190 SPRING. 



to a temperature, that can decompose the gems or 

 germs which, when the rain comes, are to send up 

 the leaves and stem, and project the radical threads 

 downward into the soil. Our grasses, though the 

 roots be, in general, fibrous, die down in the same 

 manner ; and in long continued drought, the common 

 is not distinguishable from the beaten path. Yet the 

 principle of life, whatever it may be, is safer then 

 than when all is green and flourishing. When a 

 plant of grass is in the vigour of vegetation, it can 

 with difficulty be transplanted, but when it is all dead 

 but the root, that root may be transported any where; 

 and we have only to place it in the proper soil 

 and water it, in order to have it again in active ve- 

 getation. 



The change in winter, though not quite so rapid, is 

 more general. The life of the herb betakes itself to 

 the root, and that of the tree collapses into a space 

 which, though it in all probability covers every por- 

 tion, from the most remote filament of the root to the 

 minutest ramification of the branches, is yet of such 

 tenuity as that, at the season of perfect rest, it would 

 not in all probability occupy, in the largest oak in 

 England, a solid space that would be visible to the 

 eye, or even to the microscope. Thus, even in ve- 

 getable substances, we follow this mysterious principle 

 of life to the very verge of extension, at which, to our 

 perception, both are co-evanescent. Yes, singular as 

 it is, when we thus follow that wonderful principle 

 downward towards the bourne of annihilation, so to 

 speak, we mark no diminution of energy ; for, on the 

 contrary, it is always the most powerful, both actively 



