THE SYCAMORE. 



109 



wastes its fragrance on the desert air ; " but this 

 is only because we do not know what end is an- 

 swered either by its brilliant colouring or delicious 

 perfume. Possibly^ if we had a fuller and firmer 

 faith in the unlimited Providence of God, we 

 should believe that the flower secluded in the 

 depths of some untrodden forest, is furnished with 

 a symmetry and tinting and fragrance beyond all 

 that human art can attain, for some purpose which 

 could not so well be answered by any other means. 

 As it is, we vronder that so much perfection should 

 exist, seemingly all in vain; bnt it were, methinks, 

 a more pious employment, if not so poetical, to 

 admire and be thaukful for all that we have been 

 permitted to comprehend ; and where limits are 

 set to our apprehension, humbly and meekly to 

 adore. But in truth, we have need of as much 

 faith in natural as in revealed religion. We must 



consider the lilies of the field" not only so far 

 as they are within the cognizance of our senses ; 

 we must be content to lose ourselves in the devo- 

 tional thoughts which force themselves upon us 

 when the objects of sense are exhausted: 



" Thouglits whicli do often lie too deep for tears." 



In May, before the leaves are thoroughly ex- 

 panded, the Sycamore puts forth its elegant 

 drooping clusters of green flowers, when the bee 

 may be observed climbing about, and closely peer- 

 ing into, every opening bud. This insect is much 

 indebted to the Sycamore, since its flowers, which 

 abound in honey, not only are very numerous, but 

 appear at a season when the supply of honey- 

 bearing flowers is limited. 



