A POET'S PICTURE.

129

progression and growth of herbs, flowers, trees,-gentle, and yet irrepressible,-which no force can stay, no violence restrain,—like the influence of love, which wins its way, and cannot be withstood by any human power, because itself is divine power. True enough it is, that if spring came but once in a century, or burst forth with the terror of an earthquake, and not in silence, what wonder and expectation there would be in all hearts to behold the miraculous change! But now the silent succession suggests nothing but necessity. To most men, only the cessation of the miracle would be miraculous, and the perpetual exercise of God's power seems less wonderful than its withdrawal would be.

May we venture on another quotation? We take it, gentle reader, from a living poet, whose works are not so widely read as their genuine poetical feeling and wealth of language deserve―I mean Sydney Dobell.

After describing the return of Spring, and her grief and astonishment at the spectacle of earth, pale, frozen, seemingly dead, he continues,—

"She fell upon

The corse, and warmed it. The natural earth,
Which was not dead but slept, unclosed her eyes;
Then Spring, o'erawed at her own miracle,

Fell on her knees.

Meanwhile the attendant birds,—her haste outstript,—

Chasing her voice, crowd round, and fill the air

With jocund loyalty.

With flowers Spring dressed the Earth; Then did her mother, Earth, rejoice in her ;

I

THE SUN'S PLACE IN CREATION.

And she, with filial love and joy, admired,
Weeping and trembling, in the wont of maids.
Meantime her pious fame had filled the skies.
He that begat her, the almighty Sun,
Passing in regal state, did call her 'child,'

And blessed her and her mother where they sat-
Her by the imposition of bright hands,

The Earth with kisses. Then the Spring would go,
Abashed with bliss,-decorous in the face

Of love parental. But the Earth stood up,
And held her there; and, these encircling, came

All kind of happy shapes that wander space,
Brightening the air. And they two sang like gods
Under the answering heavens."

131

We think that the ancients, if they had seriously reflected upon the important part played by the sun in the economy of nature; how it is the heart, and spring, and inner power of every movement and manifestation of life; how it is, as Sir David Brewster says, the centre and soul of our world, the lamp that lights it, the fire that heats it, the magnet that guides and controls it, the fountain of colour, which gives its azure to the sky, its verdure to the fields, its rainbow-hues to the gay world of flowers, and the purple light of love to the marble cheek of youth and beauty;—we think that the ancients, if they had thought upon, or had known, all this, would not have given the earth a chief place in our system. And that they did so is all the more strange when we remember that they attributed to the world a soul (the "soul of the world" is a favourite idea with the great philosophers of antiquity), and looked upon the planets as living creatures.

132

THE LIFE-BLOOD OF VEGETATION.

But they were swayed by that egotistical instinct which leads man to refer everything to himself, even the very gods. which he has created after his own image. The Bible teaches us that there is but one God. Alas! are there not as many gods as there are men? Does not each of us create a deity in accordance with his own inclinations, his mode of thought, his degree of mental culture, the sphere of his ideas? Is the God of a tolerant philosopher identical with that of a bigoted fanatic ? It is not so much due to a deceitful appearance, an optical illusion, as to a kind of innate infatuation, that the human race have come to consider the planet they inhabit as the centre of the universe.

CAUSES OF THE CIRCULATION OF THE SAP.

Let us return to the sap, the life-blood of vegetation.

How is it that its movement does not recommence at the same time in all plants? Why are some clothed with leaves when the others are scarcely budding? Wherefore, in certain genera, do the flowers appear before the leaves?

Some authorities assert,-but facts show it to be a purely gratuitous supposition, that the flower, which, with the fruit, seems to be the goal or object of vegetation, demands a greater activity on the part of the sap. But, in truth, many trees and shrubs, such as the poplar, the willow, and the hazel, flourish at an epoch when the sap is barely aroused from its protracted lethargy.

ITS ASCENT AND DESCENT.

These are questions which have still to be answered.

133

But upon yet another question we may dwell at some detail. What is the cause of the circulation of the sap?

To the best of our knowledge, this important problem has never been propounded as it should have been. And for this reason: all observers who have taken up its consideration have had in view only the rising sap, and the cause of its rising. Evidently this is but a part of the problem. The ascending sap, after undergoing an important modification in the leaves, becomes the descending sap; just as the venous blood is transformed, on coming into contact with the air in the lungs, into arterial blood. It is this alternative movement of going and coming which constitutes the circulation both of the sap and the blood, and which ceases completely only with the life of the plant or the animal. We must, therefore, bear in mind,-which has not been hitherto done,-these two opposite, yet indissolubly connected, movements, before we can approach with advantage the solution of the proposed question.*

Science consists in discovering, among the different ways of looking at things which present themselves to the mind, the one which appears to explain most clearly the phenomena submitted to observation. He who doubts the accuracy of our remark need only join us in reviewing the different opinions enunciated up to the present time on the cause of the rise of the sap.

* The best means of ascertaining the coexistence of an ascending and descending sap have been indicated in "The Circle of the Year," pp. 163-8.