In trees, and shrubs, and flowers; the variety of the seed-vessels is incomputable. We have the seeds (as in the pea tribe) regularly disposed in parchment pods, which, though soft and membranous, completely exclude the wet even in the heaviest rains; the pod also, not seldom (as in the bean,) lined with a fine down; at other times (as in the senna) distended like a blown bladder: or we have the seed enveloped in wool, (as in the cotton-plant,) lodged (as in pines) between the hard and compact scales of a cone, or barricadoed (as in the artichoke and thistle) with spikes and prickles; in mushrooms, placed under a penthouse; in fearns, within slits in the back part of the leaf; or (which is the most general organization of all) we find them covered by strong, close tunicles, and attached to the stem according to an order appropriated to each plant, as is seen in the several kinds of grains and of grasses.

In which enumeration, what we have first to notice is, unity of purpose under variety of expedients. Nothing can be more single than the design; more diversified than the means. Pellicles, shells, pulps, pods, husks, skin, scales armed with thorns, are all employed in prosecuting the same intention. Secondly; we may observe, that, in all these cases, the purpose is fulfilled within a just and limited degree. We can perceive, that if the seeds of plants were more strongly guarded than they are, their greater security would interfere with other uses. Many species of animals would suffer, and many perish, if they could not obtain access to them. The plant would overrun the soil; or the seed be wasted for want of room to sow itself. It is, sometimes, as necessary to destroy particular species of plants, as it is, at other times, to encourage their growth. Here, as in many cases, a balance is to be maintained between opposite uses. The provisions for the preservation of seeds appear to be directed, chiefly against the inconstancy of the elements, or the sweeping destruction of inclement seasons. The depredation of animals, and the injuries of accidental violence, are allowed for in the abundance

the pulp of an orange, the meat of a plum, the fatness of the olive, appear to be more than sufficient for the nourishing of the seed or kernel. The event shows, that this redundancy, if it be one, ministers to the support and gratification of animal natures; and when we observe a provision to be more than sufficient for one purpose, yet wanted for another purpose, it is not unfair to conclude that both purposes were contemplated to gether. It favours this view of the subject to remark, that fruits are not (which they might have been) ready all together, but that they ripen in succession throughout a great part of the year; some in summer; some in autumn; that some require the slow maturation of the winter, and supply the spring; also that the coldest fruits grow in the hottest places. Cucumbers, pine apples, melons, are the natural produce of warm climates, and contribute greatly, by their coolness, to the refresh

ment of the inhabitants of those countries.

I will add to this note the following observation communicated to me by Mr. Brinkley :

"The eatable part of the cherry or peach first serves the purposes of perfecting the seed or kernel, by means of vessels passing through the stone, and which are very visible in a peach-stone. After the kernel is perfected, the stone becomes hard, and the vessels cease their functions. But the substance surrounding the stone is not then thrown away as useless. That which was before only an instrument for perfecting the kernel, now receives and retains to itself the whole of the sun's influence, and thereby becomes a grateful food to man. Also what an evident mark of design is the stone prevents the second use from interfering with the first."

protecting the kernel! The intervention of the stone

of the increase. The result is, that out of the many thousand different plants which cover the earth, not a single species, perhaps, has been lost since the creation.

When nature has perfected her seeds, her next care is to disperse them. The seed cannot answer its purpose, whilst it remains confined in the capsule. After the seeds therefore are ripened, the pericarpium opens to let them out; and the opening is not like an accidental bursting, but, for the most part, is according to a certain rule in each plant. What I have always thought very extraordinary; nuts and shells, which we can hardly crack with our teeth, divide and make way for the little tender sprout which proceeds from the kernel. Handling the nut, I could hardly conceive how the plantule was ever to get out of it. There are cases, it is said, in which the seedIvessel by an elastic jerk, at the moment of its explosion, casts the seeds to a distance. We all however know, that many seeds (those of most composite flowers, as of the thistle, dandelion, &c.) are endowed with what are not improperly called wings; that is, downy appendages, by which they are enabled to float in the air, and are carried oftentimes by the wind to great distances from the plant which produces them. It is the swelling also of this downy tuft within the seed-vessel, that seems to overcome the resistance of its coats, and to open a passage for the seed to escape.

