THE EARTH. 269 



ferior nature, and, lastly, over man himself. Most 

 of the beauty, and the luxuriance of vegetation, 

 is well known to be derived from the benign in- 

 fluence of the air ; and every plant seems to have 

 its favourite climate, not less than its proper soil. 

 The lower ranks of animals also seem formed for 

 their respective climates, in which only they can 

 live. Man alone seems the child of every climate, 

 and capable of existing in all. However, this 

 peculiar privilege does not exempt him from the 

 influences of the air ; he is as much subject to its 

 malignity as the meanest insect or vegetable. 



With regard to plants, air is so absolutely ne- 

 cessary for their life and preservation, that they 

 will not vegetate in an exhausted receiver. All 

 plants have within them a quantity of air, which 

 supports and agitates their juices. They are con- 

 tinually imbibing fresh nutriment from the air to 

 increase this store, and to supply the wants which 

 they sustain from evaporation. When, therefore, 

 the external air is drawn from them, they are no 

 longer able to subsist. Even that quantity of 

 air which they before were possessed of, escapes 

 through their pores into the exhausted receiver ; 

 and as this continues to be pumped away, they 

 become languid, grow flaccid, and die. However, 

 the plant or flower thus ceasing to vegetate, is 

 kept, by being secured from the external air, a 

 much longer time sweet than it would have con- 

 tinued had it been openly exposed. 



That air which is so necessary to the life of 

 vegetables, is still more so to that of animals ; 

 there are none found, how seemingly torpid so- 



