6 
INTRODUCTORY PIECES. 
VANITY OF BOTANICAL SCIENCE 
WITHOUT RELIGION. 
CONDER. 
“ Even Solomon, in all bis glory, was not arrayed 
like one of these.”—Matt. vi. 29. 
From cold utility does beauty spring? 
Is there not use in beauty ? Go, fond sage. 
Scan Nature’s flower-illuminated page, 
And learn that beauty is a sovereign thing, 
Redundantly conferred by Nature’s King, 
Beyond all meed, mocking all Art’s pretence. 
Lavished with glorious munificence 
On weeds and worms,—the tiniest insect’s 
wing. 
It is the cypher in which God inscribes 
His name upon His works ; His name is 
Love— 
Ill understood by wisdom’s curious tribes, 
Florist or botanist. Oh, far above 
Their lore, the lesson which a flower conveys. 
These are thy works, O God, and they pro¬ 
claim thy praise. 
The same .— abel’s oratorio. 
What though I trace each Herb and Flower, 
That drinks the morning dew, 
Did I not own Jehovah’s power, 
Flow vain were all I knew. 
