would diffuse the seeds of plants very generally over every region; and, where circumstances were favorable, those which happened to be deposited on or near the surface, would quickly vegetate. But there is reason to believe that another process has likewise been extensively employed.

If we consult our historical and geographical communications on this subject, we find that the vegetation of many countries which have been examined, and of all newly-formed islands, has been, and still continues to be, progressive; and we may trace it ourselves on many places near our domestic residence. We have already noticed the first processes in the formation of soil, which are still in progress. We see the lichen class arise as their minute seeds descend, and decay and reappear from new germinal matter, till they have formed enough of vegetable substance for the sporules of the mosses, which, at their seasons of fructification, float extensively in the atmosphere, to fix on and to grow from. These mosses, also, vegetate and decay; and on their decayed remains, a new vegetation of the same sort springs up, in like manner to die, and become a thicker mould for the germination of the passing seeds of other plants. Every year thus produces a new bed of vegetable matter, which is frequented by the seeds of new plants, and, in time, of trees, as various causes bring them to the spot. Thus, in the course of a few years, every new coral island that is made by its petty architects, and every volcanic one that rises in the sea, become covered with plants and

trees.

It has been observed of the rocky places, where only the lower and smaller classes of vegetable nature can subsist, that the seminal particles do not spring up from some, but yet will evolve from others. Each, as it floats along the ever-moving breeze, selects, as it were, its own proper bed of nutrition, and there unfolds its efflorescence, and produces its successor. Aqueous plants would in like manner arise, as their seeds were wafted to watery places. And in this way, vegetation has, assuredly, in many instances, spread from the district where it was

flourishing, to those which it had not before reached. The processes I have mentioned would soon clothe the earth with an abundant vegetation, and would every where precede the dispersion of the lower animals, or man, providing for them the means of subsistence, to whatever region they should happen to wander.

That one of the means by which vegetation has been spread over the earth, is the gradual dispersion which I have described, is certain from the fact which history and observation unite in establishing, that the larger portion of the herbs and trees, which any nation now possesses, has been thus successfully introduced. We can trace the chronology, and date at no very distant period the origin, of no small part of our own vegetation; as we can also of several of our fishes, birds, and quadrupeds. It is natural to infer, from what we know to have thus taken place in the latter ages of the world, that similar processes operated in its primordial times.

It must further be observed, that the vegetable soil on the surface of the earth, is, by the very process of alternate growth and decay, always tending to greater depth and fertility, at least in the more favored situations. Hence it follows, that localities are constantly changing their capacity for sustaining particular kinds of vegetables, and this consideration alone renders it probable that the vegetation of every country has progressively advanced in the multiplicity of its species, according as the mould became fitted to receive and nurture the more important plants.

Whether the primeval creation of vegetation was its instantaneous and universal diffusion over all the globe, or the emergence of it only on so much of the surface as would allow every species to appear, with a subsequent dissemination of it to every other part, by gradual succession, still we may be sure, that the same results would occur on either system. If the first formation were immediate and general, it would be but an instantaneous production of the same effects as the progressive diffusion would occasion. No spot could or would have the whole body of all plants upon it, but every place would

have its own suitable vegetation, whether immediate or gradual. The marsh, and the seashore, and the bed of the ocean, would protrude those of the watery species; the rock would retain the lichen; the barren soils would receive the heath or the thistle; the valley would cherish those that suit the low ground; and the mountain possess such as flourish best on elevated regions, while trees would arise in the localities fittest for their production. Each district would have at first what would grow best upon it, and all would begin the disseminating process, as soon as their reproductive systems came into action. Diffusion is the law, and must have been in constant operation, from the first period of their being. Those parts which had only the minor species of plants, would have those of the higher classes, as soon as sufficient seasons and their decayed foliage had prepared a soil adapted to the germination of their arriving seeds. Whatever was brought or wafted, would vegetate only where it found a soil fitted for its nature; and thus, within a century after its creation, the surface of the earth would be in the same state, as to its herbage and forests, whether they originated from a particular locality, or from a universal formation.

