ving creatures," quoth she, "so long as the body and soul
remain united, the living creature remaineth. But when this unity is
dissolved by their separation, it is manifest that it perisheth, and is
no longer a living creature. The body also itself, so long as it
remaineth in one form by the conjunction of the parts, appeareth the
likeness of a man. But if the members of the body, being separated and
sundered, have lost their unity, it is no longer the same. And in like
manner it will be manifest to him that will descend to other
particulars, that everything continueth so long as it is one, and
perisheth when it loseth unity." "Considering more particulars, I find
it to be no otherwise." "Is there anything," quoth she, "that in the
course of nature, leaving the desire of being, seeketh to come to
destruction and corruption?" "If," quoth I, "I consider living creatures
which have any nature to will and nill, I find nothing that without
extern compulsion forsake the intention to remain, and of their own
accord hasten to destruction. For every living creature laboureth to
preserve his health, and escheweth death and detriment. But what I
should think of herbs, and trees, and of all things without life, I am
altogether doubtful."

"But there is no cause why thou shouldst doubt of this, if thou
considerest first that herbs and trees grow in places agreeable to their
nature, where, so much as their constitution permitteth, they cannot
soon wither and perish. For some grow in fields, other upon hills, some
in fenny, other in stony places, and the barren sands are fertile for
some, which if thou wouldst transplant into other places they die. But
nature giveth every one that which is fitting, and striveth to keep them
from decaying so long as they can remain. What should I tell thee, if
all of them, thrusting as it were their lips into the ground, draw
nourishment by their roots, and convey substance and bark by the inward
pith? What, that always the softest, as the pith, is placed within, and
is covered without by the strength of the wood, and last of all the bark
is exposed to the weather, as being best able to bear it off? And how
great is the diligence of nature that all things may continue by the
multiplication of seed; all which who knoweth not to be, as it were,
certain engines, not only to remain for a time, but successively in a
manner to endure for ev