But the constitution of seeds is still more admirable than either their preservation or their dispersion. In the body of the seed of every species of plant, or nearly of every one, provision is made for two grand purposes: first, for the safety of the germ; secondly, for the temporary support of the future plant. The sprout, as folded up in the seed, is delicate and brittle beyond any other substance. It cannot be touched without being broken. Yet in beans, peas, grass-seeds, grain, fruits, it is so fenced on all sides, so shut up and protected, that, whilst the seed itself is rudely handled, tossed into sacks, shovelled into heaps, the sacred particle, the miniature plant, remains unhurt. It is wonderful also, how long many kinds of seeds, by the help of their integuments, and perhaps of their oils, stand out against decay. A grain of mustard-seed has been known to lie in the earth for a hundred years; and, as soon as it had acquired a favourable situation, to shoot as vigorously as if just gathered from the plant. Then, as to the second point, the temporary support of the future plant, the matter stands thus. In grain, and pulse, and kernels, and pippins, the germ composes a very small part of the seed. The rest consists of a nutritious substance, from which the sprout draws its aliment for some considerable time after it is put forth; viz. until the fibres, shot out from the other end of the seed, are able to imbibe juices from the earth, in a sufficient quantity for its demand. It is owing to this constitution, that we see seeds sprout, and the sprouts make a considerable progress, without any earth at all. It is an economy also, in which we remark a close analogy between the seeds of plants, and the eggs of animals. The same point is provided for, in the same manner in both. In the egg, the residence of the living principle, the cicatrix forms a very minute part of the contents. The white and the white only is expended in the formation of the chicken. The yolk, very little altered or diminished, is wrapped up in the abdomen of the young

bird, when it quits the shell; and serves for its nourishment, till it have learnt to pick its own food. This perfectly resembles the first nutrition of a plant. In the plant, as well as in the animal, the structure has every character of contrivance belonging to it: in both it breaks the transition from prepared to unprepared aliment; in both, it is prospective and compensatory. In animals which suck, this intermediate nourishment is supplied by a different source.

do

issue, close to each other, two shoots: one bearing
the flower and fruit; the other, drawn out into a
wire, a long, tapering, spiral tendril, that twists
itself round any thing which lies within its reach.
Considering, that in this class two purposes are to
be provided for, (and together,) fructification and
support, the fruitage of the plant, and the susten-
tation of the stalk, what means could be used more
effectual, or, as I have said, more mechanical, than
what the structure presents to our eyes? Why,
or how, without a view to this double purpose,
two shoots, of such different and appropriate
forms, spring from the same joint, from contigu-
ous points of the same stalk? It never happens
thus in robust plants, or in trees.
"We see not
(says Ray) so much as one tree, or shrub, or herb,
that hath a firm and strong stem, and that is able
to mount up and stand alone without assistance,
furnished with these tendrils." Make only so
simple a comparison as that between a pea and a
bean. Why does the pea put forth tendrils, the
bean not; but because the stalk of the pea cannot
support itself, the stalk of the bean can? We
may add, also, as a circumstance not to be over-
looked, that in the pea tribe, these clasps do not
make their appearance till they are wanted; till
the plant has grown to a height to stand in need
of support.

This word "support" suggests to us a reflection upon a property of grasses, of corn, and canes The hollow stems of these classes of plants are set, at certain intervals, with joints. These joints are not found in the trunks of trees, or in the solid stalks of plants. There may be other uses of these joints; but the fact is, and it appears to be, at least, one purpose designed by them, that they corroborate the stem; which, by its length and hollowness, would otherwise be too liable to break or bend.

