In no part of the kingdom have these stupendous machines been brought to greater perfection, either in size or principle, than in the mining counties of Cornwall and Devon. The largest ever built has lately been erected at Chacewater mine, in the county of Cornwall, by Mr. S. Moyle, of that place, and is for size and efficiency, as well as neatness, without a parallel. This stupendous machine is equal to 1,010 horses; it works day and night in pumping dry a mine of 100 fathoms deep, and of a large extent: and the quantity of water pumped out in one minute, and the column consequently lifted, is greater than any other machine of the kind ever erected. The whole reflects the greatest credit on the abilities of the engineer, and forms an interesting object to all those who are curious in mechanism, or who may visit the mines of Cornwall.95

A very ingenious naturalist suggests the idea, that subterraneous fire, and steam generated from it, are the true and real causes of earthquakes. And he thinks the elasticity of steam and its expansive force, are every way capable of producing the stupendous effects attributed to earthquakes, when it is considered that this expansive force of steam is to that of gunpowder as 140 to 5. He also apprehends that subterraneous fire must, at different times, have existed universally in the bowels of the earth, and that in union with water, or by the expansive power of steam, it has produced the immense continents, as well as the mountains of our globe.96 There are, in the Memoirs of the Paris Academy of Sciences for the year 1707, some observations communicated by Vauban, from which it results that 140 pounds of water converted into vapor, would produce an explosion capable of blowing up a mass of 77,000 pounds, while 140 pounds of powder could only produce a similar effect upon a mass of 30,000.

Water would be the purest of all drinks, says Sturm, were it as absolutely simple body; but on the other hand, its medicinal virtue would be reduced to nothing. If we consider the manner in which water nourishes plants, it is easy to presume that it communicates the nutritious juices which it contains, to men and animals in the same way. Water is not very nutritive by itself, but being very subtile, it dissolves the nutritious parts of aliments, is a vehicle for them, and carries them along into the minutest vessels. It is consequently the most wholesome drink; and is essentially necessary to men and animals; and its salutary effects are felt, where all other liquids are found hurtful to health. “The water of Egypt,” says the Abbé Mascrier, “is so delicious, that one would not wish the heat to be less, or to be delivered from the sensation of thirst. The Turks find it so exquisite, that they excite themselves to drink of it by eating salt. It is a common saying among them, that if Mahomed had drank of it, he would have besought God that he might never die, in order to have had this continual gratification. When the Egyptians undertake the pilgrimage of Mecca, or go out of their country on any other account, they speak of nothing but the pleasure they shall have, at their return, in drinking of the waters of the Nile. There is no gratification to be compared to this: it surpasses, in their esteem, that of seeing their relations and families. All those who have tasted of this water, allow that they never met with the like in any other place. When a person drinks of it for the first time, he can scarcely be persuaded that it is not a water prepared by art: for it has something in it inexpressibly agreeable and pleasing to the taste; and it should have the same rank among waters, that champaigne has among wines. But its most valuable quality is, that it is exceedingly salutary. It never incommodes, let it be drank in what quantity it may: this is so true, that it is no uncommon thing to see some persons drink three buckets full of it in a day, without the least inconvenience! When I pass such encomiums on the water of Egypt, it is right to observe, that I speak only of that of the Nile, which indeed is the only water, drinkable, for their well-water is detestable and unwholesome. Fountains are so rare, that they are a kind of prodigy in that country; and as to rain-water, that is out of the question, as scarcely any falls in Egypt.”

