in general, something that relates to nature. See Nature.

Natural Children, are those born out of lawful wedlock. See Bastard.

Natural Functions, are those actions whereby the aliments are changed and assimilated so as to become a part of the body.

Heraldry, is used where animals, fruits, flowers, &c. are blazoned with the colours they naturally have, though different from the common colours. Natural Beauty.

Natural Note, in Music, is used in opposition to flat and sharp notes, which are called artificial notes. See Note, Scale, &c.

Natural is also used for something coming immediately out of the hands of nature; in which sense it stands opposed to fictitious or artificial, which signifies something wrought by art. See Artificial.

Bishop Wilkins observes, that there appears a world of difference between natural and artificial things, when viewed with microscopes. The first ever appear adorned with all imaginable elegance and beauty; the latter, though the most curious in their kind, infinitely rude and unshewn: the finest needle appears a rough bar of iron; and the most accurate engraving or embossment, as if done with a mattock or a trowel.

Natural Beauty, or the beauty of natural objects, is that quality or those qualities in the works of nature, or more properly of God, which are calculated to excite pleasing sensations in the minds of all such persons of true taste as attentively observe them. It will not, we trust, be deemed improper or impertinent, therefore, to introduce a few observations on this subject, previous to our treating of natural history.—To many, it is hoped, it will appear to be a very proper introduction to that important article. "That sensibility to beauty, which, when cultivated and improved, we term taste, is universally diffused through the human species;" and it is most uniform with respect to those objects, which being out of our power, are not liable to variation from accident, caprice, or fashion. The verdant lawn, the shady grove, the variegated landscape, the boundless ocean, and the starry firmament, are contemplated with pleasure by every attentive beholder. But the emotions of different spectators, though similar in kind, differ widely in degree; and to relish with full delight the enchanting scenes of nature, the mind must be uncorrupted by avarice, sensuality, or ambition; quick in her sensibilities; elevated in her sentiments; and devout in her affections. He who possesses such exalted powers of perception and enjoyment, may almost say, with the poet,

I care not, Fortune! what you me deny; You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her bright'ning face; You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve: Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave: Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.

"Perhaps such ardent enthusiasm may not be compatible with the necessary toils and active offices which Providence has assigned to the generality of men. But there are none to whom some portion of it may not prove advantageous: and if it were cherished by each individual, in that degree which is consistent with the indispensable duties of his station, the felicity of human life would be considerably augmented. From this source the refined and vivid pleasures of the imagination are almost entirely derived: and the elegant arts owe their choicest beauties to a taste for the contemplation of nature. Painting and sculpture are express imitations of visible objects; and where would be the charms of poetry, if divested of the imagery and embellishments which she borrows from rural scenes? Painters, statuaries, and poets, therefore, are always ambitious to acknowledge themselves the pupils of nature; and as their skill increases, they grow more and more delighted with every view of the animal and vegetable world. But the pleasure resulting from admiration is transient; and to cultivate taste, without regard to its influence on the passions and affections, 'is to rear a tree for its blossoms, which is capable of yielding the richest and most valuable fruit.' Physical and moral beauty bear so intimate a relation to each other, that they may be considered as different gradations in the scale of excellence; and the knowledge and relish of the former should be deemed only a step to the nobler and more permanent enjoyments of the latter.

"Whoever has visited the Leasowes, in Warwickshire, must have felt the force and propriety of an inscription which meets the eye at the entrance into those delightful grounds.

Would you then taste the tranquil scene? Be sure your bosoms be serene: Devoid of hate, devoid of strife, Devoid of all that poisons life: And much it 'vails you, in their place, To graft the love of human race.

"Now such scenes contribute powerfully to inspire that serenity which is necessary to enjoy and to heighten their beauties. By a secret contagion, the soul catches the harmony which she contemplates; and the frame within assimilates itself to that which is without. For,

Who can forbear to smile with Nature? Can The stormy passions in the bosom roll, While every gale is peace, and every grove Is melody?

"In this state of sweet composure, we become susceptible of virtuous impressions, from almost every surrounding object. The patient ox is viewed with generous complacency; the guileless sheep with pity; and the playful lamb raises emotions of tenderness and love. We rejoice with the horse, in his liberty and exemption from toil, while he ranges at large through enamelled pastures; and the frolics of the colt would afford unmixed delight, did we not recollect the bondage which he is soon to undergo. We are charmed with the song of birds, soothed with the buzz of insects, and pleased with the sportive motions of fishes, because these are expressions of enjoyment; and we exult in the felicity of the whole animated creation. Thus an equal and extensive benevolence is called forth into exertion; and having felt a common interest in the gratifications of inferior beings, we shall be no longer indifferent to their sufferings, or become wantonly instrumental in producing them.

