Ao i i Wy , NG AN KT ARN At ) iy ‘) AN py hi Cornell Aniversity Library BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME FROM THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF Henry W. Sage 1891 The Natural History of Plants Their Forms, Growth, Reproduction, and Distribution From the German of the late ANTON KERNER von MARILAUN - . F. W. OLIVER, MA. DSc. With the Assistance of LADY BUSK, B.Sc. and Mrs. M. F. MACDONALD, B.Sc. With about Two Thousand Original Woodcut Illustrations VOLUME I Biology and Configuration of Plants LONDON BLACKIE & SON, Limited, 50 OLD BAILEY, E.C. GLASGOW AND DUBLIN 1902 PREFATORY NOTE TO PRESENT ISSUE. The present edition of The Natural History of Plants, though it has been revised in minor points, retains the fundamental features of its predecessors. Scientific knowledge is of course continually advancing, but Kerner’s methods were so pre-eminent that his work has attained, in a sense, the permanent value and dignity of a classic. It was therefore deemed inadvisable at the present time to make any changes beyond those referred to above, more particularly since the publishers saw their way to bring the book, by means of a reduction in price, within the reach of a larger public. F. W. O. PROFESSOR KERNER’S PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. Not long ago two artisans, who had borrowed a copy of Tue NaruraL History oF Pxiants from one of the Vienna public libraries and had studied its pages, called upon me, asking me to show them under the microscope some of the things there described. It seems that without any special educational advantages they had availed themselves of leisure moments to extend their knowledge, and had read the work with profit. On leaving, they thanked me in simple words for the pleasure, instruction, and stimulus which they had derived from the perusal of my book. I confess that these words gave me vastly more pleasure than many of the verbose and flattering reviews that had appeared in newspapers and scientific journals, many of which conveyed the impression of being the result of hasty skimming of copies sent by the publishers. The satisfaction which the little incident gave me was the greater, in that it was an assurance that I had achieved what had been my intention, namely, to write a book which might serve as a source of knowledge, not only for specialists and scholars, but also for the many who, though compelled to follow some practical calling, still take an interest in science, and who wish, each in his own particular degree, to obtain information of its progress. Popular treatises on the results of scientific investigation are by no means rare with us Germans; but in too many cases scientific problems involving serious thought are touched superficially, and, like the stone in a sweet fruit, are embedded in picturesque and attractive accounts of things purely of subordinate importance. The reader, gratified by the elegant phraseology, passes by the kernel of fact, and derives little profit from the book. Books such as these have brought the art of popular writing into discredit, and we have arrived at the point when educated people but lightly esteem, or even ignore, the results of careful vill AUTHOR'S PREFACE. and laborious investigations and the theories based upon them, if they are produced in a popular manner rather than in the conventional language of science. With the English, however, it is otherwise. I have long regarded with admiration the men of science whom you number amongst your countrymen, who present the results of their studies in words intelligible to all who seriously desire knowledge. To follow in the path of such men has always been my aim in my work and in my writings; and this was particularly before me in the production of Tor Naturat Hisrory or Puants. A. KERNER VON MARILAUN. SOME OPINIONS CONCERNING KERNER’S NATURAL HISTORY OF PLANTS LORD AVEBURY (Sir Jouy Lupspock) has said, regarding Kerner’s Natural History of Plants: “A man must be dull indeed who can read such a work as Prof. Kerner’s Natural History of Plants without deep interest. The adaptation of plants to their circumstances and conditions of life are admirably described, and are, moreover, brought out the more clearly by a great number of instructive, and in some cases beautiful, illustrations. “Tt will certainly seem, to anyone who has followed the course of botanical research during recent years, not only a work of supererogation, but 1 might almost say of impertinence, for me to recommend any work written by Prof. Kerner, and which Prof. Oliver has thought worthy of translation. With regard to the general reader, however, it may not be out of place to assure him that Botany, as revealed in these pages, is a subject of intense interest, which will furnish him with pleasant and stimulating occupation for his leisure moments, and on this ground alone, if there were no other, I welcome with pleasure this edition of Prof. Kerner’s Vatural History of Plants.” Proressor F. O. BOWER, M.A., D.Sc., F.R.S., Professor of Botany, Glasgow University, says: “Kerner’s Natural History of Plants may go far to revolutionize the teaching of Botany in the schools, introducing into it more of biological interest. It is a book to be recommended for the reading of schoolmasters themselves.” F. W. BURBIDGE, M.A., F.L.S., F.R.H.S. (London), Trinity College Botanical Gardens, Dublin, says: “The Natural History of Plants is a work that should be utilized by all teachers and lecturers of the various County Councils, and should also be in the hands of all intelligent cul- tivators of the soil. I could not possibly say too much in praise of such a remarkable work.” WILLIAM CARRUTHERS, F.B.S., F.LS., British Museum (Natural History), London, says: “Tt is certainly a singularly attractive volume for the general reader, and a useful text-book for the student. It deals with recent investigations in a way that one does not meet with in any other popular book.” EDITOR’S PREFATORY NOTES TO THE FIRST EDITION. VOLUME I. PROFESSOR KERNER has stated very succinctly, in the preface which he has been good enough to write for the English edition of Pflanzenleben, the main idea which guided him in the writing of that book. Consequently little remains for me to add save a few observations on the book in its present form. On the appearance of the original, the parts as they were issued were widely scanned, and the work soon enjoyed a large circulation. Here was a book at once attractive to the ordinary reader, and retaining unimpaired its value to trained naturalists. The scale of the undertaking was such that it was possible to give a presentment worthy of the subject. Hitherto, though Astronomy, Geology, and other branches of natural knowledge had been long accessible to the ordinary reader in popular books of the greatest value, this service had not been done for Botany. Long before the issue of Pflanzenleben was complete, the idea of an English edition suggested itself to me and to my friend, Mr. Walter Gardiner, of Cambridge. It was my hope that we should, jointly, undertake its preparation. To my great regret, Mr. Gardiner was prevented from co-operating by other duties; thus the whole responsibility of this edition falls to my lot. To my colleagues in this undertaking Mrs. Busk (Lady Busk) and Miss Ewart (Mrs. M. F. Macdonald), the chief credit is due for this translation. Indeed, without their hearty collaboration, the produc- tion of The Natural History of Plants would have been impossible. In the main, the original text has been faithfully adhered to. The translation, though not everywhere precisely literal, never departs from the spirit of the German edition. The Index to the complete work, together with a Glossary, will be appended to the concluding volume. F. W. O. Kew, November, 1894. VOLUME II. With this, the second and concluding volume of The Natural History of Plants, a brief statement and explanation of my position as editor is imperative. As stated in my note to Volume I. the English text there followed that of the original with considerable fidelity. In the second volume I have less consistently followed this course, Throughout I have not hesitated to add or substitute new matter, though ix x EDITOR'S PREFATORY NOTE. no overt indication of such departure from the original is given either by different type or otherwise. It is needless to explain that these changes are only such as the advance of botanical knowledge has rendered necessary since the original was written, and that I have never desired to depart from the intention of the author. To the specialist these modifications will be from time to time apparent; the general reader will perhaps treat me with indulgence should he think that in this matter my judgment has been at fault. Though changes occur throughout the volume, I have preserved intact the main conclusions of the author and the facts upon which they are based. To have altered these in any way, even had I been so minded, would have been inconsistent with the duties of an editor and translator. But in the purely systematic portion of the work I have been restrained by no such scruples. Professor Kerner himself regarded that portion of his work as but tentative, and as it was difficult to merely modify, the whole of this portion has been written de novo, from the Thallophytes to the end of the Gymnosperms (pp. 616-728), and in part the Monocotyledons. The exigencies of the serial issue of The Natural History of Plants alone has prevented the re-cast of the Di- cotyledons, which stand with little modification as in the original. For the portion dealing with the class Gamophycece up to the end of the Conjugate (pp. 627-659), I am indebted to my colleague, Mr. A. G. Tansley of University College, who has devoted considerable attention to the group in question. To him I now offer my hearty thanks. The glossary of botanical terms makes claim neither to complete- ness nor originality. Though a large number of the definitions and explanations have been written specially for this book, I have never hesitated to lay published sources under contribution. The laborious task of constructing the index has fallen to Mr. George Brebner, and to him is due the gratitude of such as gain through it direct and ready access to the body of the work. Few e0 Kew, August, 1895. CONTENTS OF VOLUME FIRST. INTRODUCTION. Page . r Page Tur Srupy or Piants in ANCIENT Doctrine of Metamorphosis and Screen AND IN Mopern Times. of Nature-Philosophy, - : 7 Scientific Method based on the Higa of Plants considered from the point of view Development, — - - - - - 13 of Utility, - - - - - - 1 | Objects of Botanical Research at the present The Description and Classification of Plants, 3 day, - - - - - - - 15 THE LIVING PRINCIPLE IN PLANTS. 1. PROTOPLASTS CONSIDERED AS THE SEAT oF LIFE. Discovery of the Cell: Researches of Swam- merdam, Leeuwenhoek, and Unger, - 21 Discovery of Protoplasm, - - - - 25 2. MovEMENTS OF PROTOPLASTS. Swimming and Creeping Protoplasts, - - 28 Movements of Protoplasm in Cell-cavities, - 32 Movements of Simple Organisms—Volvo- cine, Diatomacez, Oscillarie, and Bacteria, - - - - - - 37 3. SECRETIONS AND CONSTRUCTIVE ACTIVITY oF PROTOPLASTS. Cell-sap: Cell-nucleus: Sse ee Starch: Crystals, - - - 41 Construction of the Cell-wall and marie ment of Connections between neigh- bouring Cell-cavities, - - - - 42 4, CoMMUNICATION OF PROTOPLASTS WITH ONE ANOTHER AND WITH THE OUTER WORLD. The Transmission of Stimuli and the Specific Constitution of Protoplasm, - - - 47 Vital Force, Instinct, and Sensation, - - 61 ABSORPTION OF NUTRIMENT. 1. IntTRoDUCTION. Classification of Plants, with reference to Nutrition, - - - - - 55 Theory of Food- aie oupiion: - - - 57 2. ABSORPTION OF INORGANIC SUBSTANCES. Nutrient Gases, - - - - - - 60 Nutrient Salts, - - - - - 66 Absorption of Food-salts by Water- here - 75 Absorption of Food-salts by Lithophytes, - 79 Absorption of Food-salts by Land-plants, - 82 Relations of the Position of Foliage-leaves to that of Absorbent Roots, - - 92 3. ABSORPTION OF OrGANIC MATTER FROM Decaying PLants AND ANIMALS. Saprophytes and their Relation to Decaying Bodies, - - - - 99 Saprophytes in Water, on the Bark of Tees and on Rocks, - - - - 104 Saprophytes in the Humus of Woods Meadows, and Moors, - = - 109 Special Relations of Saprophytes to their Nutrient Substratum, - - - - 113 Plants with Traps and Pitfalls to ensnare Animals, - - - - - - 119 xl CONTENTS. Page Carnivorous Plants which exhibit Move- ments in the capture of Prey, - - 140 Carnivorous Plants with Adhesive Appa- ratus, - - - - - - - 153 4, ABSORPTION OF NUTRIMENT BY Parasitic Puants. Classification of Parasites, - - - - 159 Bacteria: Fungi, - - - - - 161 Climbing Parasites: Green-leaved Parasites: Toothwort, - : - - - - 171 Broom-rapes, Balanophore, Rafllesiaces, - 183 Mistletoes and Loranthuses, - - - 204 Grafting and Budding, - - - - 213 5. ABSORPTION OF WATER. Imyortance of Water to the Life of a Plant, 216 Absorption of Water by Lichens and Mosses, and by Epiphytes furnished with Aérial Roots, - - - - - - - 217 Page Absorption of Rain and Dew by the Foliage- leaves, - - 2 - - - - 225 Development of Absorption-cells in Special Cavities and Grooves in the Leaves, - 230 6. SymBiosis. Lichens, - : = - - - 243 Symbiosis of Green-leaved Phanevoeane with Fungal Mycelia destitute of Chloro- phyll: Monotropa, - - - - 249 Animals and Plants considered as a great Symbiotic Community, - - - 254 7. CHANGES IN THE SOIL INCIDENT TO THE NurrRiTion oF Puants. Solution, Displacement, and Accumulation of particular Mineral Constituents of the Soil resulting from the Action of Plants, - - - - - - 257 Mechanical Changes effected in the ground by Plants, - - - - - - 265 CONDUCTION OF FOOD. 1. MrecHanics oF THE MoVEMENT OF THE Raw Foop-sap. Capillarity and qogiteae - - - 269 Transpiration, - - - - - 273 2. REGULATION OF TRANSPIRATION. Means of accelerating Transpiration, - - 284 Maintenance of a Free Passage for Aqueous Vapour, - - - - - 290 3. PREVENTION OF EXCESSIVE TRANSPIRATION. Protective Arrangements on the Epidermis, 307 Form and Position of the Transpiring Leaves and Branches - - - - 325 4, TRANSPIRATION DURING VARIOUS SEASONS OF THE YEAR: TRANSPIRATION OF LIANES. Old and Young Leaves, - - - - 347 Fall of the Leaf, - - - 355 Connection between the Structure of the Vascular Tissues and Transpiration, - 362 5. ConDUCTION OF FooD-GASES TO THE Puaces oF CoNnsUMPTION. Transmission of the Food-gases in Land and Water Plants and in Lithophytes: Sig- nificance of Aqueous Tissue in the con- duction of Food-gases, - - - - 367 FORMATION OF ORGANIC MATTER FROM THE ABSORBED INORGANIC FOOD. 1. CHLOROPHYLL AND CHLOROPHYLL- GRANULES. Chlorophyll-granules and the Sun’s Rays, - 371 Chlorophyll-granules and the Green Tissue under the Influence of various degrees of Illumination, - - - - - 379 2. THe GREEN LEAVES. Distribution of theGreen Leaves on the Stem, 396 Relation between Position and Form of Green Leaves, - - - - - 408 Arrangements for retaining the Position assumed, - - - - - - 424 Protective Arrangements of Green Leaves against the Attacks of Animals, - - 430 CONTENTS. xill METABOLISM AND TRANSPORT OF MATERIALS. Page 1. Toe Oraanic Compounps IN PLants. Carbon Compounds, - - : - - 452 Metabolism in Living Plants, - - - 455 2. TRANSPORT oF SUBSTANCES IN LIVING Pants. Mechanisms for Conveyance to and fro, - 465 Significance of Anthocyanin in the Trans- Page portations and Transformations of Ma- terials: Autumnal Colouring of Foliage, 483 3. PRoPELLING ForRcES IN THE CONVERSION AND DIstRiIBUTION oF MATERIALS. Respiration, - A = 2 = - 491 Development of Light and Heat, - - 496 Fermentation, - - - - - - 504 GROWTH AND CONSTRUCTION OF PLANTS. 