Having attended to the situation and properties of water in the world of nature, we shall now show that by this element is represented the blessings of Divine grace in the moral or spiritual world. God is the fountain of living waters, ever-living, all-sufficient, and incessantly flowing; like waters, arising and issuing from a spring, which continue during the whole year: not like waters that proceed only from some excess of rain, such as land-floods, or those flowing down from hills, which in the winter season run in torrents, but in the heat of summer are dried up and fail. Such uncertain waters are well expressed by Job—“My brethren have dealt deceitfully as a brook, and as the stream of brooks they pass away; which are blackish by reason of the ice, and wherein the snow is hid: what time they wax warm they vanish: when it is hot they are consumed out of their place. The paths of their way are turned aside; they go to nothing, and perish. The troops of Tema looked, the companies of Sheba waited for them. They are confounded because they had hoped; they came thither, and were ashamed.” He alludes to those merchants who travelled in companies or caravans, with beasts of burden, through the deserts of Arabia; who, having in the winter observed and marked out in certain places on the road great pools of water, or copious streams locked up in the valleys by severe frosts; so that, when travelling the same road in summer, they expected finding water there still to refresh themselves and their thirsty camels; but, to their great grief and consternation, instead of pools or brooks of water, found heaps of dry sand, occasioned by intense heat. But God is a fountain which sends forth streams of blessings in all seasons, and never fails. The living waters which proceed from him as their fountain, are not stagnant, or dead, but running, like those that issue from springs which are never dry, and possess the most refreshing and invigorating properties.

The element of water is used for washing and purifying the body; so the operation of Divine grace on the soul removes its moral defilement. All the purifications by water under the law, were outward expressions of this inward cleansing. Thus those important words by the prophet Ezekiel, “I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean; from all your filthiness, and from all your idols, will I cleanse you: a new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you.” Accordingly the Psalmist says, “Thou shalt wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.” He also prays, “Create in me a clean heart, oh God; and renew a right spirit within me.” As purity is necessary for enjoying communion with God in all his instituted ordinances, he says, “I will wash mine hands in innocency: so will I compass thine altar, oh Lord.” Similar language is used in the New Testament. Our Lord said to Peter, “If I wash thee not, thou hast no part in me.” The apostle Paul, after mentioning several immoral characters to the Christians at Corinth, says, “And such were some of you: but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God.”

Our Lord gave himself for us, not only that he might redeem us from all iniquity, but also that he might purify us unto himself a peculiar people. This cleansing, washing, and purifying the soul from sin, is, in the Holy Scripture, attributed to the virtual efficacy of his blood. “The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.” “Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood.” The primary effect of his blood is the expiation of sin; and, as a consequence thereof, the remission of it. “This is my blood which is shed for the remission of sins.” “In whom we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins.” Now by the blood of Christ in these places we are to understand his sufferings, which were completed in the shedding of his blood on the cross.

Section II.—The Earth.

Surface of the Earth — Mountains — Fertility of Plants — Dissemination of Seeds — Preservation of Plants — Adaptation to different Climates — Number of vegetables — Succession of vegetables — Remarkable Trees — Sensitive Plants — Kitchen vegetables — Garden flowers — Religious Improvement.

The dry land and the seas constitute what is called the terraqueous globe; what proportion the superficies of the sea bears to that of the land, cannot be easily ascertained; but, as one observes, the earth and the water exist in a most judicious proportion to each other. According to the most exact calculations, the surface of the earth is 199,512,595 square miles; and that of the sea is to the land as three to one. There is no certain measurement of the proportion of land and water which the parts within the polar circles contain. The superficies of the sea appearing so large, may lead some persons to suppose, that the proportions between the land and water are not wisely adjusted; and that had there been less sea and more dry land, this would have been more adapted to the accommodation and service of mankind. As such a supposition as this tends to arraign the wisdom of God, so it proceeds from ignorance of natural philosophy. For, as Dr. Keill asserts, “if there were but half the sea that now is, there would be also only half the quantity of vapors; and, consequently, we could have no more than half so many rivers as there now are, to supply not only all the dry land we have at present, but half as much more; for the quantity of vapors which are raised, bears a proportion to the surface whence they are raised, as well as the heat which raised them. The wise Creator so prudently ordered it, that the sea should be large enough to supply vapors sufficient for all the land, which it would not do if it were less than it now is.”97 The Scriptures speak of God as making all things in number, weight, and measure; as proceeding in his works with the greatest exactness. “He hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out heaven with a span, and comprehended the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance.” Those who wish to see this further illustrated, would do well to consult Ray’s “Wisdom of God manifested in the works of the Creation,” and his “Physico-theological Discourses.”

