erbage; and the love of change, which becomes morbid and
feverish in following the haste of the hunter, and the rage of the
combatant, is at once soothed and satisfied as it watches the wandering
of the tendril, and the budding of the flower. Nor is this all: the new
direction of mental interest marks an infinite change in the means and
the habits of life. The nations whose chief support was in the chase,
whose chief interest was in the battle, whose chief pleasure was in the
banquet, would take small care respecting the shapes of leaves and
flowers; and notice little in the forms of the forest trees which
sheltered them, except the signs indicative of the wood which would make
the toughest lance, the closest roof, or the clearest fire. The
affectionate observation of the grace and outward character of
vegetation is the sure sign of a more tranquil and gentle existence,
sustained by the gifts, and gladdened by the splendor, of the earth. In
that careful distinction of species, and richness of delicate and
undisturbed organization, which characterize the Gothic design, there is
the history of rural and thoughtful life, influenced by habitual
tenderness, and devoted to subtle inquiry; and every discriminating and
delicate touch of the chisel, as it rounds the petal or guides the
branch, is a prophecy of the developement of the entire body of the
natural sciences, beginning with that of medicine, of the recovery of
literature, and the establishment of the most necessary principles of
domestic wisdom and national peace.

Sec. LXX. I have before alluded to the strange and vain supposition, that
the original conception of Gothic architecture had been derived from
vegetation,--from the symmetry of avenues, and the interlacing of
branches. It is a supposition which never could have existed for a
moment in the mind of any person acquainted with early Gothic; but,
however idle as a theory, it is most valuable as a testimony to the
character of the perfected style. It is precisely because the reverse of
this theory is the fact, because the Gothic did not arise out of, but
develope itself into, a resemblance to vegetation, that this resemblance
is so instructive as an indication of the temper of the builders. It was
no chance suggestion of the form of an arch from the bending of a bough,
but a gradual and continual discovery of a beauty in natural forms which
could be more and more perfectly transferred into those of stone, that
in