THE further I proceed in this work, the more I am impressed with admiration of the ancients; and the greater the number of plants that remain to be described, the more I am induced to venerate the zeal displayed by the men of former times in their researches, and the kindly spirit manifested by them in transmitting to us the results thereof. Indeed their bounteousness in this respect would almost seem to have surpassed the munificent disposition even of Nature herself, if our knowledge of plants had depended solely upon man's spirit of discovery: but as it is, it is evident beyond all doubt that this knowledge has emanated from the gods themselves, or, at all events, has been the result of divine inspiration, even in those cases where man has been instrumental in communicating it to us. In other words, if we must confess the truth—a marvel surpassed by nothing in our daily experience—Nature herself, that common parent of all things, has at once produced them, and has discovered to us their properties.
Wondrous indeed is it, that a Scythian[1] plant should be
brought from the shores of the Palus Mæotis, and the euphorbia[2] from Mount Atlas and the regions beyond the Pillars of
Hercules, localities where the operations of Nature have reached
their utmost limit! That in another direction, the plant
britannica[3] should be conveyed to us from isles of the
Ocean situate beyond the confines of the earth![4] That the
æthiopis[5] should reach us from a climate scorched by the
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