The stately mountains, that lift their lofty heads above the clouds, serve for very beneficial purposes. Does the bold atheist call them blemishes, and irregularities in the formation of the earth? Surely he never considered how necessary they are, for arresting the clouds in their flight, and conveying their waters through imperceptible channels, till they meet in some common receptacle, whence they burst out in springs to fertilize the lower grounds, and afford refreshing streams for man and beast. “This,” says Mr. Halley, “seems to be the design of the hills, that their ridges, being placed through the midst of the continents, might serve as it were for alembics, to distil fresh water for the use of man and beast; and that their heights might give a descent to those streams to run gently, like so many veins of the microcosm, to be more beneficial to the creation.” They are, says Mr. Ray, “for the generation and maintenance of rivers and fountains, which—on the hypothesis that all proceed from rain water—could not subsist without them, or but rarely. So we should have only torrents, which would fail in summer, or in any dry season, and nothing to trust to, but stagnating water, reserved in pools and cisterns. The great inconvenience resulting from this I need not take pains to show. I say that fountains and rivers would be but rare, were there no mountains. For the whole dry land being but one continued mountain, and ascending all along from the sea to the mid-land, as is undeniably proved by the descent of rivers even in plain countries; the water sinking into the earth, may run under ground, and, according as the vein leads it, break out in the side of this mountain, though the place, as to outward appearance, be a plain. There are huge ridges and extended chains of mountains directed for the most part to run east and west; by which means they give admittance and passage to the vapors, brought by the winds from the Atlantic and Pacific oceans; but stop and inhibit their excursions to the north and south, either condensing them on their sides into water, by a kind of external distillation; or by straitening and constipating them, compelling them to gather into drops, or descend down in the rain.”

After the waters had subsided, the land appeared, dry and fit for vegetation. “And God said, Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit-tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself upon the earth: and it was so. And the earth brought forth grass, and herb yielding seed after his kind, and the tree yielding fruit, whose seed was in itself, after his kind.” Here we rise to organized and vegetative bodies. At the Divine command, herbs, plants, trees, and all the almost endless varieties of the vegetable world, bearing their several seeds and fruits, according to their different kinds, immediately began to appear. Thus before God formed any living creature to dwell upon the earth, he provided abundantly for its sustenance. “Now as God delights to manifest himself in the little as well as the great,” says a celebrated commentator, “he has shown his consummate wisdom in every part of the vegetable creation. Who can account for, or comprehend, the structure of a single tree or plant? The roots, the stem, the woody fibres, the bark, the rind, the air-vessel s, the sap-vessels, the leaves, the flowers, and the fruits, are so many mysteries. All the skill, wisdom, and power of men and angels, could not produce a single grain of wheat!”

Dr. Hales, in his Statistical Essays, has observed, that the substances of vegetables appear, by a chemical analysis, to be composed of sulphur, volatile salt, water, and earth, which are all endued with mutually attracting powers; and also of a large portion of air, which has a wonderful power of strongly attracting in a fixed state, or of repelling in an elastic state, with a power which is superior to great compressive forces.98 By the infinite combinations, action, and reaction of these principles, all the operations in animal and vegetable bodies are effected. These active aërial principles are very serviceable in carrying on the work of vegetation to its perfection and maturity; not only in helping, by their elasticity, to distend each ductile part, but, also, by enlivening and invigorating their sap, where, mixing with the other mutually attracting principles, they are, by gentle heat and motion, set at liberty to assimilate into the nourishment of the respective parts. The sum of the attracting powers of these mutually acting and re-acting principles, is, while in this nutritive state, superior to their repelling power; by which the work of nutrition is gradually advanced by the nearer and nearer union of these principles from a less to a greater degree of consistency, till they are advanced to that viscid, ductile state, whence the several parts of vegetables are formed; and are, at length, firmly compacted into hard substances, by the flying off of the watery diluting vehicle: but when they are again disunited by the watery particles, their repelling power is thereby become superior to their attracting power, and the union of the parts of vegetables is so thoroughly dissolved, that putrefaction commences.

