Variety of Nature

As a striking evidence of Divine Intelligence we may next consider the immense variety which the Creator has introduced into every department of the material world.

Now every one of these species of plants differs from another, in its size, structure, form, flowers, leaves, fruits, mode of propagation, color, medicinal virtues, nutritious qualities, internal vessels, and the odors it exhales. They are of all sizes, from the microscopic mushroom, invisible to the naked eye, to the sturdy oak and the cedar of Lebanon, and from the slender willow to the Banian tree, under whose shade 7000 persons may find ample room to repose. A thousand different shades of color distinguish the different species. Every one wears its peculiar livery, and is distinguished by its own native hues; and many of their inherent beauties can be distingnished only by the help of the microscope. Some grow upright, others creep along in a serpentine form. Some flourish for ages, others wither and decay in a few months; some spring up in moist, others in dry soils; some turn toward the sun, others shrink and contract when we approach to touch them. Not only are the different species of plants and flowers distinguished from each other by their different forms, but even the different individuals of the same species. In a bed of tulips or carnations, for example, there is scarcely a flower in which some difference may not be observed in its structure, size, or assemblage of colors; nor can any two flowers be found in which the shape and shades are exactly similar. Of all the hundred thousand millions of plants, trees, herbs, and flowers, with which our globe is variegated, there are not, perhaps, two individuals precisely alike, in every point of view in which they may be contemplated; yea, there is not, perhaps, a single leaf in the forest, when minutely examined, that will not be found to differ, in certain aspects, from its fellows. Such is the wonderful and infinite diversity with which the Creator has adorned the vegetable kingdom.

His wisdom is also evidently displayed in this vast profusion of vegetable nature—in adapting each plant to the soil and situation in which it is destined to flourish—in furnishing it with those vessels by which it absorbs the air, and moisture on which it feeds—and in adapting it to the nature and necessities of animated beings. As the earth teems with animated existence, and as the different tribes of animals depend chiefly on the productions of the vegetable kingdom for their subsistence, so there is an abundance and a variety of plants adapted to the peculiar constitution of every individual species. This circumstance demonstrates, that there is a precontrived relation and fitness between the internal constitution of the animal, and the nature of the plants which afford it nourishment; and shows us that the animal and the vegetable kingdoms are the workmanship of one and the same Almighty Being, and that, in his arrangements with regard to the one, he had in view the necessities of the other.

When we direct our attention to the tribes of animated nature, we behold a scene no less variegated and astonishing. Above fifty thousand species of animals have been detected and described by Naturalists, beside several thousands of species which the naked eye cannot discern, and which people the invisible regions of the waters and the air. And as the greater part of the globe has never yet been thoroughly explored, several hundreds, if not thousands, of species unknown to the scientific world, may exist in the depths of the ocean, and in the unexplored regions of the land. All these species differ from one another in color, size, and shape; in the internal structure of their bodies, in the number of their sensitive organs, limbs, feet, joints, claws, wings, and fins; in their dispositions, faculties, movements, and modes of subsistence. They are of all sizes, from the mite and the gnat up to the elephant and the whale, and from the mite downward to those invisible animalcules, a hundred thousand of which would not equal a grain of sand. Some fly through the atmosphere, some glide through the waters, others traverse the solid land. Some walk on two, some on four, some on twenty, and some on a hundred feet. Some have eyes furnished with two, some with eight, some with a hundred, and some with eight thousand distinct transparent globes, for the purposes of vision.^*

Could we descend into the subterraneous apartments of the globe, and penetrate into those unknown recesses which lie toward its center, we should doubtless behold a variegated scene of wonders, even in those dark and impenetrable regions. But all the labor and industry of man have not hitherto enabled him to penetrate farther into the bowels of the earth than the six-thousandth part of its diameter, or, about a mile and a quarter; so that we must remain forever ignorant of the immense caverns and masses of matter that may exist, and of the processes that may be going on, about its central regions. In those regions, however, near the surface, which He within the sphere of human inspection, we perceive a variety analogous to that which is displayed in the other departments of nature. Here we find substances of various kinds formed into strata, or layers of different depths—earths, sand, gravel, marl, clay, sandstone, freestone, marble, limestone, coals, peat, and similar materials. In these stratra are found metals and minerals of various descriptions—salt, nitrate of potash, ammonia, sulphur, bitumen, platina, gold, silver, mercury, iron, lead, tin, copper, zinc, nickel, manganese, cobalt, antimony, the diamond, rubies, sapphires, jaspers, emeralds, and a countless variety of other substances, of incalculable benefit to mankind. Some of these substances are so essentially requisite for the comfort of man, that without them he would soon degenerate into the savage state, and be deprived of all those arts which extend his knowledge, and which cheer and embellish the abodes of civilized life.

