CIRCULATION OF MATTER. 573 
the properties of that* acorn, and hardened it into wood 
instead of flesh. 
Every limb and leaf, every wart and wen upon that gnarled 
trunk, every inch of its iron vertebre, has been developed by a 
process of nutrition similar to that which feeds the bones, 
nerves, and muscles of the human body* 
The forest, the field of grain, the prairie and luxuriant 
meadow, and all the animals they sustain, are merely a por- 
tion of the earth’s surface propelled in perpetual circulation 
by this organic system of everlasting action. Go out into 
your meadow, into your garden, and striking your spade into 
the rich mould, compute, if you can, how many forms of life 
a square foot of that soil has circulated since “ the evening 
and the morning were the first day.” Look at that gigantic 
oak, whose Briarean arms have defied the tempest of a hun- 
dred years. Conceive for a moment, the remote and con- 
secutive history of the elements in its sturdy trunk, its 
stubborn branches, and tenacious roots. The matter that 
lies in dormant induration in that tree, in another form may 
have been propelled through a hundred human hearts, and 
warmed into human flesh ; may have done service in the 
strong muscles of the ox, the sinews of the bear, the talons 
of the vulture, the feathers of the eagle. The re-organized 
substance of every species of plants, and grain, and grass; 
elements that spread the rose-leaf, and mantled in the cheek 
of beauty ; that bleached the snow-white lily, and polished 
the forehead of lofty genius ; that over-arched the dome of 
thought, and bent the rainbow; alb these may lie mingled 
within that rough bark. 
Look at that oak again; it stands immoveable in the 
breeze ; but the great system of organic action is upon it, 
hastening the dissolution of its constituent elements, and 
propelling them through other combinations. Fifty years 
hence, and some of them will mingle in stalks of yellow 
wheat, in blades of grass, and flowers of every hue ; in the 
veins of man, beast, and bird ; and some will stretch the 
insect’s wing, and lade the busy bee with w r ax and honey for 
its cell. And ages hence, in the ceaseless progress of its 
circulation, some of the substance of that oak may fall in 
noiseless dew-drops upon the place where it now towers up 
towards heaven. Yet through all the ages of its continuous 
circulation, not a grain of that matter will be wasted, annihi- 
lated, or lost. Had not this law of preservation remained as 
steadfast as any other law of God, through every process of 
composition and decomposition, the solid globe ere this 
would have been entirely exhausted. 
XXXI. 
76 
