Coming down to the present year, a glance through the proceedings of pomological societies, and the debates of farmers’ clubs, brings out the same difference of opinion.  The testimony is nearly equally divided.  Perhaps the larger number speak of the deterioration and failure of particular old sorts; but when the question turns on “wearing out,” the positive evidence of vigorous trees and sound fruits is most telling.  A little positive testimony outweighs a good deal of negative.  This cannot readily be explained away, while the failures may be, by exhaustion of soil, incoming of disease, or alteration of climate or circumstances.  On the other hand, it may be urged that, if a variety of this sort is fated to become decrepit and die out, it is not bound to die out all at once, and everywhere at the same time.  It would be expected first to give way wherever it is weakest, from whatever cause.  This consideration has an important bearing upon the final question, Are old varieties of this kind on the way to die out on account of their age or any inherent limit of vitality?

Here, again, Mr. Knight took an extreme view.  In his essay in the “Philosophical Transactions,” published in the year 1810, he propounded the theory, not merely of a natural limit to varieties from grafts and cuttings, but even that they would not survive the natural term of the life of the seedling trees from which they were originally taken.  Whatever may have been his view of the natural term of the life of a tree, and of a cutting being merely a part of the individual that produced it, there is no doubt that he laid himself open to the effective replies which were made from all sides at the time, and have lost none of their force since.  Weeping-willows, bread-fruits, bananas, sugar-cane, tiger-lilies, Jerusalem artichokes, and the like, have been propagated for a long while in this way, without evident decadence.  Moreover, the analogy upon which his hypothesis is founded will not hold.  Whether or not one adopts the present writer’s conception, that individuality is not actually reached or maintained in the vegetable world, it is clear enough that a common plant or tree is not an individual in the sense that a horse or man, or any one of the higher animals, is—­that it is an individual only in the sense that a branching zoophyte or mass of coral is.  Solvitur crescendo:  the tree and the branch equally demonstrate that they are not individuals, by being divided with impunity and advantage, with no loss of life, but much increase.  It looks odd enough to see a writer like Mr. Sisley reproducing the old hypothesis in so bare a form as this:  “I am prepared to maintain that varieties are individuals, and that as they are born they must die, like other individuals . . .  We know that oaks, Sequoias, and other trees, live several centuries, but how many we do not exactly know.  But that they must die, no one in his senses will dispute.”  Now, what people in their senses do dispute is, not that the tree will die, but that other trees, established from its cuttings, will die with it.