God has endued the vegetable creation with the astonishing power of multiplying itself by seeds, slips, roots. &c. ad infinitum: it contains in itself all the rudiments of the future plants through their endless generations. The celebrated Linnæus, in an “oration concerning the augmentation of the habitable earth,” which proceeds on the supposition of the existence of a sexual system in the vegetable world, shows how from one plant of each species the immense number of individuals now existing might arise. He gives some instances of the surprising fertility of certain plants; as, of the elecampane, one plant of which produced 3,000 seeds; of spelt, 2,000; of the sun-flower, 4,000; of the poppy, 3,200; of tobacco, 40,320: and one grain of Turkey-corn produces 2,000 others! But supposing any annual plant producing yearly only two seeds, even of these, after 20 years, there would be 1,048,576 individuals. For they would increase yearly in a double proportion, viz. 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, &c. The seed of the elm, as a learned author observes, affords a remarkable instance of the prolific power with which the vegetable creation is endued, to multiply its different species. “This tree produces one thousand five hundred and eighty-four millions of seeds; and each of these seeds has the power of producing the same number. How astonishing is this produce! At first one seed is deposited in the earth; from this one a tree springs, which in the course of its vegetative life produces one thousand five hundred and eighty-four millions of seeds. This is the first generation. The second generation will amount to two trillions, five hundred and ten thousand and fifty-six billions. The third generation will amount to fourteen thousand six hundred and fifty-eight quadrillions, seven hundred and twenty-seven thousand and forty trillions! And the fourth generation from these would amount to fifty one sextillions, four hundred and eighty-one thousand three hundred and eighty-one quintillions, one hundred and twenty-three thousand one hundred and thirty-six quadrillions! Sums too immense for the human mind to conceive; and when we allow the most confined space in which a tree can grow, it appears that the seeds of the third generation from one elm would be many myriads of times more than sufficient to stock the whole superficies of all the planets in the solar system!”

While many plants and trees may be propagated by branches, buds, suckers, and leaves fixed in the ground; so concerning the dissemination of seeds after they come to maturity, the Author of nature has wisely provided in various ways; this being absolutely necessary, since without it no crop could follow. The stalks and stems favor this purpose; for these raise the fruit above the ground, so that the winds, shaking them to and fro, widely disperse the ripe seeds. The pericarpium, a pellicle or thin membrane encompassing the fruit or grain of a plant, is generally shut at the top, that the seeds may not fall before they are shaken out by stormy winds. Wings are given to many seeds, by the help of which they fly far from the mother plant, and frequently spread over a large tract of country. These wings consist either of down, as in most of the composite-flowered plants; or of a membrane, as in birch, alder, ash, &c. Several kinds of fruits are endued with a remarkable elasticity, by the force of which the ripe pericarpies throw the seeds to a great distance; as wood-sorrel, spurge, phyllanthus, and dittany. Other seeds or pericarpies are rough, or provided with hooks, as hounds-tongue, agrimony, &c; so that they are apt to stick to animals which pass by them, and by this means are carried to their holes, where they are both sown and manured. Berries, as well as other pericarpies, are by nature allotted for aliment to animals; but, with this condition, that while they eat the pulp, they shall sow the seeds: for when they feed on it, they either disperse them at the same time; or, if they swallow them, they are returned unhurt. The mistletoe always grows on other trees, because the thrush eating its seeds, casts them forth with its dung. The cross-bill living on fircones, and the haw-finch feeding on pinecones, sow many of their seeds.

