“O Lord, how manifold are Thy works! in wisdom hast Thou made them all; the earth is full of Thy riches."—Psalm 104: 24.)
IT seems quite a long time since we took our pleasant “Peeps into Wonderland” together; or in thought watched the "Children of Many Lands" at their lessons, or their play. Now I am going to invite old friends, and as many new ones as care to be of our party, to join me in country walks. The birds and flowers shall be our teachers, and, if we listen to their voices, we shall learn many lessons of the wisdom and goodness of their Creator. But, before we begin our rambles, I should like to tell you the story of “A Boy who loved Flowers" they were the friends of his childhood; the lesson-books of his youth and early manhood, and, because he observed carefully, he was able in later life to teach others many things he had learned during country walks, for
“Not alone the fairest flowers;
The merest grass,
Lichen, and moss, and sturdy weed
Along the roadside where we pass,
Tell of His love Who sends the dew,
The rain and sunshine too,
To nourish one small seed.”
Carl Linne (better known as Linnaeus, the Swedish botanist), was born rather more than a hundred years ago, at Rashult, in Sweden. The name Linnaeus, in Swedish, means a linden tree, and was taken from a very fine tree growing on a farm which had belonged to his great-grandfather. His father, Nils Linnaeus, had, when quite a young man, spent much of his time in the study of plants, and, though at first he was pleased to find the same taste in his son, his pleasure became pain and disappointment when, a few years later, he found that his little son had no love for books, did not care for study, and would only learn his lessons when forced to do so.
Still, Carl was no idler, and did not, as his parents feared he might, grow up a dunce. He had a bright, active mind, and was gifted with a more than usual power of observation. The seven years of his childhood were very happy ones, as the greater part of his time was spent in his father's beautiful garden, which, though not very large, was laid out with great taste and care. He never seemed to tire of asking thoughtful questions about trees and flowers; questions which his father was well able to answer.
But, at the age of seven, his real or fancied, troubles began. His father engaged a tutor for him; but the boy did not get on well; many tears were shed over the multiplication table before he was, able to repeat it correctly. Parents and teachers in those days were very strict, often severe, and no one even seemed to think of making lessons pleasant or easy; so Carl got no pity, and when at nine years of age he was sent to school, his parents were, after a short time, obliged to remove him; or his health would have broken down entirely. After this his father took great pains with his education, and taught him Latin; but, to the timid, nervous boy, book-learning was hard, up-hill work.
Holidays, and the long summer evenings, were spent either in the garden or near his home, in the woods and fields. At last his father, who was disappointed at finding his little son more backward than most boys of his age, forbade his rambles, and ordered him to spend more time in preparing his lessons. This was a great trial to the boy. His mother could understand, and, if she could, would help him. "When I go into the garden, the fields, the woods, or climb the hill," he said, "every flower, every leaf has a tongue with which it speaks to me of its own being and of God. I cannot tell you how its speech fills my heart. We might make in our garden a clock of the flowers. I can always tell what time it is by seeing which of the flowers have opened their petals, and which have closed them up.”
His mother kissed him, told him to be a good boy, and try to please his father by learning his lessons well, but said that by early rising he might still have some time in the garden, and she would try to persuade his father that his health required fresh air, and out-door exercise. At sixteen he was sent to a large public school, called “The Gymnasium."Still his progress in his studies was not rapid, he searched the school library for books on “Botany"; these he carried to his room, and read with great delight. He was soon known among his fellow students as “The Little Botanist." After two years his father paid him a visit; and was bitterly disappointed at finding that his son had not won a single prize, nor even a good place in any of the classes he attended. His head-master told him that he thought a learned education would only be wasted upon his son, and advised him to make a gardener, or a carpenter of him. For some time the old gentleman had been far from well, and his grief on hearing such a report of his son was so great, that he became seriously ill.
Carl, who really loved and wished to please his father, was greatly distressed; he did not feel that he deserved all the scoldings showered upon him. God, however, raised up a friend for him in a wise and clever physician who was called in to attend his father. After some conversation with the youth, Dr. Rothman felt sure that he was neither stupid nor idle; and, as many plants are used in medicine, offered to take him into his own house for a year, and give him such instruction as would prove useful, should he wish to study for the medical profession. The kind offer was accepted.
His friends wished him to enter an University at some distance; again he found a friend in the doctor in whose house he lodged, who not only encouraged his study of plants, but urged him to add other subjects; and kindly lent him books, from which he gained much valuable information about birds, fish and minerals.
During his summer holidays he was advised to apply for admission to another and larger University, where it was thought he would enjoy greater advantages. He went, but found himself among strangers; he had no private means, and often wanted a meal; when his shoes were worn out, he tried to mend them with folds of paper, as he could not afford to take them to a shoemaker to be repaired. But this state of things did not last long. His industry, and the knowledge he had gained, attracted the attention of the directors of the botanical gardens, and, through their influence, he was placed almost at the head of an institution where, just a year before, he had applied for the situation of gardener.
But, without the degree of doctor, Linnaeus had no legal right to give lectures; and some who were jealous of his success, used this against him. Still, he was not discouraged, but, leaving the platform for a time, he set out with seven young men to explore some mountains, gain a better knowledge of minerals, and so prepare to pass a somewhat stiff examination. They traveled through Sweden, and a great part of Norway. On his return, he made friends with another doctor, whose daughter he very much wished to marry. The father, however, felt that, though personally he liked the young man, he was not in a position to provide suitably for his daughter, so insisted that they should wait at least three years.
The waiting was by no means wasted time. He worked hard, took his degree as doctor, became a fully qualified lecturer; and, after some delays and disappointments, returned to claim his bride. He visited England, Holland and Germany. Many learned men sought his society, and valued his friendship. He was the author of many valuable works on botany; several of the best text-books in use to-day are full of information drawn from what is still called his system. It is interesting to find that all, or nearly all his books, begin and end with quotations from Scripture; and the attention of his readers was often called to the goodness of God, as an All-wise Creator. Toward the close of the year 1776, Linnaeus had a fit of apoplexy, which affected his speech, and left him weak and almost helpless. He was however still cheerful, and took a great interest in all that was going on around him. He died in 1778, at the age of seventy years and seven months. Among his last words were, “The Lord has led me Himself, with His Own Almighty Hand.”