1. THEORY oF GROWTH. Conditions and Mechanics of Growth, - - 510 Effects of Growing Cells on Environment, - 513 2. GRowTH AND HkEat. Sources of Heat: Transformation of Light into Heat, - - - - - - 517 Influence of Heat on the Configuration and Distribution of Plants, - - - 523 Measures for protecting Growing Plants from Loss of Heat, = - - - - 528 Freezing and Buruing, - - - - 539 Estimation of the Heat necessary to Growth, 557 3. ULTIMATE STRUCTURE OF PLANTS. Hypotheses as to the Form and Size of the smallest Particles employed in the Con- struction of Plants, = - - - - 566 Visible Constructive Activity in Protoplasm, 572 PLANT-FORMS AS COMPLETED STRUCTURES. 1. Progressive STAGES IN COMPLEXITY OF STRUCTURE FROM UNICELLULAR PLANTS To PLANT-BODIES, - - 584 2. Form or Lrar-sTRUCTURES. Definition and Classification of Leaves, - 693 Cotyledons, - - - - - - 598 Scale-leaves, Foliage-leaves, Floral-leaves, - 623 3. Forms or STEM-STRUCTURES. Definition and Classification of Stems: The Hypocotyl: Stems bearing Scale-leaves. 647 Stems bearing Foliage-leaves, - - - 655 Procumbent and Floating Stems, - - 661 Climbing Stems, - - - - - 669 Erect Foliage-stems, - - - - - 710 Resistance of Foliage-stems to Strain, Pres- sure, and Bending, - - - - 724 The Floral-stem, - - - - - 736 4, Forms or Roots. Relation of external and internal Structure to Function, - : . - - 749 Definition of the Root, - - - - 764 Remarkable Properties of Roots, - - 767 ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOLUME FIRST. FROM ORIGINAL DRAWINGS BY E. HEYN, H. v. KONIGSBRUNN, E. v. RANSONNET, J. SEELOS, F. TEUCHMANN, 0. WINKLER, AND OTHERS. Page Seedlings with Cotyledons and Foliage-leaves, 9 Metamorphoses of Leaves as exhibited by the Poppy, 11 Goethe’s “ Urpflanze”, - - = Pe rae Vegetable Cells, : - - - 22 Protoplasm inclosed in Cells, - - - = 25 Cell-chambers, showing Intercellular Spaces and Intercellular Substance, = - 27 Swimming Protoplasm, - - - : - 29 Pulsating Vacuoles in the Protoplasm of the large Swarm-spores of Ulothrix, - - - - 81 Creeping Protoplasm, - - - : 2 32 Connecting Passages between adjacent Cell-cavities, 45 Linaria Cymbalaria dropping its Seeds into Clefts in the Rocks, 53 Absorptive Cells on Root of Penstemon, 87 Centrifugal and Centripetal Transmission of Water, 94 Irrigation of Rain-water in Plants, - = 207, Aérial Roots of a Tropical Orchid assuming the form of straps, - - - : - - 107 Transverse section through absorption-roots of Saprophytes, = - - - - - 115 Bladderworts, - - - - - - 120 Traps of Utricularia neglecta, - - - 121 Spinous Structures in the Pitfalls of Carnivorous Plants, - - - - - 124 Sarracenia purpurea, - - . - 125 Ascidia-bearing and Pitcher- plants - - 127 Cephalotus follicularis, = - - - 131 Young Nepenthes plants, - 182 Nepenthes destillatoria, - - - - 133 Glandular structures in the Toothwort, Bartsia, and Butterwort, - - . - - = 137 Tentacles on leaf of Sun-dew, - - - - 145 Venus’s Fly-trap (Dionea muscipula), - - 148 Capturing apparatus of the leaves of Aldro- vandia and Venus’s Fly-trap, - - 150 Aldrovandia vesiculosa, - - - - - 151 The Fly-catcher (Drosophyllum lusitanicwm), - 155 Lonicera ciliosa in South Carolina, - : - 160 Hyphe of Parasitic Fungi, - : - - 165 Parasites on Hydrophytes, : : - - 169 Seedlings of Parasitic Plants, - - . - 173 Cuscuta Europea parasitic on a Hop-stem, - - 175 Bastard Toad-flax (Thesium alpinum), - 2174, Toothwort (Lathrea Syuamaria), with suckers upon the roots of a Poplar, - Langsdorfia hypogea, from Central America, Parasitic Balanophoree (Scybalium fungiforme and Balanophora Hildenbrandtit), Parasitic Balanophoree (Rhopalocnemis phalloides and Helosis gujanensis), Parasitic Balanophoree (Lophophytum mirabile and Sarcophyte sanguinea), - - Cytinus Hypocistus and Cynomorium coccineum, - Rafflesiacee parasitic on trunks and branches, Parasitic Rafflesiacea upon a Cissus-root, Raflesia Padma, parasitic on roots upon the sur- face of the ground, The European Mistletoe (Viseum Bhvia) Bushes of Mistletoe upon the Black Poplar in winter, Loranthus Hopes and Mistletoe ( Viscum album)—both parasitic on branches of trees, A piece of Fir-tree perforated by the sinkers of a Mistletoe, Porous Cells of Fork-moss, Bog-moss, and an Orchid root, Aérial Roots of an Orchid epiphytic upon bark of the branch of a tree, Aérial Roots with root-hairs, Hairs and Leaves which retain Dew and Rain, Cauline and Capitate Hairs, Absorption of Water by Foliage-leaves, Absorptive Cavities and Cups on Foliage-leaves, Water-receptacles in Plants, Gelatinous Lichens, - Fruticose and Foliaceous Lichens, Roots with Mycelial Mantle; Mycelium see into the external cells, - Olive Grove on the Shores of Lake Garda, - Transpiring Cells, Spongy Tissue of Franciscea eximia and Daphne Laureola, - Corypha umbraculifera of Ceylon, Stomata of Nephrodium Filix-mas and Peperomia arifolia, Protection of Stomata from Moisture by Papilla- like outgrowths of the Surface, - and seen in section. Page - 181 - 187 - 189 191 - 195 197 - 201 202 203 - 206 207 - 209 219 221 - 224 - 228 - 229 - 232 233 239 244 - 245 250 275 278 279 289 294 295 ILLUSTRATIONS. Protection of Stomata from Moisture by Cuticular Pegs, - - - - - : - : Over-arched Stomata of Australian Proteacez, - Stomata in Pit-like Depressions, - - : Stomata in the Furrows of Green Stems, - - Orchids whose Stomata lie in Hollow Tubercles, - Transverse Sections through Rolled Leaves, : Vertical Section through a Rolled Leaf, - : Thickened Stratified Cuticle, - - - - Caryota propinqua, - - - : - : Vertical Section of Leaf of Caryota propingua, - Edelweiss (@naphalium Leontopodium), - Covering Hairs of various plants, - - - Covering Hairs of various plants, - : Flinty armour of Rochea falcata, - : : Switch-plants, - - - - - : : Switch-shrubs, sections of Stems, - : - Plants with Leaf-like Branches (Cladodes), - Plants with Leaf-like Branches (Cladodes), - Compass Plants, : - - - : Folding of Grass-leaves (Sesleria tenuifolia), - Folding of Grass-leaves (Stipa capillata and Fes- tuca alpestris), - - - . - - Folding of Grass-leaves (Lasiagrostis Calama- grostis and Festuca Porcit), - - - - Folding of Grass-leaves (Festuca punctoria), Folding of Moss-leaves (Polytrichum commune), - Unfolding of Leaves of various plants, - - Leaf-unfolding of the Tulip-tree, - - - Unfolding of Beech-leaves, - . : - Leaf-fall of the Horse-chestnut, - - - - Indian Climbing Palms ee - - - Lianes, Stems of, _- - - : - Aroids, with cord-like aérial roots, - - - Position of the Chlorophyll-granules in the cells of the Ivy-leaved Duckweed (Lemnu trisulca), Plan of Whorled Phyllotaxis, - - - - Plan for Spiral Phyllotaxis, : - - - Plan of Five-thirteenths Phyllotaxis, - - Parastichies of a Pine-cone, - - - Displacement of the leaf-positions in consequence of torsion of the stem, : - - - Leaf-mosaic, Leaf-rosettes, and Scale-like Leaves, Formation of a Leaf-mosaic, - - Spruce Firs (Abzes excelsa), - - : Erect Leafy Twig of the Norway Maple, - Twisting of Internodes and Leaf-stalks, - Horizontally growing Leafy Twig of the Paper Mulberry-tree (Broussonetia papyrifera), - Leafy Twig projecting laterally from the Stem of the Norway Maple (Acer platanoides), - : Leaf-mosaics of Unsymmetrical Leaves, Mosaic of Leaves of unequal size, : : Mosaic of Unsymmetrical Leaves of anequal size, Leaf-mosaic (Ivy), - - : - - Acantholimon and spiny Tragacanth-shrubs, Group of Thistles (Cirsium nemorale), - - Acanthus spinosissimus, - - : - : Page 296 297 298 299 300 301 303 310 311 312 - 815 321 - 822 323 331 832 333 335 - 337 341 Weapons of Plants, - . : - - é Weapons of Plants, - - - - = fs Chemical Diagrams (three), - - - : Chemical Diagram, - : : Z F : Crystals and Crystalloids in Plant-cells, Various Forms of Starch-grains, - - Portion cut from a Branch (diagrammatic), - Organs for Removal of Substances, - - - Rhynchosia phaseoloides, a Liane with ribbon-like Stems, F a ‘ . Z = Transverse sections of Liane Stems, - a a Leafless Branches of Tecoma radicans, rooted on a wall, - - - - - 2 - Elevation of a Block of Stone in consequence of the growth in thickness of a Larch Root, Alpine Willows with stems and branches clinging to the ground, - - - - - - Periodic bending of Flowers and Inflorescences, - Alteration of Position of Leaflets in Compound Leaves, - - - - - - : Mimosa pudica in day and night positions, - - Mountain Pines (Pinus humilis) in the Tyrol, Detachment of special shoots of Potamogeton crispus, for hibernation under water, - 3 Edible Lichen (Lecanora esculenta) in the desert, Changes in the Protoplasm of the Cell-nucleus during its division, - - : - Laminarias in the North Sea, - - - = Liverworts with Cell-nets, Cell-plates, and Cell- rows in various transitional forms, - - Cotyledons, various examples shown in detail, - Process of Development—(Rhizophora conjugata), Mangroves on the West Coast of India at ebb- tide, - - - - - : - Germinating Seeds and Seedlings, Liberation of the Cotyledons from the al of the seed or fruit husk, - - - Anchoring of the Water-chestnut (Z’rapa), - : The Boring of Fruits into the Ground, Feather- grass and Stork’s-bill, : - : Cotyledons of various Plants, - - - Arrangement of Strands in the blades of Foliage- leaves, Forms with one main strand, - : Distribution of Strands in the blades of Foliage- Forms with several main strands, - leaves. Flowers of the Silver Lime and Arrow-grass, Cotton Trees of the Brazilian catingas, Agaves of the Mexican yaaa - - Yucca gloriosa, - : 5 = : Vallisneria spiralis, - : - - 2 Rotangs in Java, - 4 . : 2 Shoot-apices of three species of Rotang, - Branches of the New Zealand Bramble, _ - - Palm-stem used as a support by the eae stems of one of the Clusiacee, - Twining Hop (Humulus Lupulus), in detail, - Portion of a Liane stem, twisted like a cork- screw, - - : - - - - 603 - 605 607 611 617 619 621 631 633 - 646 - 656 - 657 659 - 667 - 675 - 676 677 - 681 688 689 Xvi1 ILLUSTRATIONS. Page Stipular tendrils of the common Smilax, - - 690 Leaf-stalk tendrils of Atragene alpina, - - 691 Branch-tendrils of Serjania gramatophora, - - 693 Tendrils of the Bryony (Bryonia), - - - 696 Light-avoiding Tendrils of Vitis inserta and Vitis inconstans, - - - - 699 Ivy (Hedera Helix) arened by timing roots to the trunk of an Oak, - : - - 703 Ficus with girdle-like clasping roots, - : - 705 Ficus Benjamina with incrusting climbing roots, 707 Bignonia argyro-violacea, from Brazil, : - 709 Ficus with lattice-forming climbing roots, - - 711 Bamboos in Java, — - : : : - - 713 The Oak, : : - - - 716 The Silver Fir (dies en : : - 717 Birch Trunks with white membraneous bark, - 721 Eucalyptus trees in Australia, - : - - 723 Diagrammatic representation of various combined girders, — - - : : : : - 728 Transverse sections of erect foliage-stems with simple girders not fused together into a tube, Transverse sections of erect foliage-stems with simple girders fused into cylindrical tubes, Transverse sections of erect foliage-stems with flanges developed as secondary girders, Transverse section of the climbing stem of the Atragene (Atragene alpina), - Undulations of old ribbon-shaped Liane stems, - Transverse sections of a runner of the Garden Strawberry and of the Water Milfoil, - - Branch of the Walnut-tree with hanging male catkins, and a small cluster of female flowers, India-rubber Tree (Ficus elastica) and Banyan- tree (Ficus Indica), - The Screw Pine (Pandanus utilis), Stilt-like and columnar roots of Mangroves, Bramble-bush in which the branches have taken root, - = e Page 729 - 730 - 731 - 738 734 735 742 - 755 - 758 - 759 769 THE BIOLOGY AND CONFIGURATION OF PLANTS THE NATURAL HISTORY OF PLANTS. INTRODUCTION. THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND IN MODERN TIMES. Plants considered from the point of view of utility.—Description and classification of plants.— Doctrine of metamorphosis and speculations of nature-philosophy.—Scientific method based on the history of development.