If we turn our eyes upward to the regions of the atmosphere; we may also behold a spectacle of variegated magnificence. Sometimes the sky is covered with sable clouds, or obscured with mists; at other times it is tinged with a variety of hues, by the rays of the rising or the setting sun. Sometimes it presents a pure azure, at other times it is diversified with strata of dappled clouds. At one time we behold the rainbow rearing its majestic arch, adorned with all the colors of light; at another, the Aurora Borealis illuminating the sky with its fantastic coruscations. At one time we behold the fiery meteor sweeping through the air, diffusing a sparkling and brilliant light; at another, we perceive the forked lightning darting from the clouds, and hear the thunders rolling through the sky. Sometimes the vault of heaven appears like a boundless desert, particularly about the time of the rising and setting of the sun in a clear sky; and at other times adorned with an innumerable host of stars, the blazing comet, the planets in their courses, and with the moon “walking in brightness.” In short, whether we direct our view to the vegetable or the animal tribes—to the atmosphere, the ocean, the mountains, the plains, or the subterranean recesses of the globe, we behold a scene of beauty, order, and variety, which astonishes and enraptures the contemplative mind, and constrains us to join in the devout exclamations of the Psalmist, “How manifold are thy works, O Lord! In wisdom hast thou made them all: the earth is full of thy riches; so is the great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts.”

This countless variety of objects which appears throughout every department of our sublunary system, not only displays the depths of Divine Wisdom, but also presents us with a faint idea of the infinity of the Creator, and of the immense multiplicity of ideas and conceptions which must have existed in the Eternal Mind, when the fabric of our globe, and its numerous tribes of inhabitants, were arranged and brought into existence. And if every other world which floats in the immensity of space, be diversified with a similar variety of existences, altogether different from ours (as we have reason to believe, from the variety we already perceive, and from the boundless plans and conceptions of the Creator), the human mind is lost and confounded, when it attempts to form an idea of those endlessly diversified plans, conceptions, and views, which must have existed during an eternity past in the Divine Mind. When we would attempt to enter into the conception of so vast and varied operations, we feel our own littleness, and the narrow limits of our feeble powers, and can only exclaim, with the apostle Paul, “O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his counsels, and his ways (of creation and providence) past finding out!”

This characteristic of variety, which is stamped on all the works of Omnipotence, is doubtless intended to gratify the principle of curiosity, and the love of novelty, which are implanted in the human breast; and thus to excite rational beings to the study and investigation of the works of the Creator; that therein they may behold the glory of the Divine character, and be stimulated to the exercise of love, admiration, and reverence. For, as the records of Revelation, and the dispensations of Providence, display to us the various aspects of the moral character of Deity, so the diversified phenomena, and the multiplicity of objects and operations which the scenery of nature exhibits, present to us a specimen of the ideas, as it were, of the Eternal Mind, in so far as they can be adumbrated by material objects, and exhibited to mortals, through the medium of corporeal organs.

To convey an adequate conception of the number of these ideas, as exhibited on the globe on which we live, would baffle the arithmetician's skill, and set his numbers at defiance. We may, however, assist our conceptions a little by confining our attention to one department of nature; for example, the Animal Kingdom. The number of the different species of animals, taking into account those which are hitherto undiscovered, and those which are invisible to the naked eye, cannot be estimated at less than 300,000. In a human body there are reckoned about 446 muscles, in each of which, according to anatomists, there page 36 are at least ten several intentions or due qualifications to be observed—its proper figure, its just magnitude, the right disposition of its several ends, upper and lower, the position of the whole, the insertion of its proper nerves, veins, arteries, etc., so that, in the muscular system alone, there are 4460 several ends or aims to be attended to.—The bones are reckoned to be in number about 245, and the distinct scopes or intentions of each of these are above 40; in all, about 9800: so that the system of bones and muscles alone, without taking any other parts into consideration, amounts to above 14,000 different intentions or adaptations. If now we suppose, that all the species of animals above stated are differently constructed, and, taken one with another, contain, at an average, a system of bones and muscles as numerous as in the human body—the number of species must be multiplied by the number of different aims and adaptations, and the product will amount to 4,200,000,000. If we were next to attend to the many thousands of blood vessels in an animal body, and the numerous ligaments, membranes, humors, and fluids of various descriptions, the skin with its millions of pores, and every other part of an organical system, with the aims and intentions of each, we should have another sum of many hundreds of millions to be multiplied by the former product, in order to express the diversified ideas which enter into the construction of the animal world. And if we still further consider that, of the hundreds of millions of individuals belonging to each species, no two individuals exactly resemble each other—that all the myriads of vegetables with which the earth is covered are distinguished from each other by some one characteristic or another, and that every grain of sand contained in the mountains, and in the bed of the ocean, as shown by the microscope, discovers a different form and configuration from another—we are here presented with an image of the infinity of the conceptions of Him in whose incomprehensible mind they all existed, during countless ages, before the universe was formed.

