Michael, who never cared much for botany, at no period was less disposed to give himself trouble about it than now; his master, friend, and patron was gone, as he thought; he was left in a strange country; he knew not at word of the language, nor was he acquainted with one person in Marseilles, for we had not yet stirred out of the lazaretto. What became of the seeds for a time I believe neither he nor I knew; but, when he saw my recovery advancing, fear of reproof led him to conceal his former negligence. He could neither read nor write, so that the only thing he could do was to put the first seed that came to hand in the first envelope, either in parchment or paper, that had writing upon the back of it, and, thus selected, the seeds came into the hands of M. de Jussieu at Paris. By this operation of Michael, the verbascum became an aromatic herb growing on the highest mountains, and the bauhinia acuminata became an acacia vera. The present of the drawings of the Abyssinian plants was really, as it was first designed, a compliment but it turned out just the contrary, for, in place of expecting the publication that I was to make, in which they would naturally be a part, the gates of the garden were thrown open, and every dabbler in botany that could afford pen, ink, and paper, was put in possession of those plants and flowers, at a time when I had not said one word upon the subject of my travels. Whether this was owing to M. de Jussieu, M. de Thouin, or M. Daubenton, to all, or to any one of them, I do not know, but I beg they will for a moment consider the great impropriety of the measure. I suppose it would be thought natural, that a person delineating plants in a foreign country with such care, risk, and expence as I have done, should wish to bring home the very seeds of those plants he had delineated in preference to all others: supposing these had been the only seeds he could have brought home, and generosity and liberality of mind had led him to communicate part of them to M. de Jussieu, we shall further say, this last-mentioned gentleman had planted them, and when the time came, engraved, and published them, what would he think of this manner of repaying the traveller’s attention to him? The bookseller, that naturally expected to be the first that published these plants, would say to the traveller whose book he was to buy, This collection of natural history is not new, it has been printed in Sweden, Denmark, and France, and part of it is to be seen in every monthly magazine! Does M. de Jussieu think, that, after having been once so treated, any traveller would ever give one seed to the king’s garden? he certainly would rather put them in the fire; he must do so if he was a reasonable man, for otherwise, by giving them away he is certainly ruining his own work, and defeating the purposes for which he had travelled.