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.