"It seems to be the intention of Providence, that the lower order of animals should be subservient to the comfort, convenience, and sustenance of man. But his right of dominion extends no farther; and if this right be exercised with mildness, humanity, and justice, the subjects of his power will be no less beneficent..." ed than himself. For various species of living creatures are annually multiplied by human art, improved in their perceptive powers by human culture, and plentifully fed by human industry. The relation, therefore, is reciprocal between such animals and man; and he may supply his own wants by the use of their labour, the produce of their bodies, and even the sacrifice of their lives, whilst he co-operates with all-gracious Heaven in promoting happiness, the great end of existence.

"But though it be true, that partial evil, with respect to different orders of sensitive beings, may be universal good; and that it is a wise and benevolent institution of nature, to make destruction itself, within certain limitations, the cause of an increase of life and enjoyment; yet a generous person will extend his compassionate regards to every individual that suffers for his sake: and whilst he sighs

Even for the kid or lamb that parts its life Beneath the bloody knife, he will naturally be solicitous to mitigate pain, both in duration and degree, by the gentlest modes of inflicting it.

"We are inclined to believe, however, that this sense of humanity would soon be obliterated, and that the heart would grow callous to every soft impression, were it not for the benevolent influence of the smiling face of nature. The count de Lauzon, when imprisoned by Louis XIV. in the castle of Pignerol, amused himself during a long period of time with catching flies, and delivering them to be devoured by a rapacious spider. Such an entertainment was equally singular and cruel; and inconsistent, we believe, with his former character, and his subsequent turn of mind. But his cell had no window, and received only a glimmering light from an aperture in the roof. In less unfavourable circumstances, may we not presume, that instead of sporting with misery, he would have released the agonizing flies, and bid them enjoy that freedom of which he himself was bereaved?

"But the taste for natural beauty is subservient to higher purposes than those which have been enumerated; and the cultivation of it not only refines and humanizes, but dignifies and exalts the affections. It elevates them to the admiration and love of that Being who is the author of all that is fair, sublime, and good in the creation. Scepticism and irreligion are hardly compatible with the sensibility of heart which arises from a just and lively relish of the wisdom, harmony, and order subsisting in the world around us: and emotions of piety must spring up spontaneously in the bosom that is in unison with all animated nature. Actuated by this divine inspiration, man finds a fane in every grove; and glowing with devout fervour, he joins his song to the universal chorus, or muses the praise of the Almighty, in more expressive silence. Thus they

"Whom Nature's works can charm, with God himself Hold converse: grow familiar, day by day, With his conceptions; act upon his plan; And form to his the relish of their souls."

On the whole, then, it certainly appears, that the advantages resulting from a taste for natural beauties are great and important: it is equally certain, that as it is useful, so it is a continual source of real enjoyment; for a more rational pleasure cannot possibly occupy the attention or captivate the affections of mankind, than that which arises from a due consideration of the works of nature. Pleasure, we know, is a necessary ingredient in human life, in order in some measure to counterbalance the pains, the evils, and listless-nesses, which are at times perhaps unavoidable, and in order to render life tolerable. It is the part then of the moralist, and it has been frequently his business, to point out and recommend such pleasures as are highly gratifying, and are yet perfectly innocent. The Spectator, whose works will be admired as long as the language in which they are written is understood, recommends strongly and elegantly the pleasure of a garden; and a later writer, of no common degree of merit, and of very considerable fame, has an essay on the same subject, from which we shall select a few observations, and so conclude the article. "Not he alone (says this elegant writer) is to be esteemed a benefactor to mankind, who makes an useful discovery; but he also who can point out and recommend an innocent pleasure. Of this kind are the pleasures arising from the observation of nature; and they are highly agreeable to every taste uncorrupted by vicious indulgence. Rural scenes of almost every kind are delightful to the mind of man. But the misfortune is, that the greater part are hurried on in the career of life with too great rapidity to be able to give attention to that which solicits no passion. The darkest habitation in the dirtiest street of the metropolis, where money can be earned, has greater charms with many than the groves of Hagley.

"The patron of refined pleasure, the elegant Epicurus, fixed the seat of his enjoyment in a garden. He was of opinion, that a tranquil spot, furnished with the united sweets of art and nature, was the best adapted to delicate repose. And even the severer philosophers of antiquity were wont to discourse in the shade of a spreading tree, in some cultivated plantation. It is obvious, on intuition, that nature often intended solely to please the eye in her vegetable productions. She decorates the floweret that springs beneath our feet in all the perfections of external beauty. She has clothed the garden with a constant succession of various hues. Even the leaves of the tree undergo a pleasing vicissitude. The fresh verdure which they exhibit in the spring, the various shades which they assume in summer, the yellow and russet tinge of autumn, and the nakedness of winter, afford a constant pleasure to a lively imagination. From the snowdrop to the moss rose the flower garden displays an infinite variety of shape and colour. The taste of the florist has been ridiculed as trifling; yet surely without reason. Did nature bring forth the tulip and the lily, the rose and the honeysuckle, to be neglected by the haughty pretender to superior reason? To omit a single social duty for the cultivation of a polyanthus were ridiculous as well as criminal; but to pass by the beauties lavished before us, without observing them, is no less ingratitude than stupidity. A bad heart finds little amusement but in a communication with the active world, where scope is given for the indulgence of