The structure of plants contributes essentially both to their own preservation, and that of others. But the wisdom of the Creator appears very remarkable in the manner of the growth of trees. For as their roots descend deeper than those of other plants, provision is thereby made that they shall not rob them too much of nourishment;99 and what is still more, a stem, not above a span in diameter, often shoots its branches very high; these bear perhaps many thousand buds, each of which is a plant, with its leaves, flowers, and stipulæ. Now if all these grew on the plain, they would take up a thousand times as much space as trees do; and, in this case, there would scarcely be room in all the earth for so many plants as at present trees alone afford. Besides, plants that shoot up in this way are more easily preserved from cattle by a natural defence: their leaves also, falling in autumn, cover the plants growing about them against the rigor of the winter; and, in the summer, they afford a pleasing shade, not only to animals, but to plants, against the intense heat of the sun. We may add, that trees, like all other vegetables, imbibe water from the earth: which does not circulate again to the root, but being dispersed like small rain, by the transpiration of the leaves, moistens the plants that grow around. Many plants and shrubs are armed with thorns, as the buckthorn, sloe, carduus, cotton-thistle, &c: these serve to keep off animals, which otherwise would destroy their fruit. At the same time, they cover many other plants, especially of the annual kind, under their branches. Nay it has frequently been observed on commons where furze grows, that wherever a bush was left untouched for some years by the inhabitants a tree has sprung up, being secured by the prickles of that shrub from the bite of cattle. So that while adjacent grounds are robbed of plants by voracious animals, some may be preserved to ripen flowers and fruit, and stock the surrounding parts with seeds which otherwise would be quite extirpated. All herbs cover the ground with their leaves, and by their shade hinder it from being totally deprived of that moisture which is necessary to their nourishment. Mosses, which adorn the most barren places, do, at the same time, preserve lesser plants when they begin to shoot, from cold and drought; as is evident in gardens, where plants are preserved in the same way. They also hinder the fermenting earth from forcing the roots of plants upwards in the spring; like what happens annually to trunks of trees, and other things put into the ground. Hence very few mosses grow in warm climates, the same necessity not existing in those places.

The great Author of all things intended that the whole earth should be covered with plants, and that no place should be void or barren. But since all countries have not the same changes of seasons, and every soil is not equally adapted to every plant; therefore, that no place should be without some, he gave to each of them such a nature as might be chiefly accommodated to their own climate: so that some of them can bear intense cold, others an equal degree of heat; some delight in dry ground, others in moist, &c. Hence plants grow where the seasons of the year and the soil are friendly to their constitution. Grasses, the most common of all plants, can bear almost any temperature of air: in this the good providence of the Creator particularly appears; for all over the globe they are necessary for the nourishment of cattle. The same is observed in relation to our most common grains. Thus neither the scorching sun, nor the pinching cold, hinders any country from having vegetables. Nor is there any soil which does not bring forth many kinds of plants. Deserts and sandy places are adorned with trees and plants.

If we connect the vast fecundity of vegetables with their number, how bountiful will the great Author of nature appear! Solomon had a comprehensive knowledge of the different species of plants, for he “spake of trees, from the cedar-tree that is in Lebanon even unto the hyssop that springeth out of the wall;” but his writings on this subject, not being quoted by any ancient author, nor the least fragment remaining, are entirely lost. Theophrastus, a Greek philosopher, who succeeded Aristotle in his school at Athens, where his name became so celebrated that he was attended by two thousand pupils, wrote a work entitled “The History of Plants,” in which above 500 different plants are described. Dioscorides, a Grecian by birth, but under the Roman empire, a physician and botanist in the time of Nero, being near 300 years posterior to Theophrastus, describes about 600 plants. Pliny the elder,100 in his voluminous work entitled “The History of the World,” gives descriptions of above 1,000 different species of plants. Hieronymus Bock, or Bouc, a German, generally known by the name of Tragus, in 1532, published a History of Plants, in which he describes 800 species.

