In virtue of a mysterious and inscrutable force which resides in the microscopic embryo of the seed, a tree begins its growth. For a brief interval, this growth is maintained by the prepared food stored in the cotyledons, and this suffices to produce and to bring into functional activity--some root-fibrils below and leaves above, with which the independent and self-sustained life of the individual begins. Henceforward, perhaps for a thousand years, this life goes on, active in summer and dormant in winter, absorbing the sunlight as a motive power which it controls and guides. Its instruments are the discriminating cells at the extremities of the root-fibrils, which search for, select, and absorb the crude aliment adapted to the needs of the plant to which they belong, and the chlorophyl cells--the lungs and stomach of the tree--in the leaves. During all the years of the growth of the plant, these organs are mainly occupied in breaking the strongly riveted bonds that unite oxygen and carbon in carbonic acid; appropriating the carbon and driving off most of the oxygen. In the end, if the tree is, e. g., a _Sequoia_, some hundreds of tons of solid, organized tissue have been raised into a column hundreds of feet in height, in opposition to the force of gravitation and to the affinities of inorganic chemistry.
The time comes, however, sooner or later, when the power which has created and the life that has pervaded this wonderful structure abandon it. The affinities of inorganic chemistry immediately reassert themselves, in ordinary circumstances rapidly tearing down the ephemeral fabric.
The disintegration of organic tissue, when deserted by the force which has animated and preserved it, gives rise to the phenomena which form the theme of this paper.
Most animal-tissue decomposes with great rapidity, and plant tissue, when not protected, soon decays. This decay is essentially oxidation, since its final result is the restoration to the atmosphere of carbonic acid, which is broken up in plant-growth by the appropriation of its carbon. Hence it is a kind of combustion, although this term is more generally applied to very rapid oxidation, with the evolution of sensible light and heat. But, whether the process goes on rapidly or slowly, the same force is evolved that is absorbed in the growth of plant-tissue; and by accelerating and guiding its evolution, we are able to utilize this force in the production at will of heat, light, and their correlatives, chemical affinity, motive power, electricity, and magnetism. The decomposition of plants may, however, be more or less retarded, and it then takes the form of a destructive distillation, the constituents reacting upon each other, and forming temporary combinations, part of which are evolved, and part remain behind. Water is the great extinguisher of this as of the more rapid oxidation that we call combustion; and the decomposition of plant-tissue under water is extremely slow, from the partial exclusion of oxygen. Buried under thick and nearly impervious masses of clay, where the exclusion of oxygen is still more nearly complete, the decomposition is so far retarded that plant-tissue, which is destroyed by combustion almost instantaneously, and if exposed to "the elements"--moisture with a free access of oxygen--decays in a year or two, may be but partially consumed when millions of years have passed. The final result is, however, inevitable, and always the same, viz., the oxidation and escape of the organic mutter, and the concentration of the inorganic matter woven into its composition--in it, but not of it--forming what we call the ash of the plant.