In all subjects, the most common observations are the best, when it is their truth and strength which have made them common. There are, of this sort, two concerning plants, which it falls within our plan to notice. The first relates to, what has already been touched upon, their germi- | nation. When a grain of corn is cast into the ground, this is the change which takes place. From one end of the grain issues a green sprout; from the other a number of white fibrous threads. How can this be explained? Why not sprouts from both ends? why not fibrous threads from both ends? To what is the difference to be referred, but to design; to the different uses which the parts are thereafter to serve; uses which discover themselves in the sequel of the process? The sprout, or plumule, struggles into the air; and becomes the plant, of which, from the first, it contained the rudiments: the fibres shoot into the earth; and, thereby, both fix the plant to the ground, and collect nourishment from the soil for its support. Now, what is not a little remarkable, the parts issuing from the seed take their respective directions, into whatever position the seed itself happens to be cast. If the seed be thrown into the wrongest possible position; that is, if the ends point in the ground, the reverse of what they ought to do, every thing, nevertheless, goes on right. The sprout, after being pushed down a little way, makes a bend, and turns upwards; the Grasses are Nature's care. With these she fibres, on the contrary, after shooting at first up- clothes the earth; with these she sustains its inwards, turn down. Of this extraordinary vegeta-habitants. Cattle feed upon their leaves; birds ble fact, an account has lately been attempted to upon their smaller seeds; men upon the larger: be given. "The plumule (it is said) is stimulated for, few readers need be told that the plants, which by the air into action, and elongates itself when produce our bread-corn, belong to this class. In it is thus most excited; the radicle is stimulated those tribes, which are more generally considered by moisture, and elongates itself when it is thus as grasses, their extraordinary means and powers most excited. Whence one of these grows up- of preservation and increase, their hardiness, their ward in quest of its adapted object, and the other almost unconquerable disposition to spread, their downward."* Were this account better verified faculties of reviviscence, coincide with the intenby experiment than it is, it only shifts the con- tion of nature concerning them. They thrive trivance. It does not disprove the contrivance; under a treatment by which other plants are deit only removes it a little farther back. Who, to stroyed. The more their leaves are consumed, use our author's own language, "adapted the ob- the more their roots increase. The more they are jects?" Who gave such a quality to these connate trampled upon, the thicker they grow. Many of parts, as to be susceptible of different "stimula- the seemingly dry and dead leaves of grasses retion;" as to be "excited" each only by its own ele-vive, and renew their verdure in the spring. In ment, and precisely by that which the success of the vegetation requires? I say, "which the success of the vegetation requires;" for the toil of the husbandman would have been in vain; his laborious and expensive preparation of the ground in vain; if the event must, after all, depend upon the position in which the scattered seed was sown. Not one seed out of a hundred would fall in a right direction.

Our second observation is upon a general property of climbing plants, which is strictly mechanical. In these plants, from each knot or joint, or, as botanists call it, axilla, of the plant,

* Darwin's Phytologia, p. 144.

lofty mountains, where the summer heats are not sufficient to ripen the seeds, grasses abound, which are viviparous, and consequently able to propagate themselves without seed. It is an observation, likewise, which has often been made, that herbi vorous animals attach themselves to the leaves of grasses; and, if at liberty in their pastures to range and choose, leave untouched the straws which support the flowers.*

The GENERAL properties of vegetable nature, or properties common to large portions of that kingdom, are almost all which the compass of our ar gument allows to bring forward. It is impossible

* Withering, Bot. Arr. vol. i p. 28 ed. 2d.

to follow plants into their several species. We structure of this plant, we find that instead of its may be allowed, however, to single out three or being neglected, Nature has gone out of her course four of these species as worthy of a particular no-to provide for its security, and to make up to it for tice, either by some singular mechanism, or by some peculiar provision, or by both.

all its defects. The sced-vessel, which in other plants is situated within the cup of the flower, or 1. In Dr. Darwin's Botanic Garden (1. 395, just beneath it, in this plant lies buried ten or note,) is the following account of the vallisneria, twelve inches under ground within the bulbous as it has been observed in the river Rhone.-root. The tube of the flower, which is seldom "They have roots at the bottom of the Rhone. more than a few tenths of an inch long, in this The flowers of the female plant float on the sur- plant extends down to the root. The stiles in all face of the water, and are furnished with an elas-cases reach the seed-vessel; but it is in this, by an tic, spiral stalk, which extends or contracts as the elongation unknown to any other plant. All these water rises or falls; this rise or fall, from the tor- contribute to one end. "As this plant blossoms rents which flow into the river, often amounting late in the year, and probably, would not have to many feet in a few hours. The flowers of the time to ripen its seeds before the access of winter, male plant are produced under water; and, as which would destroy them: Providence has consoon as the fecundating farina is mature, they se- trived its structure such, that this important office parate themselves from the plant; rise to the sur-may be performed at a depth in the earth out of face; and are wafted by the air, or borne by the reach of the usual effects of frost."* That is to currents, to the female flowers." Our attention say, in the autumn nothing is done above ground in this narrative will be directed to two particu- but the business of impregnation; which is an aflars: first, to the mechanism, the "elastic, spiral fair between the antheræ and stigmata, and is prostalk," which lengthens or contracts itself accord-bably soon over. The maturation of the impreg ing as the water rises or falls; secondly, to the nated seed, which in other plants proceeds within provision which is made for bringing the male a capsule, exposed together with the rest of the flower, which is produced under water, to the fe- flower to the open air, is here carried on, and dur male flower which floats upon the surface. ing the whole winter, within the heart, as we may say, of the earth, that is, "out of the reach of the usual effects of frost." But then a new difficulty presents itself: seeds, though perfected, are known not to vegetate at this depth in the earth. Our seeds, therefore, though so safely lodged, would, after all, be lost to the purpose for which all seeds are intended. Lest this should be the case, "a second admirable provision is made to raise them above the surface when they are perfected, and to sow them at a proper distance; viz. the germ grows up in the spring, upon a fruit stalk, accompanied with leaves. The seeds now, in common with those of other plants, have the benefit of the summer, and are sown upon the surface. The order of vegetation externally is this:-The III. A better known parasitical plant is the ever-plant produces its flowers in September; its leaves green shrub, called the mistletoe. What we have and fruits in the spring following. to remark in it, is a singular instance of compen- V. I give the account of the d:onæa muscipula, sation. No art hath yet made these plants take an extraordinary American plant, as some late root in the earth. Here therefore might seem to be authors have related it: but whether we be yet a mortal defect in their constitution. Let us ex- enough acquainted with the plant, to bring every amine how this defect is made up to them. The part of this account to the test of repeated and seeds are endued with an adhesive quality, so familiar observation, I am unable to say. "Its tenacious, that if they be rubbed upon the smooth leaves are jointed and furnished with two rows of bark of almost any tree, they will stick to it. And strong prickles; their surfaces covered with a then what follows? Roots, springing from these number of minute glands, which secrete a sweet seeds, insinuate their fibres into the woody sub- liquor that allures the approach of flies. When stance of the tree; and the event is, that a mis- these parts are touched by the legs of flies, the tletoe plant is produced next winter. Of no other two lobes of the leaf instantly spring up, the rows plant do the roots refuse to shoot in the ground; of prickles lock themselves fast together, and of no other plant do the seeds possess this adhe-squeeze the unwary animal to death." Here, sive, generative quality, when applied to the bark of trees.