TENTH WEEK-SUNDAY.

THE SOWER.

THE most important operation in the fields at this season, is unquestionably the sowing of the seed. On it, the support of man, and many of the inferior animals, chiefly depends. But, independently of the importance of his labors, the sower, as he stalks along the freshly ploughed field, is one of the most pleasing objects that Spring presents to our observation. The sight of him heightens our enjoyment of the passing season, and in an instant transports us to the yellow treasures of harvest.

There are associated with him many pleasant feelings, many poetic images; and if ever the oft-imagined picture of a peaceful age strikes us with all the force of reality, it is when we see him scattering the seed from his wellfilled sheet, and surrounded with the various lively adjuncts of rural labor.

But the sower may be made the subject of much profitable reflection, well suited to the employments of this holy day. His labors are, of all others, pregnant with instruction. Why does he toilfully traverse the rough furrows, and cast from him the valuable grain to rot in the ground? Why does he, with much pains and industry, first prepare the soil, and, even when the seed is sown, tend it with unwearied diligence? It is because he confidently expects a bounteous return for all his anxiety and labor. He thus practically shows an unwavering belief in a coming harvest. Now, what lies at the bottom of this belief, which is as strong as assurance itself, but his experience of the undeviating uniformity of the great laws by which the world is governed? And what are these laws but the operations of the Supreme Ruler of heaven and earth? The sower, then, even though his understanding be unenlightened, and his heart untouched with pious emotion, may be said to depend upon the continually exerted goodness of that God who animates and directs all nature, and who pronounced the primeval promise, "While the earth remaineth, seed-time and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night, shall not cease." He knows that the seed he commits to the earth immediately corrupts; but that the miracle of the green blade springing up from the decayed husk, and containing the germs of the future grain, will not be performed, never once enters his mind. With the implicit belief of a child, he awaits the unfolding and ripening of the precious ear. And what ground has he for his trust, we again ask, but the goodness and faithfulness of God? Thus, the sower, in regard to temporal things.

Now, the same Almighty Being who has pledged his word for the continuance of seed-time and harvest, and

has promised "seed to the sower and bread to the eater, has also promised to feed His people with the bread of life, and to make them "reap if they faint not." But while we admit his gracious promises, we continually exhibit a practical distrust in them all. We share the hope of the sower, and with him expect to be annually supplied with food; but our expectation of a constant supply of spiritual good things is neither so cherished nor so lively; as if God were indeed more solicitous to support our mortal bodies, than to feed with heavenly food the undying spirits within us. We are ever apt to be so grossly inconsistent, as firmly to rely upon the constancy of Nature, and yet have a feeble faith in the written promises of Nature's God. We believe that, in a few short months, harvest will assuredly arrive; but we realize not, with the proper vividness and power, the glorious harvest to be reaped by the redeemed, both in "the life that now is, and in that which is to come. Yet our plain duty is, to trust God in all things, in his word as well as in his works; to expect the spiritual sustenance and joy he has promised to his duteous children, with the same faith that we display in looking forward to the budding beauty of spring, or the teeming abundance of autumn.

When we see the sower scattering his seed, we are naturally reminded of the apostle's beautiful illustration of the resurrection of the body. The grain deposited in the earth soon corrupts and dissolves; but yet there upspring from it the elements of other seed; it dies, but is immediately quickened for the production of grain like itself. So our mortal bodies are laid in the grave, and moulder away into their native earth; but the day is coming, when, from their silent restingplaces, they shall rise to the reenjoyment of life and breath. The tomb has also its wondrous and instantaneous spring and as the grain that rises from the ground is not that which was sown, though essentially produced by it, so the risen bodies of the just are not the corruptible bodies that now descend to the earth, but glorified and spiritual frames, meet for heaven and unfading joy; incorruptible and

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VIII.