118 PROSERPINA. 



hold to my judgment in not cancelling it. For this multipli- 

 cation of the cells is at least compelled by an influence which 

 passes from the leaf to the ground, and vice versa ; and which 

 is at present best conceivable to me by imagining the contin- 

 ual and invisible descent of lightning from electric cloud by a 

 conducting rod, endowed with the power of softly splitting 

 the rod into two rods, each as thick as the original one. 

 Studying microscopically, we should then see the molecules 

 of copper, as we see the cells of the wood, dividing and in- 

 creasing, each one of them into two. But the visible result, 

 and mechanical conditions of growth, would still be the same 

 as if the leaf actually sent down a new root fibre ; and, more 

 than this, the currents of accumulating substance, marked by 

 the grain of the wood, are, I think, quite plainly and abso- 

 lutely those of streams flowing only from the leaves down- 

 wards ; never from the root up, nor of mere lateral increase. 

 I must look over all my drawings again, and at tree stems 

 again, with more separate study of the bark and pith in those 

 museum sections, before I can assert this ; but there will be 

 no real difficulty in the investigation. If the increase of the 

 wood is lateral only, the currents round the knots will be 

 compressed at the sides, and open above and below ; but if 

 downwards, compressed above the knot and open below it. 

 The nature of the force itself, and the manner of its ordi- 

 nances in direction, remain, and must for ever remain, inscru- 

 table as our own passions, in the hand of the God of all Spirits, 

 and of all Flesh. 



" Drunk is each ridge, of thy cup drinking, 

 Each clod relenteth at thy dressing, 

 Thy cloud-borne waters inly sinking, 

 Fair spring sproutes forth, blest with thy blessing ; 

 The fertile year is with thy bounty crouned, 

 And where thou go'st, thy goings fat the ground. 



Plenty bedews the desert places, 



A hedge of mirth the hills oncloseth, 



The fields with flockes have hid their faces, 



A robe of corn the valleys clotheth. 

 Deserts and hills and fields and valleys all, 

 Kejoice, shout, sing, and on thy name do call." 