From later botanical researches, we learn, that the bountiful Creator has enriched the earth with about 20,000 different species of vegetables. The following statement of the progress of botanical knowledge has recently been given to the public. Messrs. Humboldt and Boupland, the celebrated travellers, have collected in their five years’ travels through South America, 3,800 species of plants, of which upwards of 3,000 were new, and absolutely unknown before to the botanists of Europe. We are at present acquainted altogether with 44,000 species of plants; while the whole number mentioned by the Greeks, Romans, and Arabians, does not exceed 1,400. It is worth remarking, that the vegetable productions of the new world seem to have been in an inverse ratio, both in point of number and luxuriance, to those of the animal kingdom. In North America, for instance, the number of lofty trees is far greater than in Europe. In the former country, there are found 137 species of trees, whose trunks exceed the height of 30 feet; while in Europe there are scarcely 45 species. But it is singular there are no firs to be found on any part of the mountains of South America, between the tropics, though they are very abundant in North America. The reason why Magnolias, and other equinoxial plants, appear so far north in America, is, that as far as lat. 48 deg. the summers are 9 degrees (of Fahrenheit) hotter than in the corresponding European latitudes. The winters, however, are more than proportionably colder. At Philadelphia the summer is as hot as at Rome; while the winter corresponds with that of Vienna. At Quebec, the summer is warmer than at Paris; the winter colder than at St. Petersburgh. Beyond Lake Superior, and at Hudson’s Bay, it is said that the earth is perpetually frozen at the depth of three feet from the surface, which prevents the inhabitants from digging wells. The same thing happens in Siberia, on the banks of the Lena; while in South America there are cities at a greater height than the highest summit of the Pyrenees, and houses more elevated than the Peak of Teneriffe, the region, in Europe, of perpetual congelation. To this we may add, that Linnæus, the celebrated botanist, divided all plants into classes, the classes into orders, the orders into genera, and the genera into species: and the species, we are told, amount perhaps to 40,000, or 50,000, or more!

The fertility of the earth has been continued from the creation, through every successive period, to the present time. Plants spring up, grow, flourish, ripen their fruit, wither, and at last, having finished their course, die, and return to the dust again, from whence they first took their rise. Thus black mould, which covers the earth, is generally owing to dead vegetables. For all roots descend into the sand by their branches, and after a plant has lost its stem, the root remains; but this too rots at last, and changes into mould. Thus this kind of earth is mixed with sand, by the arrangement of nature, nearly in the same way as dung thrown on fields is wrought into the earth by the industry of the husbandman. But the earth offers again to plants from its bosom what it has thus received. For when seeds are committed to the earth, they draw to themselves, accommodate to their nature, and turn into plants, the more subtile parts of this mould by the co-operation of the sun, air, and rain; so that the tallest tree is, properly speaking, nothing but mould wonderfully compounded with air and water, and modified by a virtue communicated to a small seed by the Creator. From these plants, when they die, just the same kind of mould is formed as gave birth to them originally; whence fertility remains continually uninterrupted. Whereas the earth could not make good its annual consumption, unless it were constantly recruited by new supplies.

That the Author of nature had so constituted the world that none of the elements should be subject to destruction, might have been supposed by the ancients; but, till the present advanced state of the science of chemistry, no proof of this interesting fact could have been adduced. Of the indestructibility of matter it may be remarked, that provision has been made even for the restoration of the fallen leaves of vegetables, which rot on the ground, and, to a careless observer, would appear to be lost for ever. Berthollet has shown by experiment, that, whenever the soil becomes charged with such matter, the oxygen of the atmosphere combines with it, and converts it into carbonic acid gas. The consequence of this is, that this same carbon in process of time is absorbed by a new race of vegetables, which it clothes with a new foliage, and which is itself destined to undergo similar putrefaction and renovation to the end of time.

The selection of a few remarkable trees and plants will serve to impress the reader with a sense of the wisdom and power of God, as displayed in the vegetable kingdom. As rivers and brooks are very seldom found in deserts and sandy places, many of the trees growing there distil water; and, by that means, afford great comfort both to man and beast. Thus the Tillandsia, which is a parasitical plant, growing on the tops of trees in the deserts of America, has its leaves turned at the base into the shape of a pitcher, with the extremity expanded; in these the rain is collected, and preserved for the use of men, beasts, and birds. The water-tree in Ceylon produces cylindrical bladders, covered with a lid; into these is secreted a most pure and refreshing water. There is a kind of cuckow-pint in New France, of which, if a person break a branch, it will afford him a pint of excellent water. How wise, how beneficial is the adaptation of plants to the inhabitants of those countries where they grow!