—Objects of botanical research at the present day. PLANTS CONSIDERED FROM THE POINT OF VIEW OF UTILITY. Some years ago I rambled over the mountain district of North Italy in the lovely month of May. In a small sequestered valley, the slopes of which were densely clad with mighty oaks and tall shrubs, I found the flora developed in all its beauty. There, in full bloom, was the laburnum and manna-ash, besides. broom and sweet-brier, and countless smaller shrubs and grasses. From every bush came the song of the nightingale; and the whole glorious perfection of a. southern spring morning filled me with delight. Speaking, as we rested, to my guide, an Italian peasant, I expressed the pleasure I experienced in this wealth of laburnum blossoms and chorus of nightingales. Imagine the rude shock to my feelings on his replying briefly that the reason why the laburnum was so luxuriant was that its foliage was poisonous, and goats did not eat it; and that though no doubt there were plenty of nightingales, there were scarcely any hares left. For him, and I daresay for thousands of others, this valley clothed with flowers was nothing more than a pasture-ground, and nightingales were merely things to be shot. This little occurrence, however, seems to me characteristic of the way in which the great majority of people look upon the world of plants and animals. To their minds animals are game, trees are timber and fire-wood, herbs are vegetables (in the limited sense), or perhaps medicine or provender for domestic animals, whilst. flowers are pretty for decoration. Turn in what direction I would, in every country where I have travelled for botanical purposes, the questions asked by the inhabitants were always the same. Lverywhere I had to explain whether the plants I sought and gathered were poisonous or not; whether they were efficacious as cures for this or that illness; and by what signs the medicinal or otherwise fy VoL. I. 1 1 2 THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. useful plants were to be recognized and distinguished from the rest. And the attitude of the great mass of country folk in times past was the same as at the present day. All along anxiety for a livelihood, the need of the individual to satisfy his own hunger, the interests of the family, the provision of food for domestic animals, have been the factors that have first led men to classify plants into the nutritious and the poisonous, into those that are pleasant to the taste and those that are unpleasant, and have induced them to make attempts at cultivation, and to observe the various phenomena of plant-life. No less powerful as an incentive to the study of herbs, roots, and seeds, ana to the minute comparison of similar forms and the determination of their differences, was the hope and belief that the higher powers had endowed particular plants with healing properties. In ancient Greece there was a special guild, the “ Rhizotomoi,” whose members collected and prepared such roots and herbs as were considered to be curative, and either sold them themselves or caused them to be sold by apothecaries. Through the labours of these Rhizotomoi, added to those of Greek, Roman, and Arabic physicians, and of gardeners, vine-growers, and farmers, a mass of information concerning the plant-world was acquired, which for a long period stood as botanical science. As late as the sixteenth century plants were looked upon from a purely utilitarian point of view, not only by the masses but also by very many professed scholars; and in most of the books of that time we find the medicinal properties, and the general utility of the plants selected for descrip- tion and discrimination, occupying a conspicuous position and treated in an exhaustive manner. Just as men lived in the firm belief that human destinies depended upon the stars, so they clung to the notion that everything upon the earth was created for the sake of mankind; and, in particular, that in every plant there were forces lying dormant which, if liberated, would conduce either to the welfare or to the injury of man. Points which might serve as bases for the discovery of these secrets of nature were eagerly sought for. People imagined they discerned magic in many plants, and even believed that they were able to trace in the resemblance of certain leaves, flowers, and fruits to parts of the human body, an indication, emanating from supernatural powers, of the manner in which the organ in question was intended to affect the human constitution. The similarity in shape between a particular foliage-leaf and the liver did duty for a sign that the leaf was capable of successful application in cases of hepatic disease, and the fact of a blossom being heart-shaped must mean that it would cure cardiac com- plaints. Thus arose the so-called doctrine of Signatures, which, brought to its highest development by the Swiss alchemist Bombastus Paracelsus (1493-1541), played a great part in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and still survives at the present day in the mania for nostrums. The inclination of the masses is now, as it was centuries ago, in favour of supernatural and mysterious rather than simple and natural interpretations; and a Bombastus Paracelsus would still find no lack of credulous followers. In truth, the great bulk of mankind regard Botany as subservient to medicine and agriculture, they look at it from the purely THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. 3 utilitarian point of view in a manner not essentially different from that of two hundred—or even two thousand—years ago, and it may well be a long time before they rise above this idea. In addition to the botanical knowledge thus initiated by the necessities of life, a second avenue leading to the same goal was early established by man’s sense of beauty. The first effect of this was limited to the employment of wild flowers and foliage for purposes of ornament and decoration. Later on, it led to the cultivation of the more showy plants in gardens, and ultimately to the arts of gardening and horticulture, which at different periods and in different countries have passed through such various phases, corresponding to the standards of the beautiful which have prevailed. THE DESCRIPTION AND CLASSIFICATION OF PLANTS. A third path leading to botanical knowledge springs from the impulse which actuates those who are endowed with a keen perception of form to investigate structural differences down to their most minute characteristics. Workers in this field arrange and classify all distinct forms according to their external resemblances, give them names appropriate to their position and importance, catalogue them, and keep up the register when once it has been started. Many people possess, in addi- tion, the remarkable taste for collecting, which causes them to find pleasure in merely accumulating and possessing enormous numbers of specimens of the particu- lar objects on which their fancy is fixed. This tendency of the human mind has played a very important part in the history of botany. The first traces of it can be ascribed with certainty to a period long before the commencement of our era; for such descriptions and other notes as are contained in the Natural History of Plants, written by Theophrastus about the year 300 B.c., are founded, for the most part, on the observations and experiments of “Rhizotomoi,” physicians and agriculturists, and it is obvious from the text of the book that in some cases those authorities did seek out plants, and learn to distinguish them for their own sakes, and not solely for their economic or medicinal value. At the time of the Roman Empire and in the Middle Ages, it is true, no one troubled himself about plants other than those known to be in some way useful. But there was a revival of the practice of hunting for plants for the purpose of describing and enumerating all distinguishable forms, at that great epoch when the nations of the West began to study the treasures of Greek thought, endeavouring to adopt the point of view of antiquity, and to harmonize their own circumstances with it. It was at this same period that art too shook itself free from the tradi- tions of the Middle Ages, and became actuated by a new ideal based on the study of the antique; but science, particularly natural science, has as good a claim as art to regard that memorable time as its period of renaissance. Although the ancient Greek writings on natural history, to which people turned with such youthful enthusiasm in the fifteenth century, could not satisfy their thirst for 4 THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. knowledge, yet there is no doubt that, as in art, the effect was to stimulate and reform; and that this study led up to the source, so long forgotten, whence the ancients had themselves drawn their knowledge, that is, to the direct investigation of nature, which has invariably given to every branch of human knowledge new and pregnant life. As regards botanical knowledge in particular, the study of old Greek writings on the part of western nations in both Northern and Southern Europe had the immediate effect of instituting an eager search for all the different kinds of indigenous plants; and, besides arousing a passion for investigation, it evoked un- tiring industry in this pursuit, the results of which preserved in a number of bulky herbals still excite our wonder and respect. If these folios, dating for the most part from the first half of the sixteenth century, are perused in the hope of their revea}- ing some guiding principle as a basis for the arrangement of the subject, the reader will no doubt be obliged to lay them aside unsatisfied. The plants were described and discussed just as the authors happened to come across them; and it is only here and there that we find a feeble attempt to range together and make groups of nearly-allied species. Only cursory attention was paid to the facts of geographical distribution. Plants native to the soil, herbs which flowered in gardens and had been reared from seed purchased from itinerant vendors of antidotes, and plants whose fruits were brought to Europe as curiosities from the New World recently discovered—all these were jumbled together in a confused medley. The whole endeavour of the time was directed to the enumeration and description of all such things as possess the power of producing green foliage and maturing fruit under the sun’s quickening rays. Owing to the fact that researches were then limited to the native soil of the student, most of the botanical authors of that day had but dark inklings of the extent to which the floras of various latitudes and areas differ. They assumed that plants of the Mediterranean shores, which had been described centuries before by Theophrastus or Dioscorides or Pliny, were necessarily the same as those of their own more inclement countries. The German “Fathers of Botany” (Brunfels, born about 1495, died 1534; Bock, 1498-1554; Fuchs, 1501-1566, are the best known) applied the old Greek and Latin names without scruple to the species growing in their own localities. They were so firmly convinced of the identity of the German, Greek, and Italian floras that even the numerous inconsistencies occurring in the descriptions did not disconcert them, or prevent them from discussing at great length whether a particular name was intended by Theophrastus and Dioscorides to indicate this or that plant. It was by slow degrees that botanists first began to abandon these fruitless debates concerning the Greek and Latin names of plants, with which it had been the custom to fill so many pages of the herbals. Step by step they became conscious that although the yellow pages of the ancient books deserved all gratitude for the stimulating influence they had exercised, yet the green book of nature should be set above them. This led to their devoting themselves entirely to direct researches in the subject of their native floras. The THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. 5 herbal of Hieronymus Bock, which appeared in 1546, and in which “the herbs growing in German countries are described from long and sure experience,” contains a passage treating of the controversy of the day as to whether the Latin name Erica was applicable to the German Heath or not; and in the midst of the discus- sion the author expresses the opinion that “the plants we know best were the least known to the Latins;” and at last he exclaims: “Be our heath the same as Erica or not, it is in any case a pretty and sturdy little shrub, beset with numerous brown rounded branches, which are clothed all over with small green leaves; and its appearance is like that of the sweet-smelling Lavender Cotton.” And again in a number of other places, after making lengthy philological statements relating to the old names, he ends by losing patience and declaring that the proper thing would be to lay aside all disputes concerning this nomenclature. At length a Belgian, Charles de l’Ecluse (1526-1609), whose name was latinized into Clusius, emancipated himself entirely from the hair-splitting verbal contro- versies of the day. He was also the first to abandon the utilitarian standpoint; and in his extensive work, which appeared at the end of the sixteenth century, he was guided solely by the desire to become acquainted with every flowering thing. He therefore endeavoured to distinguish, describe, and where possible to draw the various forms of plants, to cultivate them, and to preserve them in a dried condition. It was just at that time that collections of dried plants began to be made. Such a collection was at first called a “hortus siccus,” and later on a “herbarium.” All museums of natural history were forthwith furnished with them. Moreover, Clusius, actuated by the wish to see with his own eyes what the vegetation on the other side of the mountains looked like, was the first man to travel for the purpose of botanizing. In order to extend his knowledge of plants he roamed over Europe from the sierras of Spain to the borders of Hungary, and from the sea-coast to the highlands of the Tyrol. Journeys of this kind in pursuit of botanical know- ledge were by degrees extended to wider and wider limits, and thus an abundance of material was brought together from all latitudes and from every quarter of the globe. An immense number of isolated observations were accumulated in this way, till, at length, in the first decades of the eighteenth century, the desirability of sifting and arranging this chaotic mass became urgent. When, therefore, the Swedish naturalist Linnzus (1707-1778), by the exercise of unparalleled industry, mastered in a fabulously short space of time the detailed results of centuries of labour, and afforded a general survey of all this scattered material, he obtained universal recognition. Linnzus introduced short names for the various species in place of the cumbrous older designations, and showed how to distinguish the species by means of concise descriptions. For this purpose he marked out the different parts of a plant as root, stem, leaf, bract, calyx, corolla, stamens, pistil, fruit, and seeds. Again, he distinguished particular forms of those organs, as, for instance, scapes, haulms, and peduncles as forms of stems, and in addition also the parts of each organ, such as filaments, anthers, and pollen in the stamens, and ovary, style, and stigma in the pistil; and to each one of these objects he assigned a technical name 6 THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. (terminus). With the help of the botanical terminology thus formulated it became possible not only to abridge the specific descriptions, but also to recognize species from such descriptions, and to determine what name had been given them by botanists, and to what group they belonged. Linnzus selected as a basis of classification in the “System” established by him the characteristics of the various parts of the flower. In this system the number, relative length, cohesion, and disposition of the stamens formed the ground of division into “Classes.” Within each Class, “Orders” were then differentiated