envelope of closest texture, through which evaporation is difficult if not impossible. The coolness of fruit in hot climates is remarkable. Dr Hooker relates that the juice of the milky Mudar, growing by the side of the Ganges, was found to have a temperature of 720 Fahrenheit, while the damp sand on which it flourished was scorching in a heat that reached from 90° to 104°. But, in order to enjoy the coolness of tropical fruit in perfection, it must be eaten soon after it has been gathered. With the extinction of life its power to resist heat ceases also, and by falling under the same laws as other dead matters, it soon acquires their temperature. In our survey of the "green things upon the earth" let us ever gratefully remember the means which they providentially supply for combating the diseases to which flesh is heir. Herbs possessing medicinal virtues are, like mineral waters, widely distributed over the globe. The most valuable drugs may, perhaps, be considered as belonging more especially to tropical countries, where the stimuli of light and heat develope in perfection the various vegetable principles to which they own their virtues; but commerce has abundantly placed most of them within our reach. Yet even to countries situated in higher latitudes Providence has been bountiful. As for ourselves, it may be affirmed that, were the supply of foreign drugs to fail, we could still obtain from our native plants a "materia medica" of the utmost value. Time was when every abbey and monastery in the land had its "physic garden" and stores of simples; and when the priest, on whose skill the whole district was dependent, searched the woods and fields and river banks in quest of the herbs with which he was to assuage suffering.

As autumn draws on, the leaves begin to prepare for a new sphere of usefulness; for as yet they have been

passing through one phase only of their mission in nature's economy. Yet what a life of serviceable activity has been theirs since they issued from the bud in spring! First, let us thankfully acknowledge how much they have contributed by their beauty to gladden the aspect of the earth. They have moderated evaporation from the soil, and shielded it from excessive heat and cold. Under the thick foliage cattle have sought shelter from sun and storm, and many a timid creature has found in it a safe refuge against pursuing enemies. Every single leaf has done its part in the work of perfecting the sap of the plant on which it lived. And leaves have purified the atmosphere from the poison with which it was contaminated, and have prepared it anew for the respiration of the animal world. But now "the turn of the year" is creeping upon them. Their pleasing tints of green are passing into warning shades of red and yellow. The flow of sap grows languid in their veins, and the sharp night frosts shrivel and crisp them up. The melancholy "fall" is at hand. The vitality of the shed foliage is gone, and it is about to come under the action of another Power of the Lord. No longer upheld by life, the leaves must yield themselves, like the other dead matter around, to the inexorable laws of chymistry. Wind and weather will soon break up their delicate texture, until, reduced at last to mould, they will mix with and enrich the soil, and serve in their turn as food for other plants. Not a leaf will be lost, for each will contribute something towards the general good. Thus amid the boundless profusion of nature economy is ever the ruling law. The fragments are gathered, and nothing is wasted. Bountifulness and thrift go hand in hand.

Rich are the recollections of enjoyment associated with the hours spent among the "green things of the

earth," when every sense we possess was gratified in its turn. There was beauty for the eye, perfumes floated in the air, and sounds that were sweet and fascinating broke pleasingly upon the ear. The treat was one we could not prize too highly, for our Father himself had spread it out before us for our enjoyment. Nature might have been made dull, colourless, silent, and unattractive, or we might have been formed without the power to appreciate it; but the Creator has made it lovely, and has given us minds to see and feel its loveliness. Shall we not, then, cherish the gift? Can we for a moment doubt that, if we neglect or despise it, we are frustrating the purpose for which it was bestowed?

Our Lord himself illustrated many of his precepts by examples derived from the vegetable kingdom. The lilies, the wheat and the tares, and the grain of mustardseed, are all associated in our minds with His teaching. Moral lessons-calls to duty-causes for thankfulness— reasons for praise-and the desire to adore, flow gently in upon our thoughtful contemplations in field and forest. In surveying "the green things upon the earth" we see how unspeakably our Father has blessed and cared for us. We look and analyse, we trace, calculate, and study the All-merciful and the All-wise, and our hearts are filled to overflowing with "wonder, love, and praise.”

"Let all thy works praise Thee, O Lord," or, as it might be expressed, Let Thy children, inspired by the contemplation of thy works, praise Thee, as the Psalmist exhorts, "with understanding." Viewed in this light the plantal world is no longer silent, but justifies through us the invocation of the Benedicite. It speaks in a language almost infinitely varied, but the lofty theme it proclaims is ever the same. Like the "voices of the stars," the green things upon the earth are truly a fair Hymn of

Praise written all over the land, not in dull words, but in living characters of beauty. May we not also regard them as smiling monitors placed everywhere around our path to whisper to us thoughts of God's greatness and love?

Delight thou in the Lord; and He shall give thee thy heart's desire. Ps. xxxvii.

BEASTS AND CATTLE.

O all ye Beasts, and Cattle, bless ye the Lord: praise Him, and magnify Him for ever.

F all the scientific objects of man's study, Natural History is, after Astronomy perhaps, the most fascinating. Its class-room is the fair field of nature, while its details not only charm us by their intrinsic interest, but, by exhibiting the perfection with which every creature has been constructed with reference to its way of life, lead our thoughts adoringly upwards to the Creator. No pursuit forms a more healthy relaxation for the body, or a better training for the mind. It exercises memory, patience, judgment and reason; it cultivates the habit of observation, and confers a taste for order and exactness.

Nowhere is God's beneficent consideration for man's wants more conspicuously seen than in the class of animals to which "Beasts and Cattle" belong. In the natural exercise of that dominion over them with which we have been entrusted, we derive from them one of our most important supplies of food. There is, indeed, scarcely anything entering into the structure of cattle