424 
ON A FALLACIOUS OBSERVATION. 
borious work, should have allowed it to escape his observation. If 
darkness be “ necessary" for the germination of seeds, how does it 
happen that the whole continent of America—for example—was not a 
barren desert,—before it was inhabited,—instead of having been then,— 
and being still, overloaded with every kind of luxuriant vegetation P 
All self-sown seeds remain on the surface of the soil, exposed to 
the “action of the rays of light;” and notwithstanding these terri¬ 
ble chemical processes,— of “ decomposing the carbonic acid gas ,"— 
and “ expelling the oxygen ,"—and “fixing the carbon' and “ thus, 
hardening all parts of the seed , and preventing vegetation," the vast 
prairies are every year clothed with fresh verdure, from the deposited 
seeds ; and each stately tree,in the illimitable forests, has continued 
to provide successors during every revolving autumnal season, since 
the creation of the world. 
So notoriously true is the certainty of renewal, that it has been as- 
serted, that no plant has been lost, since the mighty fiat went forth, 
“ in the beginning.” 
No “ harrowing," no “raking," in a state of nature is required, 
or could be procured. 
The compiler of the work in question cannot intend to infer that 
the husk which envelopes the vital principle, is the “ darkness" that 
is “ necessary for he talks of the “harrowing," which means co¬ 
vering over with earth, to keep them from the action of this perni¬ 
cious “light" If “ germination” means sprouting, every person of 
the least observation, must be familiar with innumerable instances of 
the first appearance of the germ growing in daylightthe first, push 
from the bulb in a hyacinth glass, in the full glare of a sunny win¬ 
dow :* the tiny radicle that looks out eagerly into this gay world, 
from the husk of a chesnut, before it is consigned to its dark abode, 
to grow and become a tree:—the position of a flighty seed of dande¬ 
lion that has winged its way from the beautifully arranged head 
(one of the loveliest objects in nature,) and settled against an edging 
of box,—whence it sends down a long taper thread to find a resting 
place beneath :—mustard and cress, scattered by the prodigal hand of 
childhood, opening their little cells, and putting forth simultaneously, 
their cotyledons and rootlets upon the surface of the ground; or 
upon a piece of flannel, by the side of a blazing kitchen fire, where 
no friendly earth is near, to receive the latter into this necessary 
darkness. A more obvious refutation, of this assertion, however, is 
to be found in the sprouting of wheat, which has been unfortunately 
* I am aware that this is rather an analogy, than a corroborative case in 
point,—the bulb not being a seed. 