To overlook this amazing scene of Divine intelligence, or to consider it as beneath our notice, as some have done—if it be not the characteristic of impiety, is, at least, the mark of a weak and undiscriminating mind. That man who disregards the visible displays of Infinite Wisdom, or who neglects to investigate them when opportunity offers, acts as if he considered himself already possessed of a sufficient portion of intelligence, and stood in no need of such sensible assistance to direct his conceptions of the Creator. Pride, and false conceptions of the nature and design of true religion, frequently lie at the foundation of all that indifference and neglect with which the visible works of God are treated by those who make pretensions to a high degree of spiritual attainments. The truly pious man will trace, with wonder and delight, the footsteps of his Father and his God, wherever they appear in the variegated scene of creation around him, and will be filled with sorrow and contrition of heart, that, amidst his excursions and solitary walks, he has so often disregarded “the works of the Lord, and the operation of his hands.”

In fine, the variety which appears on the face of nature not only enlarges our conceptions of Infinite Wisdom, but is also the foundation of all our discriminations and judgments as rational beings, and is of the most essential utility in the affairs of human society. Such is the variety of which the features of the human countenance are susceptible, that it is probable, that no two individuals, of all the millions of the race of Adam that have existed since the beginning of time, would be found to resemble each other. We know no two human beings presently existing, however similar to each other, but may be distinguished either by their stature, their forms, or the features of their faces; and on the ground of this dissimilarity, the various wheels of the machine of society move onward, without clashing or confusion. Had it been otherwise—had the faces of men, and their organs of speech, been cast exactly in the same mold, as would have been the case had the world been framed according to the Epicurean system, by blind chance directing a concourse of atoms, it might have been as difficult to distinguish one human countenance from another, as to distinguish the eggs laid by the same hen, or the drops of water which trickle from the same orifice; and consequently, society would have been thrown into a state of universal anarchy and confusion. Friends would not have been distinguished from enemies, villains from the good and honest, fathers from sons, the culprit from the innocent person, nor the branches of the same family from one another. And what a scene of perpetual confusion and disturbance would thus have been created. Frauds, thefts, robberies, murders, assassinations, forgeries, and injustice of all kinds, might have been daily committed without the least possibility of detection. Nay, were even the variety of tones in the human voice, peculiar to each person, to cease, and the handuriting of all men to become perfectly uniform, a multitude of distressing deceptions and perplexities would be produced in the domestic, civil, and commercial transactions of mankind. But the All-wise and Beneficent Creator has prevented all such evils and inconveniences by the character of variety which he has impressed on the human species, and on all his works. By the peculiar features of his countenance, every man may be distinguished in the light; by the tones of his voice he may be recognized in the dark, or when he is separated from his fellows by an impenetrable partition; and his handwriting can attest his existence and individuality, when continents and oceans interpose between him and his relations, and be a witness of his sentiments and purposes to future generations.

Thus I have taken a very cursory view of some evidences of Divine Wisdom, which appear in the general constitution of the earth, the waters, and the atmosphere, and in the characteristic of variety, which is impressed on all the objects of the visible creation. When these, and other admirable arrangements in our sublunary system, are seriously contemplated, every rational and pious mind will be disposed to exclaim with the Psalmist—“There is none like unto thee, O Lord, neither are there any works like unto thy works.”—“Thou art great, and dost wondrous things: thou art God alone.”—“O that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works toward the children of men!”