according to the nature of the pistil, especially the number of styles; and each Order was again subdivided into more narrowly defined groups, which received the name of “Genera.” To the 23 classes of Flowering Plants (Phanerogamia) Linnas added as a 24th Class Flowerless Plants (Cryptogamia), which were divided into several groups (Ferns, Mosses, Alga, and Fungi) in respect of their general appearance and mode of occurrence. This system took immediate possession of the civilized world. Englishmen, Germans, and Italians now worked in unison as faithful disciples of Linneus. Even laymen studied the Linnean botany with enthusiasm; and it was recommended, especially to ladies, as a harmless pastime, not overtaxing to the mind. In France Rousseau delivered lectures on botany to a circle of educated ladies; whilst even Goethe experienced a strong attraction to the “loveliest of the sciences,” as botany was called in that day. lLinneus had introduced for the first time the name “flora” to signify a catalogue of the plants of a more or less circumscribed district. He had himself written a flora of Lapland and Sweden, and by doing so had stimulated others to undertake the compilation of similar catalogues; so that by the end of the 18th century floras of England, Piedmont, Carniola, Austria, &c., had been produced. By this means a certain perfection was attained in that field of botany which has only in view the examination of the fully-developed external forms of plants, together with the distinguishing, describing, naming, and grouping them, and the enumeration of species indigenous to particular regions. Later on, unfortunately, botanists lost themselves in a maze of dull systematizing. They either contented themselves with collecting, preparing, and arranging herbaria, or else devoted their energies to endless debates over such questions, for instance, as whether a plant, that some author had distinguished from others and described, deserved to rank as a species, or should be reckoned as a variety dependent on its habitat or on local conditions of temperature, light, and moisture. They took delight in now including a group of forms as varieties of a single species, now dividing some species as described by a particular author into several other species. For this purpose they did not rely upon the only sure method, the determination by cultural experiment of the fact of the constancy or variability of the form in question; nor did they, in general, adhere to any consistent principle to guide them in this amusement. Aberrations of this kind constituted, however, no serious barrier to progress. On the contrary, the passion for collecting continued to extend its range. The THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. 7 vegetation of the remotest corners of the earth was ransacked by travelling botanists without any material advantage being gained, though they not infre- quently ran considerable risk to their health, and sometimes sacrificed their lives. As one generation succeeded another thousands of students of the “scientia ama- bilis” made their appearance in every country. Swept along by the prevailing current of thought they devoted themselves to the examination of native and foreign floras, or to a detailed study of the most insignificant sections of the vegetable kingdom. Those who are not under the spell of this passion cannot conceive the joy experienced by the discoverer of a hitherto unknown moss. To such it is inexplicable how anyone can devote the labour of half a lifetime to a classification of Alge or Lichens, or to a monograph of the bramble-tribe or orchids. The pro- gress achieved eventually in this department of botany is best appreciated when the wide difference in the numbers of species described in botanical works of different periods is considered. Theophrastus in his Natural History of Plants (about 300 B.c.) mentions about 500 species, and Pliny (78 a.p.) rather more than 1000; whereas, by the time of Linnzus, about 10,000 were known; and now the number must be all but 200,000. It should be remarked, however, that half the plants described since Linnzeus lived fall into the category of Cryptogams, or non- flowering plants, the examination of which was first rendered possible by the wide- spread use of the microscope in recent times. The microscope led also to discoveries concerning the internal architecture of plants. A faint attempt in this direction, made 200 years ago, had died away without leaving any trace behind; but at the commencement of this century the “anward construction of plants” was studied all the more eagerly by means of the microscope. In buildings belonging to different styles of architecture it is not only the forms of the wings, stories, rooms, and gables that differ, but also and in no less degree those of the columns, pilasters, and decorations. The same is the case with plants. They possess chambers at different levels, vaults, and passages. They have pipes running through them, and beams and buttresses, some massive and some slender, to support them. The pieces of which they are built vary in size, and their walls are sculptured in all kinds of ways. It was the business of the vegetable anatomist to dissect plants, to look into all these structures under the microscope, to describe the various component parts as well as the ground-plan and elevation of the plant-edifice as a whole; and to name the different forms of struc- ture after the manner of Linneus when he invented terms for the different forms of stems and leaves, and for the several parts of the flower and fruit. DOCTRINE OF METAMORPHOSIS AND SPECULATIONS OF NATURE-PHILOSOPHY. Side by side with this immense volume of research, which was directed to the separation, description, and synoptical arrangement of mature forms only, there arose about the year 1600 another school which considered vegetable forms from 8 THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. the point of view of their life-history, and endeavoured to trace them back to their origin. Tracing the development, from one stage to another, of all the different species, of the multitudinous forms of leaves and flowers, and of the various kinds of cells and tissues, the student of this school has to detect identity in multiplicity, to show that the connection between forms which have arisen from one another is in accordance with fixed laws, and to express those laws in definite formule. The attention of botanists was in the first place directed to the wonderful series of changes in the form of the leaf which occur in all phanerogamic (i.e. flowering) plants as the delicate seedling gradually turns into a flowering shoot. At the circum- ference of the stem which constitutes the axis of the plant, foliar structures are produced at successive intervals. All these structures are essentially the same; but they exhibit a continuous modification of their shape, arrangement, size, and colour, according to their relative altitudes upon the stem. To discover the causes of this structural variation was an attractive problem, and very diverse theories were suggested for its solution. The earliest explanation, which was given by the Italian botanist Cesalpino in 1583, is founded rather on superficial analogies and remote resemblances existing between tissues than on careful observation. According to this theory the stem is composed of a central medulla highly endowed with vitality, and surrounded by concentric layers of tissue, those namely of the wood, the bast, and the cortex. Each of the foliar structures put forth from the axis is supposed to originate in one of the above-named tissues, the idea being that the green foliage- leaf and calyx grew out from the cortical layer, the corolla from the bast, the stamens from the wood, and the carpels from the medulla. It was believed, also, that the outer envelope of a fruit arose from the rind of the fruit-stalk, the seed- coats from the wood, and the central part of the seed from the medulla. Karly in the eighteenth century there came to be connected with this theory the doctrine of so-called “ prolepsis,’ which was founded on more accurate comparative observations. It was thought that the medulla of the stem breaks through the rind at particular spots to form at each a bud, which subsequently grows out into a side branch. Owing to this lateral pressure of the medulla the ascending nutrient sap becomes arrested beneath the rudimentary bud, and, in consequence, the cortex develops under the bud into a foliage-leaf. In the bud the different parts of the future annual shoot are already shadowed forth in stages one above the other; and each is produced always by the one beneath it. As soon as vegetative activity is resumed after the expiration of the winter rest, the bud sprouts. If only that part of it develops which constitutes the first year’s rudiment, a shoot furnished with foliage-leaves is produced. But the embryonic structures belonging to succeeding years, which are concealed in the bud, may also be stimulated to development; and when this happens, these premature products do not appear as foliage-leaves, but in more or less altered forms as bracts, sepals, petals, stamens, and carpels. If no such anticipatory activity has been excited, the rudiment which in the previous case would have developed into a bract does not appear till the following year, and then as a foliage-leaf; whilst that which would have formed a calyx in the first THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. 9 year lies dormant till the third year, when it too emerges simply as a leaf. This transformation of the leaves, or metamorphosis as Linneus called it, is, therefore, the result of anticipation; and it was assumed by the Linnzan school that the cause of this metamorphosis or hastened development was a local decrease in the quantity of nutriment. The idea was, that in consequence of the limited supply of sap the incipient leaves were not able to attain to the size of foliage-leaves, but remained Fig. 1.—Seedlings with Cotyledons and Foliage-leaves. 1Cytisus Laburnum. 2 Koelreuteria paniculata. 8 Acer platanoides. rudimentary, as is the case with many bracts; and further, that the axis was no longer capable of elongating, so that the leaves proceeding from it remained close together, became coherent, and thus formed the calyx. The supporters of this explanation relied particularly on the experience of gardeners, that a plant in good soil with a liberal supply of nutriment is apt to produce leafy shoots rather than flowers; whereas, if the same plant is transferred to a poorer soil, where its food is limited, it develops flowers in abundance. But yet a third attempt was made to explain this process of transformation, by the theory that parts which are identical so far as their origin is concerned, subse- quently receive the stamp of distinct foliar organs. The diversity in the develop- ment of parts, originally alike, was supposed to depend on a filtration of the nutrient 10 THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. sap, the idea being that identical primordial leaves issuing from the axis of a parti- cular plant were fashioned with more and more delicacy as the sap became clarified and refined in its passage through the vessels. This explanation of metamorphosis was first given by Goethe (1790) in a treatise which was much discussed, and which exercised a most important influence in initiating researches of a similar nature. Goethe’s interpretation of metamorphosis may be briefly reproduced as follows. A plant is built up gradually from a fundamental organ—the leaf—which issues from the node of astem. First of all, the organs which are called seed-leaves or cotyledons (tig. 1) develop on the young plant as it germinates from the seed; they proceed from the lowest node of the stem, and are frequently subterranean. They are of comparatively small size, are simple and unsegmented, have no trace of indentation, and appear for the most part as thick, whitish lobes, which are, according to Goethe’s expression, closely and uniformly packed with a raw material, and are only coarsely organized. Goethe explains these leaves as being of the lowest grade in the evolu- tionary scale. After them and above them the foliage leaves develop at the suc- ceeding nodes of the stem; they are more expanded both in length and breadth; their margins are often notched, and their surfaces divided into lobes, or even com- posed of secondary leaflets; and they are coloured green. “They have attained to a higher degree of development and refinement, for which they are indebted to the light and air.” Still further up, there next appears the third stage in foliar evolu- tion. The structure called by Linneus the calyx is again to be traced back to the leaf. It is a collection of individual organs of the same fundamental type, but modified in a characteristic manner. The close-set leaves, which proceed from nodes of the stem at what is, in a certain sense, the third story of the plant-edifice as a whole, and which constitute the calyx, are contracted, and have but little variety as compared with the outspread foliage-leaves. On the fourth rung of the ladder by which the leaf ascends in its effort to perfect itself, appears the structure named in the Linnzan terminology the corolla. It consists, like the calyx, only of several leaves grouped round a centre. If a con- traction has taken place in the case of the calyx, we have now once more an expan- sion. The leaves which compose the corolla are usually larger than those of the calyx. They are, besides, more delicate and tender, and are brightly coloured; and Goethe, whose mode of expression is here preserved as far as possible, supposes them to be filled also with purer and more subtle juices. He conceives that these juices are in some manner filtered in the lower leaves and in the vessels of the lower region of the stem, and so reach the upper stories in a more perfect condition. A more refined sap must then, he says, give rise to a softer and more delicate tissue (fig. 2). Above the corolla and at the fifth stage of development there follows the group of stamens, structures which, though not answering to the ordinary conception of leaves, are yet to be regarded again simply as such. In the circle of the corolla the leaves were expanded, and conspicuous owing to their colour; on the other hand, in the stamens they are contracted to an extreme degree, being almost fila- mentous in part. These leaves appear to have reached a high degree of perfection, THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. 