the instant of its birth, and enclose it by itself within a glass, though secluded from all communication with other insects, it will produce a young one as soon as it has acquired a certain degree of growth, and in a few weeks it will be surrounded by a numerous family. If the experiment be repeated upon one of its young, the result will yet be the same, though continued for many generations: which proves, that these creatures engender of themselves, without copulation.

Another singularity worthy of observation is, that in some species of insects the males have wings, whilst the females are destitute of them: but in the class of which we are now treating, both sexes are alike in that respect; being either both furnished with wings, or both destitute of them. Those which have wings are so extremely small, that they are seen walking upon those that have none. This remarkable instance of the singularities of nature, so widely different from the common rules, and where at the same time so much wisdom is observable, leads us naturally to ask, Whence these peculiarities in nature proceed, and why has the Creator thought fit sometimes to deviate from the accustomed laws? To answer these questions in a satisfactory manner we ought to be able at once to embrace the whole of the creation, to comprehend all the parts of the vast kingdom of nature, with all their uniting links, and justly to appreciate in what and how far any thing would be advantageous or prejudicial to the whole. But from the limited nature of our faculties, such an extensive range of knowledge is denied us, and we must be satisfied with some general reasoning which may in some degree resolve our doubts, and answer the question to our satisfaction.

In the first place, by these singularities in the productions of nature, we see the command which God has over her: He is the Supreme Governor, who assigns to each being the laws which he is to observe; and he who has the power to make, has also the right to suspend laws, and to make whatever exceptions he pleases. Secondly, we every where find in nature a great variety of objects which give us occasion

to rejoice in their contemplation, and to admire the glory of the Creator. It is easy to perceive how much these exceptions to general rules increase the variety we observe, and consequently the pleasure of the observer, as well as his admiration for the Author of nature. In the third place, experience teaches us that the objects which we daily see, become familiar, and the often-repeated impression renders us less attentive to their beauties. The magnificent spectacle of nature does not always interest us, because we acquire the habit of lightly passing over those things which we continually witness. Thus, each singularity, each unusual appearance, by arresting our attention, tends to invite us to contemplate, as well as to call forth our admiration of, the works of God. And lastly, we may consider the singularities of the physical world, so far from diminishing the perfection of the whole, enter into the plan of the Divine Wisdom, and, together with the singularities of the moral world, are under the direction of an all-wise Being, who governs all for endless glory, perfection, and happiness.

JULY I.

Foreign Plants.

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 commencement 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.

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 aniseed 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 well-being, by making the remotest regions of the earth tributary to our necessities. Let us also endeavour to become acquainted There is an with the nature of the globe which we inhabit. 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