Journal 02, 1850-September 15, 1851: The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, Volume 08 (of 20)Thoreau, Henry David
Religion
Journal 02, 1850-September 15, 1851: The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, Volume 08 (of 20)
Thoreau, Henry David
Authors, American -- 19th century -- Diaries; Thoreau, Henry David, 1817-1862 -- Diaries
Sinclair says the hornbeam is called “swamp beech” in Vermont.
_May 20. Tuesday._ There is, no doubt, a perfect analogy between the
life of the human being and that of the vegetable, both of the body and
the mind. The botanist Gray says:—
“The organs of plants are of two sorts:—1. Those of _Vegetation_,
which are concerned in growth,—by which the plant takes in the aërial
and earthy matters on which it lives, and elaborates them into the
materials of its own organized substance; 2. Those of _Fructification_
or _Reproduction_, which are concerned with the propagation of the
species.”
So is it with the human being. I am concerned first to come to my
_Growth_, intellectually and morally (and physically, of course, as
a means to this, for the body is the symbol of the soul), and then to
bear my _Fruit_, do my _Work_, _propagate_ my kind, not only physically
but _morally_, not only in body but in mind.
“The organs of vegetation are the _Root_, _Stem_, and _Leaves_. The
_Stem_ is the axis and original basis of the plant.”
“The first point of the stem preëxists in the embryo (_i. e._ in the
rudimentary plantlet contained within the seed): it is here called the
radicle.” Such is the rudiment of mind, already partially developed,
more than a bud, but pale, having never been exposed to the light, and
slumbering coiled up, packed away in the seed, unfolded [_sic_].
Consider the still pale, rudimentary, infantine, radicle-like thoughts
of some students, which who knows what they might expand to, if they
should ever come to the light and air, if they do not become rancid and
perish in the seed. It is not every seed that will survive a thousand
years. Other thoughts further developed, but yet pale and languid, like
shoots grown in a cellar.
“The plant ... develops from the first in two opposite directions,
_viz._ upwards [to expand in the light and air] to produce and continue
the stem (or _ascending axis_), and downwards [avoiding the light][169]
to form the root (or _descending_ axis). The former is ordinarily or in
great part aërial, the latter subterranean.”
So the mind develops from the first in two opposite directions: upwards
to expand in the light and air; and downwards avoiding the light to
form the root. One half is aërial, the other subterranean. The mind
is not well balanced and firmly planted, like the oak, which has not
as much root as branch, whose roots like those of the white pine are
slight and near the surface. One half of the mind’s development must
still be root,—in the embryonic state, in the womb of nature, more
unborn than at first. For each successive new idea or bud, a new
rootlet in the earth. The growing man penetrates yet deeper by his
roots into the womb of things. The infant is comparatively near the
surface, just covered from the light; but the man sends down a tap-root
to the centre of things.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account