at the foundation of the wall, and voluntarily sent down its root to obtain it; nor is it wonderful that the Author of life should provide for it as effectually as it could for itself, had it really been a reflecting being. So in the case of the grasses in question, I presume the herb being in the first instance starved, by a failure of the nutrimental fluids hitherto conveyed by the water of the soil, its growth would be checked, and when checked the same growth could not, as we know by observation on vegetation in general, be instantaneously renewed. A sudden fresh supply of food would therefore cause an accumulation of vital energy in the root, which would consequently assume a degree of vigour and a luxuriant mode of growth not natural to it, and become bulbous. Thus it acquires a resource against such checks in future, and the herb is preserved alive, though in a very far less luxuriant state than when regularly and uniformly supplied with its requisite nourishment. These are not solitary instances. It is well worthy the attention of an intelligent cultivator to seek them out, and turn them to his advantage.