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abundant detail, as nothing is more unsatisfactory than the 
usual vague generalities employed in discussing this argument. 
Consequently, I have not shrunk from bringing forward 
actual facts which I am prepared to submit to the test of 
purpose. One result, however, of this method is that I can 
only very briefly indicate the immense field that still remains 
untrodden. I will only point out, then, as it is impossible for 
me at present to dwell upon them more fully, abundant marks 
of design which, are found — 
(1.) in the devices for the preservation of seeds till matu- 
rity, and their dispersion after maturity ; 
(2.) in the adaptations of the Stem, Leaf, and Root, as, for 
instance, in the stomata of the Epidermis ; 
(3.) in forms of plants fitted for special purposes, such as 
parasites and insect-traps ; 
(4.) in the production of useful plants contemporaneously 
with the late appearance of Man ; 
(5.) in the order and harmony seen in the finely-graduated 
adaptation of plants to every degree in the thermal scale from 
the Pole to the Equator ; 
(6.) in the Unity of plan involved in the fact that every 
vegetable structure can be referred to the cell as its ultimate 
element ; 
(7). in the Unity of plan to be discovered also in the past 
geological history of the Vegetable Kingdom. 
11. Out of this embarrassing wealth of materials I will 
select for my concluding illustration of Design the Pitcher- 
Plant. A more wonderful, complicated, and effective Insect- 
trap could hardly be imagined. In the first place, it attracts 
its victims from afar by its conspicuous colour, red, or blue, or 
purple, which makes it standout boldly from the inconspicuous 
shrub with dioecious flowers which produces it. In the next 
place its jug-like shape is as good a device as can be employed 
for a trap in which the captured flies are to be drowned : it 
has a close-fitting lid which is not opened until the arrange- 
ments are complete, and when once opened never shuts again. 
When all is ready within, the lid opens, and we see a bait, a 
danger and a pool of destiny ; the bait is a honeyed secretion 
produced by glands situated just in the neck of the pitcher ; 
below this zone are glaucous walls of glassy smoothness, and 
below these again is the water poured forth by thousands of 
glands. The insects eat their fill of the honey, then slip 
helplessly down the precipitous sides, and are drowned at the 
bottom. In addition to these striking features, some of the 
pitchers have external fringes calculated to lead insects the 
right way to their destruction. I need hardly point out the 