II. My second example I take from Withering's Arrangement, vol. ii. p. 209. ed. 3. "The cuscuta europea is a parasitical plant. The seed opens, and puts forth a little spiral body, which does NOT seek the earth, to take root; but climbs in a spiral direction, from right to left, up other plants, from which, by means of vessels, it draws its nourishment." The "little spiral body" proceeding from the seed, is to be compared with the fibres which seeds send out in ordinary cases: and the comparison ought to regard both the form of the threads and the direction. They are straight; this is spiral. They shoot downwards; this points upwards. In the rule, and in the exception, we equally perceive design.

under a new model, we recognise the ancient plan of nature, viz. the relation of parts and provisions IV. Another instance of the compensatory sys- to one another, to a common office, and to the tem is in the autumnal crocus, or meadow saffron utility of the organized body to which they belong. (colchicum autumnale.) I have pitied this poor The attracting syrup, the rows of strong prickles, plant a thousand times. Its blossom rises out of their position so as to interlock the joints of the the ground in the most forlorn condition possi-leaves; and, what is more than the rest, that sinble; without a sheath, a fence, a calyx, or even a leaf to protect it: and that, not in the spring, not to be visited by summer suns, but under all the disadvantages of the declining year. When we come, however, to look more closely into the

* Withering, Bot. Arr. vol. i. p. 203. ed. 2d.

gular irritability of their surfaces, by which they close at a touch; all bear a contributory part in producing an effect, connected either with the defence or with the nutrition of the plant.

Withering, ubi supra, p. 360.

† Smellie's Phil. of Nat. Hist. vol. i. p. 5.

CHAPTER XXI.

The Elements.

phere raises the water and leaves the salt. Pure and fresh as drops of rain descend, they are collected from brine. If evaporation be solution (which seems to be probable,) then the air dissolves the water, and not the salt. Upon whatever it be founded, the distinction is critical; so much so, that when we attempt to imitate the process by art, we must regulate our distillation with great care and nicety, or, together with the water, we get the bitterness, or at least, the distastefulness, of the marine substance: and after all it is owing to this original elective power in the air, that we can effect the separation which we wish, by any art or means whatever.

WHEN We come to the elements, we take leave of our mechanics; because we come to those things, of the organization of which, if they be organized, we are confessedly ignorant. This ignorance is implied by their name. To say the truth, our investigations are stopped long before we arrive at this point. But then it is for our comfort to find, that a knowledge of the constitution of the elements is not necessary for us. For instance, as Addison has well observed, "we know water sufficiently, when we know how to boil, By evaporation, water is carried up into the how to freeze, how to evaporate, how to make it air; by the converse of evaporation, it falls down fresh, how to make it run or spout out, in what upon the earth. And how does it fall? Not by quantity and direction we please, without know- the clouds being all at once reconverted into ing what water is." The observation of this ex-water, and descending like a sheet; not in rushing cellent writer has more propriety in it now, than it had at the time it was made: for the constitution, and the constituent parts, of water, appear in some measure to have been lately discovered; yet it does not, I think, appear, that we can make any better or greater use of water since the discovery, than we did before it.