11 and in the parts of the stamens termed anthers “ pollen-grains” are developed “in which an extremely pure sap is stored.” Adjoining these pollen-producing leaves, Fig. 2.—Metamorphoses of Leaves as exhibited by the Poppy. 1@erminating plant with cotyledons. 2 and 8 The same plant further developed and with foliage-leaves; in 8 the cotyledons and lowest foliage-leaves are already withered. 4 The same plant with a flower-bud showing the closed sepals. 5 The bud open and with petals, stamens, and carpels (pistil) developed. where contraction has reached its extreme limit, is the sixth and last story, which is composed of leaves, once more less closely-set, and exhibiting a final expansion on the part of the plant. These are the carpels, which surround the highest part 12 THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. of the stem and inclose the seeds, the latter being developed from the tip of the stem. Thus the plant accomplishes its life-history in six stages. It is built up of leaves, the “intrinsic identity” of which cannot be doubted, although they assume extremely various shapes corresponding to the six strides towards perfection. In this process of transformation or metamorphosis of the leaf there are three alter- nate contractions and expansions, whilst each stage is more perfect than the one next below it. Whilst seeking to explain metamorphosis in this manner, and endeavouring, with greater per- spicacity than all his predecessors and contem- poraries, “to reduce to one simple universal prin- ciple all the multifarious phenomena of the glorious garden of the world,” Goethe conceived the notion of a typical plant, an ideal, the realization of which is achieved in nature by means of a mani- fold variation of individual parts. This abstract notion of a plant’s development with its six stages corresponding to “three wave-crests” or expan- sions (Leaf, Petal, Carpel) and “three wave- troughs” or contractions (Cotyledon, Sepal, Sta- men) is expressed graphically in figure 3. It still holds its ground at the present day under the name of Goethe’s “ Urpflanze,” and the credit of its pretation and mode of representation of a pheno- menon already’ included by Linnewus under the term metamorphosis. Linneus had instituted a comparison between the metamorphosis of plants and that of insects; in particular, NN invention is entirely his. But it is not quite right A\N to claim for Goethe, in addition, the title of / if } \ founder of the doctrine of vegetable metamor- f 1 phosis; for in reality he only offered another inter- Fig. 3.—Goethe's “ Urpflanze.” he likened the calyx to the ruptured integument of a chrysalis and the internal parts of a flower to the perfect insect (Imago). He also made many different attempts to establish analogies between the development of plants and that of animals; and in so doing he opened up a wide field for the speculations of the “nature philosophers” in the earlier part of the nineteenth century. An extensive study of this subject now commenced; and writers on nature- philosophy worked indefatigably at the amplification and modification of this theme, first broathed by Linnzeus. “A plant is a magnetic needle attracted towards the light from the earth into the air. It is a galvanic bubble, and, as such, is earth, water, and air. The plant- bubble possesses two opposite extremities, a single terrestrial end and a dual aérial end; and so plants must be looked upon as being organisms which manifest a ‘THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. 13 continual struggle to become earth on the one hand and air on the other, unmixed metal at one end, and dual air at the other. A plant is a radius, which becomes single towards the centre, whilst it divides or unfolds towards the periphery; it is not therefore an entire circle or sphere, but only a segment of one of those figures. The individual animal, on the contrary, constitutes of itself a sphere, and is there- fore equivalent to all plants put together. Animals are entire worlds, satellites or moons, which circle independently round the earth; whereas plants are only equal to a heavenly body in their totality. An animal is an infinitude of plants. A blossom which, when severed from the stem, preserves by its own movement the galvanic process or life, is an animal. An animal is a flower-bubble set free from the earth and living alone in air and water by virtue of its own motion.” Page after page of the writings on Natwre-philosophy of Oken (1810) and other contemporary naturalists is filled with interminable statements of the same kind. At the present day it seems scarcely credible that such propositions were then received with admiration as profound and ingenious utterances, and that they were even adopted as mottoes for botanical and geological treatises. For example, it is worthy of record that as late as the year 1843 the Austrian botanist Unger made use of the last of the flowers of rhetoric above quoted from Oken’s Nature- philosophy as a motto for one of his first works on the history of development, the title of which is Plants at the Moment of their becoming Animals. The general divisions or systems of the vegetable kingdom which were evolved by adherents of the school of Nature-philosophy were, as may be imagined, just as absurd as the speculations on which they were based. In his Philosophical Systems of Plants Oken develops in the first place the idea that the vegetable kingdom is a single plant taken to pieces. Inasmuch as the ideal highest plant is composed of five organs, there must likewise be five classes: root-plants, stem-plants, leaf- _ plants, flower-plants, and fruit-plants. The world is fashioned out of the elements: earth, water, air, and fire. Hereupon is founded a classification of root-plants into earth-plants or lichens, water-plants or fungi, air-plants or mosses, and light-plants or ferns. Proceeding from the assumption that all the groups are parallel and that the principle of classification for each group is always given by the one preceding it, we have next, to take one instance, the second class—that of stem-plants— divided (in accordance with the subdivision of earth into earths, salts, bronzes, and ores) into earth-plants or grasses, salt-plants or lilies, bronze-plants or spices, and ore-plants or palms. SCIENTIFIC METHOD BASED ON THE HISTORY OF DEVELOPMENT. Though as we see the doctrine of metamorphosis, with its conception of a typical plant, degenerated thus into the most barren of fancies, still from it originated the line of research based on the history of development which has since borne fruit in every department of botany. Observers arrived at the conviction that every living plant undergoes a continuous transformation which follows a definite 14 THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. course, and that accordingly every species is constructed on a plan fixed within general limits and exhibiting variation in externals only. These, it is true, are often more conspicuous at first sight than the direction and disposition of the parts which are really fundamental, and secure the stability of the entire structure. But in order to ascertain the plan of construction it was found necessary to go back to the very first visible appearance of each organ; to determine how the original rudi- ments of the embryo and the beginnings of roots, stems, leaves, and parts of the flower are formed, and to see what rudiments succeed in opening out, branching and dividing, and what remain behind to perish and be displaced by organs growing vigorously in close proximity to them. These researches into the course of development of the separate parts of flower- ing plants, and to a still greater extent the observations of the development of eryptogams or spore-plants (rendered possible by improvements in the construction of microscopes), led naturally to a study of the history of the elementary structures of which all plants are composed. Previously three kinds of elementary organs had been supposed to exist, utricles, vessels, and fibres. The observations of Brown and Mohl (1830-1840) resulted, however, in the identification of the cell as the common starting-point of all these elementary organs. This led to the further discoveries that protoplasm is the formative and living part of a cell, and that each cell is differentiated into a protoplasmic cell-body and a cell-membrane. It followed that the envelope of the protoplasmic body, the cell-membrane, which had hitherto been considered the primary formation, was in reality a product of the protoplasm enveloped by it, and this discovery resulted in a complete revolution in the con- ception of cells generally. Further investigation led to the conclusion that the various modes of growth and multiplication depend on definite laws. That even in the mode of juxtaposition of daughter-cells arising in reproduction, a certain plan of construction may be distinguished in each species which must stand ultimately in some causal relation to the structural system of the whole plant. The progress achieved along these lines in the course of a few decades has been extraordinarily great, no doubt due to the peculiar fascination which the study of the life-histories and transformations of living organisms and the observation of mysterious processes invisible to the naked eye have had for the mind of the inquirer. In that group of plants which includes the forms classed together by the earlier botanists under the name of Cryptogamia an altogether new world was revealed. An undreamed-of variety was discovered to exist in the processes of propagation and rejuvenescence of these forms of plants by means of single cells or spores. Objects which, having regard to their external form, had been assigned to widely different groups, were found to be connected with one another as stages in the development of one and the same species; and one result of these discoveries was the establishment in this division of the vegetable kingdom of an entirely new system of classification based on life-histories. The systematic arrangement of Flowering-plants or Phanerogams also underwent essential alteration. The Linnezan system, founded on the numerical relations between the different parts of the flower, THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. 15 had indeed already been displaced by another method of classification, that of the French observers Jussieu (1789) and De Candolle (1813), who framed systems said to be natural when contrasted with the artificial system of Linneus. At bottom, however, these classifications only differed from the Linnean in the fact that they multiplied and widened the grounds of division. The main division of Phanero- gamia into those which put forth one cotyledon (or seed-leaf) on germinating (Monocotyledones) and those whose seedlings bear two cotyledons (Dicotyledones) is the only one that could serve as a starting-point for a system based on the history of development; but when we come to the grouping of Dicotyledones into those destitute of corolla (Apetalz), those with the corolla composed of coherent petals (Monopetalz), and those with the corolla composed of distinct petals (Dialy- petale), we have already to admit something forced, and a reliance on characteristics merely external. The system which is the outcome of the study of development starts with the idea that similarity between adult forms is not always decisive evidence of their belonging to the same group, and that the relationships of different plants is much more surely indicated by the fact of their exhibiting the same laws of growth and the same phenomena of reproduction. Plants exhibiting widely different external forms in the mature state are nevertheless to be looked upon as closely allied if they are constructed according to the same plan, and vice versd. There can be no question that a system based on these principles means a material advance. At the same time it cannot be overlooked that great difficulties are involved in hitting upon the right selection from among the number of phenomena observed in the course of a plant’s development, and in determining which of these phenomena are to be referred to a mode of construction common to a number of plants, and therefore treated as fundamental properties, and which should be esteemed merely as outcomes of the conditions of life affecting the existence of the plant in question. OBJECTS OF BOTANICAL RESEARCH AT THE PRESENT DAY. DerscriPTIVE Borany only concerns itself with the configuration of a plant. ComparRaTIVE MorpPHOLoGY endeavours to trace back to a single prototype the extremely various forms exhibited by mature plants. The history of development deals with the growth and differentiation of such forms. But all these paths of research shirk the problem of the biological significance of the different forms. The line of investigation starting from the conception of a plant's life as a series of physical and chemical processes, and which attempts to elucidate the configura- tion of a plant in the light of its environment, could not be developed with the slightest prospect of success until physics, chemistry, and other allied sciences had reached a high degree of perfection, and till botanists had become convinced that the phenomena of life are only to be fathomed by means of experiment. The earliest attempts to define the biological significance of the several parts of 16 THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. a plant do, it is true, take one back as far as Aristotle and his school; but the ideas of vegetable life entertained at that time are scarcely more than fantastic dreams; and the recognition now accorded to them springs rather from a reverence for antiquity than from any intrinsic merit which they possessed. The first experi- mental investigations into the vital phenomena of plants were published by Stephen Hales in 1718; but it was not till a hundred years later that this kind of research really came into vogue. It brought with it the conception of a cell as a miniature chemical laboratory, and looked for mechanical interpretations of the phenomena of nutrition, sap-circulation, growth, movement—in short, all vital processes—and for some connection between these processes and the external form. Whereas, in the case of descriptive and speculative botany, and in the study of development, the entire plant was first taken into consideration, next its several parts, and lastly the cells and protoplasm; in the new department of inquiry, on the contrary, the