REFLECTIONS UPON THE WORKS OF GOD, AS DISPLAYED IN NATURE. JULY 1. ALL our different sorts of corn, and many of our vegetables, derive their origin from foreign countries, generally those of a higher temperature than ours. The greatest part of them came from Italy; Italy obtained them from Greece; and Greece from the East. When America was discovered, many plants and flowers were found that till then were unknown, and have since been transplanted to Europe, where they have been cultivated with great success: and the English still take great pains to cultivate in their own country many different plants from North America. Most of the different species of corn, which form the best kind of nutriment for men and animals, are graminous; and though they are now completely naturalized to our soil, and the fields are covered with them, they are of foreign growth. Rye and wheat are indigenous in Little Tartary and Siberia, where they still grow without culture. From what country barley and oats were first introduced we are ignorant; but we may be assured they are not natives of this climate, or it would not be necessary to cultivate them. Rice is the produce of Ethiopia, whence it was carried into the East, and afterward to Italy. Since the commence. ment of the eighteenth century, it has been cultivated in America, and we now import from that country 'great quantities of this useful grain. Buck-wheat originally came from Asia; it was introduced into Italy at the time of the crusades, from whence it was brought to Germany. VOL. II. B Most of our pulse and herbs have also a foreign origin. Borage comes from Syria; cresses from Crete; the cauliflower from Cyprus; and asparagus from Asia. We are indebted to Italy for the chervil; to Portugal and Spain for the dill-seed; to the Canary Islands for fennel; and to Egypt for anniseed and parsley. Garlic is a production of the East; shallots come from Siberia, and the horse-radish from China. We are indebted to the East Indies for kidneybeans; to Astracan for pompions; to France for lentils; and to Brazil for potatoes. The Spaniards brought the tobacco plant from Cuba, where the finest species of tobacco is found. Some of our most beautiful flowers are also the produce of foreign countries. Jessamine comes from the East Indies; the elder-tree from Persia; the tulip from Cappadocia ; the narcissus or daffodil from Italy; the lily from Syria; the tuberose from Java and Ceylon; the pink from Italy; and the aster from China. Let us regard these gifts of Nature with joy and gratitude, and thank our heavenly Father for the abundance of his bounty, in thus contributing to our pleasure and wellbeing, by making the remotest regions of the earth tributary to our necessities. Let us also endeavour to become acquainted with the nature of the globe which we inhabit. There is an universal transmigration over all the earth; men, animals, and vegetables, are transplanted from one country to another and may we all, wherever our lot may be cast, endeavour to do our duty as men, and so live that our names shall be revered by the just and the good whilst living, and when happily transplanted to that country where our toils shall end, and our troubles cease, our memory shall be blessed, and our departure be lamented, by thousands who have tasted of the sweets of our converse, and received the benefits of our exertions for the general good of mankind! JULY II. Transformation of Caterpillars. THE transformation of a caterpillar into a butterfly is a very curious phenomenon, and highly deserving of our attention. The manner in which caterpillars prepare for their change is truly wonderful: they do not immediately become butterflies, but pass first through a sort of middle state. After shedding its coat three or four times, the caterpillar strips itself of its last skin, and becomes a substance not in the least resembling a living creature. It is then enveloped in a hard shell called chrysalis or nympha, in which state it remains two or three weeks, sometimes even for six or ten months, until at length it comes out in the form of a butterfly. There are two kinds of butterflies; the wings of one are raised, those of the other are flat; the first species fly during the day, the latter by night. The caterpillar of the night-butterfly spins a cone, and shuts itself up in it when the time of its transformation approaches. Those which, when become butterflies, fly during the day, suspend themselves in the open air on a tree, a plant, a wall, &c. In order to do this, they spin themselves a very small web, with an extremely fine thread, and then suspend themselves in such a manner that their heads are a little bent back towards the top. Some of these caterpillars, particularly those of the hairy species, remain in this state, hanging perpendicularly with their heads downward; others spin a thread, which passes round the middle of their body, and which is fastened at both sides. In one or other of these ways all caterpillars of the day-butterfly prepare for the great revolution they are about to undergo. Thus both species of caterpillars bury themselves alive, and seem quietly to await the termination of their caterpillar state, as if they knew that after a short repose they would receive a new existence, and appear again under a more brilliant form. From considering the transformation of the caterpillar into the butterfly, we may proceed to the consideration of a much more noble and exalted subject, the death and resurrection of the righteous. Death resembles a state of sleep, a soft repose, in which our nature rests after the toils, the pains, and the miseries of this life. For the space of a moment we are deprived of sensibility and motion, that we may awaken to glory and a happy existence. What is a caterpillar? A creeping worm, insignificant and despised, which, whilst it crawls along through life, is exposed to various accidents and injuries. And what is man? Is his condition in this world much better? Is he affluent and fortunate, he flutters gaily in the beams of prosperity, and often, equally insignificant with the butterfly, struts his hour, and passes into airy nothing, unlamented and unregarded. But these, compared with the children of penury and misfortune, are few: the greater part of men have to pass from their cradle to their grave through toil, misery, and poverty; most have to labour from morn till night like beasts of burthen, without the power or the hope of enlarging their minds, and expanding their ideas beyond the confined atmosphere of their workshop, or the ale-house, where they herd together to solace themselves with smoke and beer after the fatigues of the day. As the caterpillar prepares with care for its transformation, and the state of inaction and insensibility which it is shortly to undergo; so in a different way, but not less earnestly, does the good man prepare for, and expect with a cheerful acquiescence and fond hope, that awful change when he is to undergo a temporary death, to enter into a joyful state of perfection and immortality. The sleep of the caterpillar is not perpetual, it is merely the precursor of a new state of existence: after its transformation it appears again more perfect and brilliant: before, it crept upon the earth; it now flies in the air, and lightly skims over the surface of a thousand flowers, sipping honey and nectareous dew. In all this we may observe a lively emblem of the death and resurrection of a righteous man. That body which was feeble, sensual, and gross, refined from its earthly nature, puts on a glorious immortality, and is clothed with perfection that mind which was so limited in its faculties and confined in its powers, subject to passions and emotions that degraded its heavenly essence, so contracted and weak that it could not penetrate mists of prejudice, and so blind that it could not perceive truth, now, pure as light, and boundless as infinity, views the whole extent of nature, and sees at once millions of worlds; communes with angels, and expands to the infinite God, the source of all power, wisdom, and glory. We have here an important lesson: if this be the glorious change we expect, let us make timely and ef fectual preparation for it. If our present state be but transitory and imperfect, let us not make it our chief object: let not the few moments which are allotted us for our pre |