We can never think of the elements, without reflecting upon the number of distinct uses which are consolidated in the same substance. The air supplies the lungs, supports fire, conveys sound, reflects light, diffuses smells, gives rain, wafts ships, bears up birds. 'E UTOS T Uтa: water, besides maintaining its own inhabitants, is the universal nourisher of plants, and through them of terrestrial animals; is the basis of their juices and fluids; dilutes their food; quenches their thirst, floats their burdens. Fire warms, dissolves, enlightens ; is the great promoter of vegetation and life, if not necessary to the support of both.

We might enlarge, to almost any length we pleased, upon each of these uses; but it appears to me almost sufficient to state them. The few remarks which I judge it necessary to add, are as follow:

I. AIR is essentially different from earth. There appears to be no necessity for an atmosphere's investing our globe; yet it does invest it: and we see how many, how various, and how important, are the purposes which it answers to every order of animated, not to say of organized beings, which are placed upon the terrestrial surface. I think that every one of these uses will be understood upon the first mention of them, except it be that of reflecting light, which may be explained thus:-If I had the power of seeing only by means of rays coming directly from the sun, whenever I turned my back upon the luminary, I should find myself in darkness. If I had the power of seeing by reflected light, yet by means only of light reflected from solid masses, these masses would shine indeed, and glisten, but it would be in the dark. The hemisphere, the sky, the world, could only be illuminated, as it is illuminated, by the light of the sun being from all sides, and in every direction, reflected to the eye, by particles, as numerous, as thickly scattered, and as widely diffused, as are those of the air.

down in columns from a spout; but in moderate drops, as from a colander. Our watering-pots are made to imitate showers of rain. Yet, a priori, I should have thought either of the two former methods more likely to have taken place than the last.

By respiration, flame, putrefaction, air is rendered unfit for the support of animal life. By the constant operation of these corrupting principles, the whole atmosphere, if there were no restoring causes, would come at length to be deprived of its necessary degree of purity. Some of these causes seem to have been discovered; and their efficacy ascertained by experiment. And so far as the discovery has proceeded, it opens to us a beautiful and a wonderful economy. Vegetation proves to be one of them. A sprig of mint, corked up with a small portion of foul air, placed in the light, renders it again capable of supporting life or flame. Here, therefore, is a constant circulation of benefits maintained between the two great provinces of organized nature. The plant purifies, what the animal has poisoned; in return, the contaminated air is more than ordinarily nutritious to the plant. Agitation with water turns out to be another of these restoratives. The foulest air, shaken in a bottle with water for a sufficient length of time, recovers a great degree of its purity, Here then again, allowing for the scale upon which nature works, we see the salutary effects of storms and tempests. The yesty waves, which confound the heaven and the sea, are doing the very thing which was done in the bottle. Nothing can be of greater importance to the living creation, than the salubrity of their atmosphere. It ought to reconcile us therefore to these agitations of the elements, of which we sometimes deplore the consequences, to know that they tend, powerfully to restore to the air that purity, which so many causes are constantly impairing.

II. In water, what ought not a little to be admired, are those negative qualities which constitute its purity. Had it been vinous, or oleaginous, or acid; had the sea been filled, or the rivers flowed, with wine or milk; fish, constituted as they are, must have died; plants, constituted as they are, would have withered; the lives of animals which feed upon plants, must have perished. Its Another general quality of the atmosphere is very insipidity, which is one of those negative quathe power of evaporating fluids. The adjust-lities, renders it the best of all menstrua. Having ment of this quality to our use is seen in its action no taste of its own, it becomes the sincere vehicle upon the sea. In the sea, water and salt are of every other. Had there been a taste in water, mixed together most intimately, yet the atmos- be it what it might, it would have infected every

thing we ate or drank, with an importunate repe- | ficult to conceive, it is easy to prove. A drop of tition of the same flavour.

My opinion of Astronomy has always been, that it is not the best medium through which to IV. Of light (whether we regard it as of the prove the agency of an intelligent Creator; but same substance with fire, or as a different sub-that, this being proved, it shows, beyond all other stance,) it is altogether superfluous to expatiate upon the use. No man disputes it. The observations, therefore, which I shall offer, respect that little which we seem to know of its constitution. Light travels from the sun at the rate of twelve millions of miles in a minute. Urged by such a velocity, with what force must its particles drive against (I will not say the eye, the tenderest of animal substances, but) every substance, animate or inanimate, which stands in its way! It might seem to be a force sufficient to shatter to atoms the hardest bodies.