complete histories of the ultimate organs were studied first of all, then the significance of the different forms of the several members, and lastly the phenomena occasioned by the aggregate life of all the various kinds of animals and plants. Modern science, governed as it is by the desire to lay bare the causes of all phenomena, is no longer satisfied with knowledge concerning the existence of cells, the arrangement of the different forms of cell, the development of their contents, and the changes undergone by cell-membranes. At the present day we inquire what are the functions of the various bodies which are formed within the proto- plasm? Why is the cell-membrane thickened at a particular spot in a particular manner? What is the meaning of all the tubes and passages which exhibit such great diversity of size and shape? What part is played by the peculiar mouths of these channels, and why do they vary so greatly in shape and distribution in plants which are subject to different external conditions? We are no longer content to determine in what manner the rudimentary organ of a plant is produced, or how it expands in one case and frequently divides, or else is arrested in its growth and shrivels up; but we inquire the reason why one rudiment grows and develops whilst another is obliterated. For us no fact is without significance. Our curiosity extends to the shape, size, and direction of the roots; to the configuration, venation, and insertion of the leaves; to the structure and colour of the flowers; and to the form of the fruit and seeds; and we assume that even each thorn, prickle, or hair has a definite function to fulfil, But efforts are also made to explain the mutual relations of the different organs of a plant, and the relations between different species of plants which grow together. Lastly, this department of research (the rapid growth of which is due to Darwin) includes amongst its objects a solution of the problem of the ultimate grounds of morphological variety, the causes of which can only be sought for in a qualitative variation of protoplasm. Specific relationship is explained by attributing it to similarity in the constitution of the protoplasm of allied species, and the affinities exhibited by living and extinct plants are used as means of unfolding the hereditary connection between the THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. 17 thousands of different sorts of forms, and of tracing the history of plants and vegetable life all over the earth. The various lines of botanical research described in the foregoing pages, with their particular problems and objects, have but slight connection one with another. They run side by side along separate paths, and it is only occasionally that a junction is apparent which establishes a communication between one path and another. The subject-matter, however, is always the same. Whether we have to do with the perfected form or with its growth, whether we try to interpret the processes of life or to trace the genealogy of the vegetable kingdom, we always start from the forms of plants; and the ultimate result is never anything more than a description of the varying impressions which we receive at different times from the objects observed, and which we endeavour to bring into mutual connection. All the different departments of botany are accordingly more or less limited to description; and even when we endeavour to resolve vital phenomena into mechanical processes we can only describe, and not really explain, what happens. The processes which we call life are movements. But the causes of those move- ments, so-called forces, are purely subjective ideas, and do not involve the concep- tion of any actual fact, so that our passion for causality is only ostensibly gratified by the help of mechanics. Du Bois Reymond is not far wrong when he follows out this train of thought to the conclusion (however paradoxical it may sound) that there is no essential difference between describing the trajectory (or particular kind of curve) in which a projectile moves on the one hand, and describing a beetle or the leaf of a tree on the other. But even though the ultimate sources of vital phenomena remain unrevealed, the desire to represent all processes as effects, and to demonstrate the causes of such effects—a desire which is at the very root of modern research—finds at least partial gratification in tracing a phenomenon back to its proximate cause. In the mere act of linking ascertained facts together, and in the creation of ideas involv- ing interdependence among the phenomena observed, there lies an irresistible charm which is a continual stimulus to fresh investigations. Even though we be sure that we shall never be able to fathom the truth completely, we shall still go on seeking to approach it. The more imaginative an investigator the more keenly is he goaded to discovery by this craving for an explanation of things and for a solution of the mute riddle which is presented to us by the forms of plants. It is impossible to overrate the value and efficiency of the transcendent gift of imagination when applied to questions of Natural History. Thus when we inquire whether certain characters noted in a plant are hereditary, constant, and inalienable, or are only occasioned by local influences of climate or soil, and hence deduce whether the plant in question is to be looked upon as a species or a variety; when we conclude from the fact of a resemblance between the histories of the develop- ment of various species that they are related, and place them together in groups and series; when we unravel the genealogies of different plants by comparing forms still living with others that are extinct; when we try to Bepeceen clearly Vou. I 18 THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. the molecular structure of the cell-membrane by arguing from the phenomena manifested by that membrane; when we investigate the meaning of the peculiar thickenings and sculpturings of the walls of cells, or when we discover the strange forms of flowers and fruits to be mechanical contrivances adapted to the forms of certain animals, and judge the extent to which these contrivances are advan- tageous, or the reverse, to the plants—in all these and similar investigations imagination plays a predominant part. Experiment itself is really a result of the exercise of that faculty. Every experiment is a question addressed to nature. But each interrogation must be preceded by a conjecture as to the probable state of the case; and the object of the experiment is to decide which of the preliminary hypotheses is the right one, or at least which of them approaches nearest to the true solution. The fact that when the imagination has been allowed to soar unre- strained, or without the steadying ballast of actual observations, it has frequently led its followers into error, does not detract at all from its extreme value as an aid to research, notwithstanding the fact that it is responsible for the wonderful fantasies of nature-philosophy of which a few specimens have been given. Nor should we esteem it the less because enlargements of the field of observation and improvements in the instruments employed have again and again led to the sub- stitution of new ideas for those which careful observers and experimentalists had arrived at by collating the facts ascertained through their labours. For the same reasons it is unfair to regard with contempt the ideas of plant- life formed by our predecessors. It should never be forgotten how much smaller was the number of observations upon which botanists had to rely in former times, and how much less perfect were their instruments of research. Every one of our theories has its history. In the first place a few puzzling facts are observed, and gradually others come to be associated with them. A general survey of the phenomena in question suggests the existence of a definite uniformity underlying them; and attempts are made to grasp the nature of such uniformity and to define it in words. Whilst the question thus raised is in suspense, botanists strive with more or less success to answer it, until a master mind appears. He collates the observed facts, gathers from them the law of their harmony, generalizes it, and announces the solution of the enigma. But observations continue to multiply; scientific instruments become more delicate, and some of the newly-observed facts will not adapt themselves to the scheme of the earlier generalization. At first they are held to be exceptions to the rule. By degrees, however, these exceptions accumulate; the law has lost its universality and must undergo expansion, or else it has become quite obsolete and must be replaced by another. So it has been in all past times, and so will it be in the future. Only a narrow mind is capable of claiming infallibility and permanence for the ideas which the present age lays down as laws of nature. These remarks on the limitations of our knowledge of nature, the importance of imagination as an aid in research, and the variability of our theories are made with a view to moderate, on the one hand, the exuberant hopes raised by the belief THE STUDY OF PLANTS IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES. 19 that the great questions connected with the phenomenon of life will be solved, and to correct, on the other, the habit of not appreciating impartially the various methods which have been and are still employed by different botanists. In our own time, adhering as we do to the principle of the division of labour, it has become almost universal for each investigator to advance only along a single, very narrow path. But owing to the fact that one-sidedness too often leads to self-conceit, the lines of study followed by others are not infrequently despised, just as overweening confidence in the infallibility of the discoveries of the present day leads to deprecia- tion of the labours of former times. For the building-up of the science of the Biology of Plants everything relating to the subject has its value, and is capable of being turned to account. Whether the materials are rough or elaborated, massive, fragmentary, or merely connective, howsoever and whensoever they have been acquired, they all are useful. The study of dried plants made by a student in a provincial museum, the discoveries of an amateur regarding the flora of a sequestered valley, the contributions of horticul- turalists on subjects of experiment, the facts gleaned by farmers and foresters in fields and woods, the disclosures which have been wrested from living plants in university laboratories, and the observations conducted in the greatest and best of all laboratories—that of Nature herself—all these results should be turned to account. Let us take for the motte of the following pages the text: “Prove all things; hold fast that which is good.” THE LIVING PRINCIPLE IN PLANTS. 1, PROTOPLASTS CONSIDERED AS THE SEAT OF LIFE. Discovery of the Cell.—Discovery of Protoplasm. DISCOVERY OF THE CELL. What is life? This ever-interesting question has seemed to approach nearer solution on the occasion of every great scientific discovery. But never did the hope of being able to penetrate the great secret of life appear better founded than at the time when, among other memorable developments of science, it was discovered that objects could be rendered visible on an enlarged scale by the use of glass lenses, and the microscope was invented. These magnifying glasses were expected to yield, not only an insight into the minute structure of living beings which is invisible to the naked eye, but also revelations concerning the processes which constitute life in plants and animals. The first discoveries made with the microscope, between 1665 and 1700, produced a profound impression on the observers. The Dutch philosopher Swammerdam became almost insane at the marvels revealed by his lenses, and at last destroyed his notes, having come to the conclusion that it was sacrilege to unveil, and thereby profane, what was designed by the Creator to remain hidden from human ken. The observations of Leeuwenhoek (1632-1723) with magnifying glasses formed by melting fine glass threads in a lamp, were for a long time held to be delusions; and it was not till the English observer Robert Hooke had confirmed the fact of the existence of the minute organisms seen by Leeuwenhoek in infusions of pepper, and had exhibited them under his microscope in 1667 at a meeting of the Royal Society in London, that doubts as to their actual existence disappeared. Indeed a special document was then drawn up and signed by all those who were satisfied, on the evidence of their own eyesight, of the accu- racy of the observation; and this clearly shows how greatly people were impressed with the importance of these discoveries. Of the different forms of the tiny organisms, amounting to nearly four hundred, which were at that time distinguished, and all included under the name Infusoria, because first seen in infusions of pepper- corns, some only are at the present day reckoned as animals. In many cases it has been ascertained that they are the spores of plants, whilst others again belong to the boundary-land where the animal and vegetable kingdoms are merged. The presence or absence of movement used to be considered as the most decisive mark of the difference between animals and plants, and, accordingly, all the minute a 22 DISCOVERY OF THE CELL. beings which were seen bustling about in watery media were described and labelled as animals. No movement was found in the higher plants which were studied with the microscope about the same time by Dutch, Italian, and English observers, but, on the other hand, these investigations led to a recognition of the quite special peculiarities of such structures as leaves and stem, wood and pith. These parts of plants appeared under the microscope like honey-combs, which are built up of a oy eee: ene | es il, a Fig. 4—Vegetable Cells (from Grew’s Anatomy of Plants). 1 Longitudinal section through a young apricot seed. 2 Transverse section of the petiole of the Wild Clary. 