and after plundering the little citadel, prudently leave part of the magazine for the inhabitants, being unwilling that such useful animals should perish during the winter. Here, then, are the soil and climate of Kamtschatka, the sarenne that grows along the banks, the fish that frequent the rivers, the economic mouse, and the long winter nights, all beautifully harmonizing with one another; all so constructed as to remedy the deficiencies of the country.

The Birch, too, how admirably is it adapted to the icy regions of the Arctic Pole, where the benefits that it confers are equally important with the cocoa-nut-tree of the South-Sea islanders, or the date-tree of the wandering Bedouins! The Birch is a native of Europe; it extends from Lapland to the subalpine parts of Italy, and is found in Asia, on mountains and high windy places. This valuable tree furnishes to the natives of those remote, and often sterile regions, all that their necessities require. To the Laplanders it yields a plentiful supply of fuel for their fires; and when covered with the skin of the rein-deer it forms their beds. They also convert the inner bark into hats and caps; and the fragments, when dexterously braided, are made into shoes and baskets, and outer garments to keep off the rain. The Norwegians use it for tanning hides, for fishing-nets, and sails; and as the outer bark does not decay in even the dampest places, it is employed for covering the roofs of houses, when laid upon a quantity of turf about three or four inches thick. They further dry and mix it up with meal, for the winter food of cattle. With the Highlanders of Scotland, the bark is in great request for making ropes and tanning leather, and they often burn the outer rind instead of candles.

Nor less important is this graceful tree to the In

dians of North America. They make from it canoes and boxes, buckets, kettles, baskets, and dishes, which they ingeniously join with threads of cedar roots: also an excellent kind of touchwood, invaluable to them in hunting, and elegant little vessels; these they rib with white cedar, and cover with large flakes of the birch bark, sewed together with threads of spruce roots, and carefully pitched over. To this purpose the birch-tree was anciently applied, even in Britain, where it served for fuel. Large birch-trees are found, occasionally, in many of the mosses of Yorkshire. They most probably have remained there for ages, and when taken out they burn like fir and candle wood. A kind of bitumen may also be extracted from the birch, and the inner white cuticle and silken bark, which annually falls off, may be used for writing upon, as was formerly the case before the invention of printing. The outward and coarser bark is employed instead of slate, for the covering of houses in many parts of Russia, Poland, and other northern tracts; and in Sweden the bark, when ground, is mixed with bread-corn. A wholesome wine is extracted from the wood, by the inhabitants of Kamtschatka, and with the light and durable bark they construct sledges and canoes.

Chesnut Trees, on the contrary, flourish best among the stony mountains of southern Europe, where they supply the want of corn. They are found in great perfection on the island of Corsica, and the fruit, about the size of a pullet's egg, is much used by the inhabitants. Stately trees also decorate the ridges of Mount Etna; and one of these, the Centum Cavallo, is the greatest wonder in Europe; its foliage is so extensive that an hundred persons have been sheltered under its ample branches. The same mountain also exhibits ano

ther specimen of such a noble size, that the neighbouring shepherds often pen their sheep within its ample trunk, which is hollowed by time. The sturdy roots of the chesnut-tree penetrate to a great depth, and will even force their way through beds of lava, in order to reach the streams beneath: they are, in consequence, often seen to spring from out the ridgy sides of rocks, and in dry sandy places, where apparently trees of such magnitude and foliage could not grow.

We may also briefly notice a solitary plant, which is invaluable to the wandering Arab, and his “mute companion." This is the Camels' Thorn, a bitter shrub, which beautifully exemplifies the merciful care of Providence. Its everlasting verdure refreshes the eye of the traveller, and its deep-searching tough roots collect the scanty moisture of these arid plains. This property the Arab applies to the production of a grateful and necessary refreshment. He removes a little of the sand, and having made an incision in the stem, as near the root as possible, he inserts a single seed of the water-melon in the fissure, and then carefully replaces the sand. The seed becomes a parasite plant, and the nutriment, which the brittle succulent root of the melon would be unable to collect in the midst of a parched desert, is abundantly supplied by the deep-searching and tough fibres of the camels'-thorn. An abundance of good water-melons are thus grown in a soil, which is incapable of culture. The plant itself produces small oval leaves for a few days only during the spring, which are succeeded by crimsoncoloured flowers.

Travellers gaze with astonishment on the pyramids of Egypt, on the fountains and the columns of Rome, on the works of men, who are now forgotten, and whose

structures, though calculated to overwhelm the mind with astonishment and admiration, can lay claim to no real utility; yet they too frequently forget that all around them are traces of the footsteps of that great Being, whose goings forth have been from all eternity that they are impressed on the summit of the mountains, in the oozy bed of ocean, amid pathless deserts, as well as in scenes of fertility and beauty. He has caused grass to spring forth, and herbs and fruitful trees for the use of man, and has admirably adapted them to every country, and to the necessities of its respective inhabitants. I can even believe, so great is the beneficence of that Almighty Being, by whom the universe is framed, that every country has some plant peculiar to itself, which thrives best, and appears more beautiful than it would do in any other part of the world; some tender and convincing proof, that as a father pitieth his children, so the Most High condescends to sustain and pity those, whom he remembers to be but dust. Let us extend our researches on this subject, as far as the discoveries of various travellers enable us to ascertain the important fact.

Palm-trees shade the sultry regions of the Line, and vast forests of mossy firs extend to the borders of the frozen zone. These two great families vary in accordance with the places in which they grow. Thus in the former, the cocoa and the date, the palm and the latenier have each its assigned locality; one grows best on the sea-shore, another in a rich soil, a third springs from the fissures of the rocks, a fourth prefers high windy places. In like manner the pine, and spruce, the majestic cedar, and the imperishable larch, divide among themselves the empire of the north. This obvious arrangement, by placing the most remarkable forest-trees in their respective places, enables us to trace

the goodness of the Divine Being, in the use to which he has applied them, and furnishes a clue to the varieties that are frequently discoverable.

And how admirably are trees adapted to answer the most important purposes! The pine-forests of which we have just spoken, cover not only Finland, Ingria, and Esthonia, with the whole space between Petersburg and Moscow, but they extend over a great part of Poland, till checked by the appearance of those fine oaks, which announce that a different order of vegetation has commenced. These forests are so extensive, that a squirrel may bound over the greatest part of Russia, without touching the ground, by springing from branch to branch. Yet still they are only a small part of those, which extend towards the frozen north, from Breslaw to its icy shores, from Norway to Kamtschatka, with the exception of some sandy deserts. These forests furnish secure retreats for such animals as frequent them, and form an ample roof above their heads. The gigantic firs, whose lofty and tufted pyramids bear up a load of snow, and prevent it from falling around their roots, and whose branches are mantled with long grey mosses, extend far as the eye can reach, and are peopled with the furred natives of the woods, bears and arctic foxes, squirrels and ermines, hares and sables. The ground, too, is covered with soft moss, which is often at least a foot in thickness, and with dry leaves, that fall precisely at the approach of the inclement season. These ample storehouses are also furnished with an abundance of provisions, the fruits of those noble trees, which thus afford both a canopy and bed. While the same bounteous hand, which has so abundantly provided for the unconscious inhabitants, has dispersed along the borders of