On the top of a rock, in one of the Canary Islands, says Glass, in his History, grows the Fountain Tree, called, in the language of the ancient inhabitants, Garse, (sacred or holy tree,) which for many years has been preserved sound, entire, and fresh. Its leaves constantly distil such a quantity of water as is sufficient to furnish drink to every living creature in Hierro; nature having provided this remedy for the drought of the island. It is situated about a league and a half from the sea. Nobody knows of what species it is, only that it is called Til. It is distinct from other trees, and stands by itself. The circumference of its trunk is about twelve spans, the diameter four, and in height from the ground to the top of the highest branch forty spans: the circumference of all the branches together, is one hundred and twenty feet. The branches are thick and extended: the lowest commence an ell from the ground. Its fruit resembles the acorn, and tastes something like the kernel of a pine-apple, but is softer and more aromatic. The leaves of this tree resemble those of the laurel, but are larger, wider, and more curved; they come forth in perpetual succession, so that the tree always remains green. On the north side of the trunk, are two large tanks, or cisterns, of rough stone, or rather one cistern divided, each half being twenty feet square, and sixteen spans in depth. One of these contains water for the drinking of the inhabitants; and the other that which they use for their cattle, washing, and such like purposes. Every morning, near this part of the island, a cloud or mist arises from the sea, which the south and easterly winds force against the fore-mentioned steep cliff, so that the cloud, having no vent but by the gutter, gradually ascends it, and from thence advances slowly to the extremity of the valley, where it is stopped and checked by the front of the rock, which terminates the valley, and then rests upon the thick leaves and wide-spreading branches of the tree, from whence it distils in drops, during the remainder of the day, until it is at length exhausted, in the same manner that we see water drip from the leaves of trees after a heavy shower of rain. This tree yields most water in those years when the Levant or easterly winds have prevailed for a continuance, for by these winds only the clouds or mists are drawn hither from the sea. A person lives on the spot near where this tree grows, who is appointed by the council to take care of it, and its water; and is allowed a house to live in, with a certain salary. He every day distributes to each family of the district, seven pots or vessels full of water, besides what he gives to the principal people in the island.

In Cockburn’s Voyages we find the following account of the Dropping Tree, near the mountains of Vera Paz, in America. “On the morning of the fourth day we came out on a large plain where were numbers of fine deer, and in the middle stood a tree of an unusual size, spreading its branches over a vast compass of ground. Curiosity led us up to it; we had perceived, at some distance, the ground about it to be wet, at which we began to be somewhat surprised, as well knowing there had no rain fallen for near six months past, according to the certain course of the season in that latitude; that it was impossible to be occasioned by the fall of dew on the tree, we were convinced, by the sun having power to exhale all moisture of that nature a few minutes after his rising. At last, to our great amazement, as well as joy, we saw water dropping, or, as it were, distilling fast from the end of every leaf of this wonderful (nor had it been amiss, if I had said miraculous) tree; at least it was so with respect to us, who had been laboring four days through extreme heat without receiving the least moisture, and were now almost expiring for the want of it. We could not help looking on this as liquor sent from heaven to comfort us under our great extremity. We catched what we could of it in our hands, and drank very plentifully of it, liking it so well, that we could hardly prevail with ourselves to give it over. A matter of this nature could not but excite us to make the strictest observations concerning it; and accordingly we staid under the tree near three hours: we found that we could not clasp its body by five times. We observed the soil where it grew to be very stony; and upon the nicest inquiry we could afterwards make, both of the natives of the country, and the Spanish inhabitants, we could not learn that there was any such tree known throughout New Spain, nor perhaps all America over.”