When we consider not only the utility, but the beauty and grandeur of the wise arrangements of nature, what reason have we to admire and adore the goodness of the great Author of our existences Were all the diversities of shape and color, of mountains and vales, of rivers and lakes, of light and shade, which now embellish the various landscapes of the world, to disappear, and were one unvaried scene perpetually to present itself to the eye, how dull, and wearisome, and uninteresting page 37 would the aspect of the universe appear to an intelligent mind! Although the variegated beauties which adorn the surface of our globe, and the vault of heaven, are not essential to our existence as sensitive beings, yet were they completely withdrawn, and nothing presented to the eye but a boundless expanse of barren sands, the mind would recoil upon itself, its activity would be destroyed, its powers would be confined, as it were, to a prison, and it would roam in vain amidst the surrounding waste in search of enjoyment. Even the luxuries of a palace, were it possible to procure them amidst such a scene of desolation, would become stale and insipid, and would leave the rational soul almost destitute of ideas and of mental energy, to the tiresome round of a cheerless existence. But, in the actual state of the world we live in, there is no landscape in nature, from the icebergs of Greenland to the verdant scenes of the Torrid Zone, in which objects, either of sublimity or of beauty, in boundless variety, are not presented to the view, in order to stimulate the mind to activity, to gratify its desire of novelty, and to elevate its conceptions of the Beneficent Creator.

And if the present constitution of our world displays so evident marks of beauty and benevolent design, now that it is inhabited by an assemblage of depraved intelligences, and its physical aspect deformed, in consequence of “the wickedness of man,” what transporting beauties and sublimities must it have presented, when it appeared fresh from the hand of its Almighty Maker, and when all things were pronounced by him to be very good! After a deluge of waters has swept away many of its primeval beauties, and has broken and deranged even its subterraneous strata, this terrestrial world still presents to the eye a striking scene of beauty, order, and beneficence. But we have the strongest reason to believe, that, before sin had disfigured the aspect of this lower world, all was “beauty to the eye, and music to the ear”—that “immortality breathed in the winds, flowed in the rivers,” and exhaled from every plant and flower. No storms disturbed the tranquillity of nature, nor created the least alarm in the breasts of its holy inhabitants. No earthquakes shook the ground, nor rent the foundations of nature. No volcanoes vomited their rivers of lava, nor overwhelmed the plains with deluges of fire. No barren deserts of heath and sand disfigured the rich landscape of the world—no tempests nor hurricanes tossed the ocean, nor scorching heats nor piercing colds, nor pestilence nor disease, annoyed the human frame. In the paradisaical state of the world, we may reasonably suppose, that all the elements of nature contributed directly to the pleasure and enjoyment of man, and of the other tribes of animated nature; and that they were not subjected as they now are, to the operation of those natural agents which so frequently spread destruction and ruin among the abodes of men. To suppose the contrary to have happened would be inconsistent with the state of pure and happy intelligences, and with the benignity of the Creator; and would imply, that God was either unwilling or unable to remove such physical evils. But we cannot suppose it beyond the limits of Infinite Wisdom and Omnipotence, to create and arrange a world entirely free from those evils and inconveniences which now flow from the operation of certain physical agents, without, at the same time, supposing that his power and intelligence are confined within certain bounds, beyond which they cannot pass. And, therefore, if, in the existing constitution of things, the harmony of nature is occasionally disturbed, and its beauty defaced, by earthquakes, storms, and tempests—we must remember, that the inhabitants of the earth are now a depraved race of mortals, no longer adorned with primeval purity and innocence; and that the physical economy of our globe has undergone a certain derangement, corresponding to the moral state of its present occupants.—But since this earth, even in its present state of degradation and derangement, presents to the view of every beholder so many objects of beauty and magnificence, and so numerous traces of Divine Beneficence—we may reasonably conclude, that scenes of Divine Wisdom and Goodness, far more glorious and transporting, must be displayed in those worlds where moral evil has never shed its malign influence, and where the inhabitants—superior to disease and death—bask forever in the regions of immortality. And therefore, however admirable the displays of Divine Wisdom may appear in the sublunary scene around us, they must be considered as inferior to those which are exhibited in many other provinces of Jehovah's empire, in so far as they are blended with those physical derangements which indicate his displeasure against the sins of men.

Were we now to direct our attention to the mechanism of animated beings; and to consider the numberless contrivances and adaptations in their organical structure and functions, a thousand instances of exquisite wisdom and design, still more striking and admirable, would crowd upon our view. For, although the general fabric of the world, and the immense variety of objects it contains, are evident proofs of a Wise and Intelligent Contriver, yet it is chiefly in the minute and delicate contrivances of organical structures, their adaptation to the purposes of life, motion, and enjoyment, and their relation and correspondence to the surrounding elements, that the consummate skill of the Great Architect of nature is most strikingly perceived. But as it forms no part of my present plan to enter on so extensive a field of illustration, on which volumes might be written, I shall content myself with merely stating an example or two. My first example shall be taken from