8 Transverse section of a pine branch. great number of cells, some empty and some full of honey. From this similarity the term “cell” arose, which later was to play so important a part in botany. In the drawings of parts of plants as seen under the microscope the resemblance to a honey-comb is very apparent; indeed, it is sometimes rather more striking than when seen in reality, as, for instance, is the case in the above reproduction of three engravings from Nehemiah Grew’s fine work published in London, 1672. It was also noticed that, besides the structures which resembled honey-comb, there were little tubes and fibres which were distributed and aggregated in very various ways, and were bound up together into strands and membranes, and into pith and wood; further, all these things were seen to increase in size and number in the growing DISCOVERY OF THE CELL. 23. parts of plants. How growth and multiplication took place, and where exactly the seat of a plant’s life lay, remained, of course, obscure. It was, however, natural to. assume that the walls of these small cells constituted the essential part and living substance of plants, that they drew materials from the fluids which rose by suction in the tubes, and so increased in size and were renewed. It was as yet hardly suspected that the slimy substance which filled the cells. of a plant, like honey in a honey-comb, was the basis of life. The observation made again and again at the beginning of the nineteenth century, that the cell-contents. of certain algz are extruded in the form of globules of jelly, and that each globule moves independently and swims about in the water for a time, but then comes to. rest and becomes the starting-point of a new alga, might undoubtedly have led to this conclusion. The accounts of these occurrences were, however, considered incredible by the majority of contemporary observers; and it was not till recently, when Unger established the phenomenon as an indubitable fact, that a proper estimation of its value was accorded. In the year 1826 this botanist investigated under the microscope a water-weed found at Ottakrinn, near Vienna, which had. been described by systematic writers as an Alga, and named Vawucheria clavata. To the naked eye it appears like a dense plexus of dark-green irregularly branched and matted filaments. These filaments, when magnified, are seen to be tubular cells. which wither and die away at the base whilst growing at the apex, and developing sac-like branches laterally. (Fig. 254.) The free ends of these tubes are blunt and rounded. The substance they contain is slimy, and, though itself colourless, is. studded throughout with green granules; whilst near the blunt end of each filament these green particles are so closely packed that the entire contents of that part appear of a dark-green colour. Now, there comes a time in the life of every one of these filaments when its. extremity swells and becomes more or less club-shaped. The moment this occurs,. the dark-green contents withdraw somewhat from the extremity, leaving it hyaline and transparent. Almost simultaneously the contents of the swollen part of the tube nearest the apex become transparent, whilst further down the colour becomes. very dark. (Figure 254,a.) Twelve hours after the commencement of this change, that portion of the tube’s contents which occupies the club-shaped end separates. itself entirely from the rest. A little later, the cell-wall at the apex of the tube suddenly splits, the edges of the slit fold back, and the inclosed mass travels. through the aperture (fig. c). This jelly-like ball, having a greater diameter than. the hole, is at first strangulated as it struggles forward, so that it assumes the shape- of an hour-glass and looks for an instant as if it would remain stuck fast. There now arises, however, in the entire mass of green jelly an abrupt movement of rotation combined with forward straining, and in another instant it has escaped through the narrow aperture and is swimming freely about in the surrounding water (fig. d). The entire phenomenon of the escape of these bodies takes place between 8 and 9 a.M., and, in any one case, in less than two minutes. When free, each individual assumes the shape of a perfectly regular ellipsoid (fig. d), having 24 DISCOVERY OF THE CELL. one pole of a lighter green than the other; it moves always in the direction of the former, so that the lighter end may be properly designated the anterior. At first the ball rises to the surface of the water towards the light, but soon after it again sinks deep down, often turning suddenly half-way round and pursues for a time a horizontal course. In all these movements it avoids coming into collision with the stationary objects which lie in its path, and also carefully eludes all the creatures swimming about in the same water with it. The motion is effected by short pro- cesses like lashes or “cilia,” which protrude all round from the enveloping pellicle of the jelly-like body and are in active vibration. With the help of these cilia, which occasion by their action little eddies in the water, the whole ball of green jelly moves in any given direction with considerable rapidity. But at the same time as it pushes forward, the ellipsoid turns on its longer axis, so that the resultant motion is obviously that of a screw. It is worthy of note that this rotation is invariably from east to west, that is, in the direction opposed to that of the earth. The rate of progress is always about the same: a layer of water of not quite two centimetres (1°76 cm.) is traversed in one minute. Now and then, it is true, the swimming ellipsoid allows itself a short rest; but it begins again almost immediately, rising and sinking, and resumes its movements of rotation and vibration. Two hours after its escape the movements become perceptibly feebler, and the pauses, during which there is only rotation and no forward motion of the body, become both longer and more frequent. At length the swimmer attains permanent rest. He lands on some place or other, preferably on the shady side of any object that may be floating or stationary in the water. The axial rotation ceases, the cilia stop their lashing motion aud are withdrawn into the substance of the body, and the whole organism, hitherto ellip- soidal and lighter at its anterior end, becomes spherical and of a uniform dark- green colour. So long as it is in motion the gelatinous body has no definite wall. Its outermost layer is, no doubt, denser than the rest; but no distinct boundary is to be recognized, and we cannot properly speak of a special enveloping coat. No sooner, however, is the ball stranded, no sooner has its movement ceased and its shape become spherical, than a substance is secreted at its periphery; and this substance, even at the moment of secretion, takes the form of a firm, colourless, and transparent membrane. Twenty-six hours afterwards, very short branched tubes begin to push out from the interior, and these become organs of attachment. In the opposite direction the cell stretches into a long tube which divides into branches and floats on the water. After fourteen days the free ends of this tube and of its branches swell once more and become club-shaped; a portion of their slimy contents is, as before, separated from the rest and liberated as a motile body, and the whole performance described above is repeated. DISCOVERY OF PROTOPLASM. 25 DISCOVERY OF PROTOPLASM. The study of Vaucheria led, then, to the discovery that there are plants which, in the course of their development, pass through a motile stage, propelling them- selves about the water as tiny balls of jelly with ciliary processes, and giving exactly the same impression as infusoria. Hand in hand with this discovery went the further observation that a portion of the plastie cell-contents in all plants lies, like a lining, in contact with the inner face of the cell-walls, so that we find that these latter, at a certain stage of maturity, are made up of two layers lying close Fig. 5.—Protoplasm inclosed in Cells. 1 Protoplasm in cells of Orobanche. 2% Streaming protoplasm in cells of Vallisneria. % Streaming protoplasm in cells of Hlodea. together, the outer one firm and the inner soft. The name of “primordial utricle” was given to this inner layer. On further investigation it turned out that this primordial utricle belongs to a body of gelatinous, slimy consistency which lives in the cell-cavity like a mussel or a snail in its shell. At first it is shapeless and fills the whole cavity with what appears to be a homogeneous mass; but later on it is differentiated into a number of easily- recognizable parts—ie. into the above- mentioned lining towards the inner surface of the cell-membrane, and into folds, strands, threads, and plates stretching across the interior of the cell. (See fig. 5.) Mohl of Tiibingen, the discoverer of these facts, applied in 1846 the name of proto- plasm to the substance of which the cell-contents are composed. It is possible for protoplasm, under certain conditions, to exist for a time without any special protective envelope; but, as a general rule, it secretes at once a firm, 26 DISCOVERY OF PROTOPLASM. continuous coat, and, so to speak, builds itself a little chamber wherein to live. We may therefore distinguish naked protoplasm from that kind which inhabits the interior of a cell of its own creation, and compare the former to a shell-less snail, and the latter to a snail that constructs the house in which its life is spent. Still better may we compare the firm and solid cell-membrane with which the protoplasm clothes itself to a protective coat, a garment fitted to the body; and, following out this analogy, the protoplasm must be designated the living entity in the cell, and the secreted envelope must be considered as merely the skin of the cell. Conse- quently, although this cell-wall was the part which was first revealed by magni- fying glasses, and was called a cell on account of its form, this is not the essential formative element, which has the power of nourishing and reproducing itself. It is the body within the cell, the slimy, colourless protoplasm in full activity within the surrounding membrane made by itself, which must be taken to be the essential part of the cell and the basis of life. The term cell had become so naturalized in the science that protoplasm which had escaped from a cell-cavity was also called a cell, and the unfortunate name of “naked cell” was brought into use to designate it. More recently many of these older designations have been abandoned as unsuitable. We now include under the term “protoplasts” all these individual organisms, consisting of protoplasm, which occupy little chambers made by themselves, living either alone like hermits or side by side in sociable alliance in more or less extensive structures, able under certain circumstances to leave their domiciles, laying aside their envelopes and swimming about as naked globules. Only when the protoplasts live in innumerable little cavities congregated close together in colonies, and when these cavities are bounded by even walls and are for the most part uniformly developed in all directions, does the part of a plant com- posed of them look under the microscope like a honey-comb, and each cavity like a cell. But even in these cases of external similarity there is the essential difference that in a honey-comb each of the walls separating individual cells is common to both the adjacent spaces, and, accordingly, the cells of the comb are like excavations in a continuous matrix; whereas, in sections of cellular plants, every cell possesses its own particular and independent wall, so that in them every partition-wall between neighbouring cavities is composed, properly speaking, of two layers (fig. 6). These two layers are scarcely distinguishable in the case of delicate cell-membranes newly secreted by the protoplasts. Later on, however, they are always to be made out clearly (fig. 62). Frequently the layers separate one from another at certain spots, and thus channels are formed between the cells (fig. 6 +); these are called “ inter- cellular spaces.” One often sees cells, too, whose entire surfaces are, as it were, glued together with a kind of cement, and then this substance which is stored between the two layers is called “intercellular substance” (fig. 6°). By loosening the intercellular substance, where present, by mechanical or chemi- cal means, we can easily separate adjacent cells from one another; the two layers of the partitioning cell-walls come asunder, and then each separate cell exhibits a DISCOVERY OF PROTOPLASM. 27 complete envelope. The individual cell-cavities are often elongated and shaped like either rigid or flexible tubes; or the wall of such a cavity may become very thick and encroach to such an extent on the cavity that the latter is scarcely recognizable. Cells of this kind look like fibres and threads, groups of them look like bundles and strands, and do not resemble even remotely the cells of a honey-comb. The term “cellular” is hence no longer suitable in the case of these structures. The expression “cellular tissue” is calculated also to occasion a wrong idea of the grouping and connection of the single cell-cavities. By a tissue one would surely understand a collection of thread-like elements so arranged that some of the threads run parallel to one another in one direction, whilst similar threads crossing Fig. 6.—Cell-chambers. Showing Intercellular Spaces (1 and 2) and “Intercellular Substance” (8) in the Partition-walls of the Chambers. the first at right angles are interwoven with them. In such a tissue, as of woven silk or the web of a spider, the threads are held together by intertwining; but this is by no means the case with the collections of cells which have been called cell- tissues. Even where the parts of a so-called tissue of cells are tubular, thread-like, or fibrous, they lie side by side and are joined as it were by a cement, but are never crossed or twisted together like the threads in a woven fabric. Again, cells have been compared to the bricks of a building, but this analogy is not exact. The process of formation of a cubical crystal from a solution of common salt may perhaps be compared to the piling up of bricks; but when a leaf grows the process is not for one layer of cells to be superimposed from the outside upon another previously deposited. The development of new cells proceeds in the inside of exist- ing cells and ensues from the activity of the protoplasts inclosed within the cell- walls; and these protoplasts not only provide the building materials, but are them- selves the builders. It is in this very fact indeed that we grasp the sole distinction between organic and inorganic structures, and on this account especially the above analogy is inadmissible and should be avoided. Cells and cell-aggregates may be conceived most clearly by considering their analogy to the shells of living creatures, as we have already done more than once in the foregoing pages. Protoplasts are either solitary, inhabiting isolated cell-cavities; or else they live in associated groups, the cells being crowded close together in great numbers and firmly attached to one another—each cavity being inhabited by one such protoplast. When the latter is the case, division of labour usually takes place 28 SWIMMING AND CREEPING PROTOPLASTS. in a plant, so that, as in every other community, some of the members undertake one function, some another. The older cells in these plants often lose their living protoplasts, and then, for the most part, serve as an uninhabited foundation to the entire edifice, which may thus be penetrated by air and water channels. The proto- plasts have meanwhile erected new stories for themselves and their posterity on the old deserted foundations, and are pursuing their indefatigable labours in the little chambers of these upper stories. This work of the living protoplasts consists in absorbing nutriment, increasing their own substance, maturing offspring, searching for the places which offer most favourable conditions with a view to an eventual transmigration and to colonization by their families; and lastly, securing the region where all these tasks are performed against injurious external influences. The sequence of these labours is always governed by conditions of time and piace. Many of them are only to be observed with difficulty in their actual performance and are first recognized in their perfected products, while others are attended by very striking phenomena and are easily followed in their progress. 