The Tallow Tree, mentioned by Du Halde in his History of China, grows in great plenty in that country, producing a substance much like our tallow, and serving for the same purposes. It is about the height of a cherry tree; its leaves are in form of a heart, of a deep shining red color, and its bark very smooth. Its fruit is enclosed in a kind of pod or cover, like a chestnut, and consists of three round white grains, of the size and form of a small nut, each having its peculiar capsule, and within that a little stone. This stone is encompassed with a white pulp, which has all the properties of true tallow, as to consistence, color, and even smell; and accordingly the Chinese make their candles of it, which doubtless would be as good as those in Europe, if they knew how to purify this vegetable as we do the animal tallow, and make their wicks as fine. All the preparation they give it, is to melt it down, and mix a little oil with it, to make it softer and more pliant. It is true, their candles made of it yield a thicker smoke, and give a dimmer light than those of ours; but these defects are owing in a great measure to the wicks, which are not of cotton, but only a little rod or switch of dry light wood, covered with the pith of a rush, wound round it, which, being very porous, serves to filtrate the minute parts of the tallow, attracted by the burning stick, and which by this means is kept burning.

The Tea Tree is a native of China, of very slow growth; it has a black, woody, irregular, branched root, and rises to a fathom high, or rather more. Its leaves are very thick set, without any regularity, and are, in substance, like those of the morella cherry tree; but, when young, they resemble, except in color, the spindle tree, with red berries, called euonymus. The larger leaves are about two inches long, and one broad. The method of gathering them is one by one, lest they should be torn. The first gathering begins at the middle of the first moon, immediately before the vernal equinox; these leaves are scarcely full opened, being only of two or three days growth; but they are accounted the best, fetch the best price, and are called the flower of the tea; but, by the Chinese, veui boui, or bohea tea. The second gathering begins about a month after, and the last gathering is in June; the leaves of the gatherings are sorted into three several classes, according to their size and goodness, and sold accordingly. After the leaves are gathered, they are the same day carried to the work-house, and roasted over a slow fire in an iron pan; and, that they may be thoroughly and equally dried, the roaster keeps them continually stirring with his hands, then takes them out, with a shovel like a fan, and commits them to the rollers, who roll them with the palms of their hands in small parcels, till they are equally cooled, and the sharp yellow and greenish juice is quite discharged. They are then poured upon a mat, and sorted a second time into different classes according to their goodness, and those that are less curled or burnt are taken out.—It is said that the Dutch were the first importers of tea into Europe, about the year 1606, for which they exchanged dried sage with the Chinese: and though the English did certainly about the same time gain a knowledge of this plant, we do not find that the government took any cognizance of it till the Restoration, when in 1660, a duty of eight-pence per gallon was laid on the liquor made, and sold in all coffee-houses.

The Coffee Tree is a native of the Indies, grows surprisingly quick, and its body is naturally of an upright form; its leaves are something like those of the common bay, but curl at the end and hang downwards. The blossoms first appear in July, when they show themselves in bunches at the joints, near the ends of the branches; they are much like the flowers of the jessamine, but have the addition of some yellow apices, which are loose on the top of the blossom, and a style which shoots out near half an inch above it. The fruit appears about October, which hangs on the tree till the next July before it is ripe: it is then gathered and prepared for the market, or for propagating other plants. Coffee is, perhaps, one of the greatest blessings, among those that are not really necessaries of life, that Providence has granted to mankind; and, considering its beneficial qualities as well as its agreeable properties, it should be ranked among the most elegant plants, in foliage, blossom, and fruit. It is a wholesome, pleasant, and cheap beverage, and of great use in many disorders. The origin of the use of coffee is stated to be as follows. A prior of a monastery in the part of Arabia where this berry grows, having remarked that the goats which eat of it became extremely brisk and alert, resolved to try the experiment on his monks, of whom he so continually complained for their lethargic propensities. The experiment turned out successful; and, it is said, it was owing to this circumstance that the use of this Arabian berry came to be so universal.

The Banian Tree is a native of several parts of the East Indies. It has a woody stem, branching to a great height and vast extent, with heart-shaped entire leaves, ending in acute points. Of this tree the following lines of Milton contain a description equally beautiful and just.