2. MOVEMENTS OF PROTOPLASTS. Swimming and creeping protoplasts.—Movements of protoplasm in cell-cavities.—Movements of Volvocinese, Diatomacez, Oscillariz, and Bacteria. SWIMMING AND CREEPING PROTOPLASTS. Among the most striking phenomena observed in connection with living proto- plasts are, without question, the temporary locomotion of the protoplast as a whole and the displacement and investment of its several particles. The freest motion is of course exhibited by protoplasts which are not inclosed in cell-cavities, but have forsaken their dwelling and are wandering about in liquid media. Their number, as well as the variety of their forms, is extremely great. These naked protoplasts are evolved by several thousands of kinds of cryptogamic plants, at the moment of sexual or asexual reproduction in these plants. The escape from the enveloping cell-wall alone takes place in countless different ways, though the process, as a whole, is conducted in the manner already described in the case of Vaucheria clavata. Sometimes a single comparatively large protoplast glides out of the opened cell by itself; at other times, before the cell opens the protoplasmic body divides into several parts—often into a great number—and then a whole swarm of protoplasts struggle out. These swarming protoplasts differ considerably in form. Usually their outline is almost ellipsoidal or oval; but pear-shaped, top-shaped, and spindle-shaped forms also occur. Often the body of the protoplast is spirally twisted like a corkscrew, and has in addition one end spatulate or clavate. Thread-like processes, definite in number and dimensions and arranged variously, according to the kind of protoplast, SWIMMING AND CREEPING PROTOPLASTS, 29 project from the surface of its body. In some instances the whole surface is thickly covered with short cilia, as in Vawcheria (fig. 71); in others the cilia form a close ring behind the conical or beak-like end of the pear-shaped body, as in Edogonium (fig. 77); and in others again, one or two pairs of long and infinitesimally thin threads, like the antennz of a butterfly, proceed from some spot, generally the narrow end (fig. 7° and 7*). Many forms are provided with a single long lash or flagellum at one extremity (fig. 7’), and yet others are spirally wound and are beset with cilia, thus presenting a bristly or hirsute appearance (fig. 7"). These ciliary processes have a combined lashing and rotatory motion, and by their means the protoplasts swim about in water. In many cases, however, swim- Fig. 7.—Swimming Protoplasm. 1 Vaucheria; 2 Eidogonium; § Draparnaldia; 4 Coleochete; 5and7 Botrydium; 6 Ulothrix; ® Fucus; ® Funaria; 10 Sphagnum; 1 Adiantum, ming is hardly an appropriate expression; certainly not if one associates the term with the idea of fishes swimming with fins. In point of fact there is, associated with progression in a particular direction, a continuous rotation of the protoplast round its longer axis, and on this account its motion may be compared to that of a rifle-bullet, since in both cases the movement of translation takes place in the direction of the axis round which the whole body spins. The movement in question is not unlike the boring of one body inside another; according to this, the soft protoplasts bore through the yielding water, and by this action make onward progress. The microscope magnifies not only the moving body, but also the path traversed; and when one contemplates a protoplast in motion, magnified, say, three hundred times, its speed appears to be three hundred times as fast as it really is. As a matter of fact, the motion of protoplasts is rather slow. The swarm-spores of Vaucheria, described above, which traverse a distance of 17 millimeters in a minute are amongst the fastest. The majority accomplish an advance of not more than 5 m.m., and many only 1 mm. per minute. 30 SWIMMING AND CREEPING PROTOPLASTS. As was mentioned in the description of Vaucheria the locomotion of ciliated protoplasts lasts for a comparatively brief period. It gives the impression of being a journey with a purpose: a search, as it were, for favourable spots for settle- ment and further development; or else a hunt after other protoplasts moving about in the same liquid. Green protoplasts always begin by seeking the light, but after a time they swim back into the shadier depths. Many of these, especially the larger ones, avoid coming into collision, and are careful to give each other a wide berth. If numbers are crowded together in a confined space, and two collide or their cilia come into contact, the motion ceases for an instant, but in a few seconds they free themselves and retire in opposite directions. Contrasting with these unsociable protoplasts are others, which have a ten- dency to seek each other out and to unite; and protoplasm acts in many cases on protoplasm of identical or similar quality, perceptibly attracting it and deter- mining the direction of its motion. It is very curious to watch the tiny pear- shaped whirling protoplasts of Draparnaldia, Ulothrix, Botrydium, and many others, as they steer towards one another and, upon their ciliated ends coming into contact, turn over and lay themselves side by side (fig. 7°); or, to see one pursued and seized by another, the foreparts of their bodies brought into lateral contact, and, finally, the two, after swimming about paired for a few minutes, fusing together into a single oval or spherical protoplast (fig. 7°). Even the minute fusiform protoplasts which are moved by cilia proceeding from the sides of their bodies (fig. 7°), as well as the spirally-coiled forms (figs. 7% 1") endeavour to unite with some other protoplast. They always move towards larger protoplasmic bodies at rest, cling to them closely, and at last coalesce with them into single masses (fig. 7 §). As a rule no striking change is to be perceived in the inside of motile proto- plasmic bodies during the rotatory and progressive motion caused by their cilia; and the granules and chlorophyll-corpuscles dotted about in the body of the protoplast seem to remain, throughout the period of locomotion, almost unchanged as regards both position and shape. It is only in the vicinity of certain little spaces, called “vacuoles,” in the substance of the protoplasm, that changes in many instances are observed, which indicate that, during the motion of the whole apparently rigid mass, slight displacements may also occur in the interior, some- what in the same way as, when a man walks, the heart inside his body is not still (relatively to the body), but continues to pulsate and cause the blood to circulate. The changes observed in vacuoles have, moreover, been described as pulsations, because they are accomplished rhythmically and manifest themselves as alternate expansions and contractions of the vacant space. In each of the motile protoplasts of Ulothria (fig. 8) there is found, near the conical end, which is furnished with four cilia, a vacuole which contracts in from 12 to 15 seconds, and dilates again in the succeeding 12 or 15 seconds. In the swarm-spores of Chlamydomonas and those of Draparnaldia two such vacuoles may be observed close together, whose rhythmic action is alternate, so that the SWIMMING AND CREEPING PROTOPLASTS. 31 systole (contraction) of the one always takes place synchronously with the diastole (expansion) of the other. The contraction often continues until the cavity entirely disappears. It must depend, as also does the expansion, on a displacement of that part of the protoplasm which immediately surrounds the vacuole. But such a motion as this in the protoplasmic substance, even if only visible in a small part of the whole body, can scarcely be without its effect on other more distant parts; and it may, therefore, be concluded that the interior of a protoplast, endowed with ciliary motion, rotatory and progressive, does not remain quite at rest relatively, aS seems On cursory inspection to be the case. Protoplasts whose motion is effected by means of cilia have no more need of their vibratile organs when once they have reached their destination. The cilia, Fig. 8.—Pulsating Vacuoles in the Protoplasm of the large Swarm-spores of Ulothriz. whether numerous or solitary, whether short or long, first of all become stationary and then suddenly disappear. Either they are drawn in or else they deliquesce into the surrounding liquid. Whether the motile protoplasts have come to rest because they have reached a suitable place for further development, as happens in Vaucheria, or because they have united, like with like, into a single mass, the form taken by the resulting non-motile body is always spherical. The final act is the development around itself of an investing cell-membrane, so that its soft and slimy substance may be protected by a firm covering from external influences. Essentially different from the motion just described is that of certain proto- plasts which are unprovided with cilia, but perpetually change their outlines, thrusting out considerable portions of their gelatinous bodies in one direction or another, and at the same time drawing in other parts. At one moment they appear irregularly angular, shortly afterwards stellate; then, again, they elongate, become fusiform, and gradually almost round (fig. 9). The protruded parts are sometimes delicate, tapering off into mere threads; sometimes they are com- paratively thick, and have almost the appearance of arms and feet in relation to the principal mass. The motion is not in this case like boring, but is best described as creeping. As one or a pair of foot-like appendages is thrown out 32 MOVEMENTS OF PROTOPLASM IN CELL-CAVITIES. in one direction, others on the opposite side are retracted, and the protoplast as a whole glides over the intervening space like a snail without its shell. The analogy is all the more exact since the protoplast, as it glides onward, leaves a slimy trail in its wake, so that the latter is marked by a streak resembling the track of a snail, When two or more of these creeping protoplasts, or plasmodia, meet, they merge into one another, flowing together somewhat in the same way as two oil-drops on water coalesce into one—leaving no distinguishable boundaries between the united bodies. Thus, slimy lumps of protoplasm, which may attain to the dimensions of a closed or open hand, result from the coalescence of great numbers of minute protoplasts. And it is a very remarkable fact that these plasmodia can themselves change their form, putting out lobes and threads, and Fig. 9.—Creeping Protoplasm. creeping about in the same way as the single protoplasts from whose fusion they have arisen. Creeping masses of jelly sometimes move in the direction of incident light; at other times they avoid light and hide in obscure places, wriggling through the interstices of heaps of bark or into the hollows of rotten trunks; or they may creep up the stems of plants, or glide over the brown earth in a viscous condition. On these occasions they resolve themselves not infrequently into bands, cords, and threads, which surround fixed objects, divide, and combine again, forming a net-work of meshes, or else perhaps frothy lumps like cuckoo-spit. If foreign bodies of small size are enmeshed by the viscous threads of the reticulum, they may be drawn along by the protoplasm as it creeps; and if they contain nutritive material, they may be eaten up and absorbed. Plasmodia are, for the most part, colourless, but some are brightly tinted; in particular may be mentioned the best-known of all plasmoid fungi, the so-called “Flowers of Tan” (Fuligo varians), which are yellow, and Lycogala Epidendron, which comes out on old stumps of pines, and is vermilion in colour. MOVEMENTS OF PROTOPLASM IN CELL-CAVITIES. In the case of a protoplast which is not naked, but clothed with an attached cell-membrane, the movements are limited to the space included by the membrane, that is to say to the cell-cavity. Until the protoplasmic cell-body is differentiated into distinct individual portions no very lively motion can in general take place in the coated protoplast, though it is not to be assumed that it abides completely MOVEMENTS OF PROTOPLASM IN CELL-CAVITIES. 33 at rest at any time, except perhaps during periods of drought in summer and of frost in winter, and in seeds during their time of quiescence. This applies par- ticularly to immature cells. In them the protoplast forms a solid body whose substance entirely fills the cell-cavity. The young cell, however, grows up quickly, its cavity is enlarged, and the space, hitherto filled by the protoplast, becomes two or three times as large as before. But the increase of volume on the part of the protoplast itself does not keep pace with the enlargement of its habitation. It is true that it continues to cling closely to the inner face of the cell-wall, thus forming the primordial utricle; but the more central part of its body relaxes, and in it are formed vacant spaces, the vacuoles above mentioned, wherein collects a watery fluid known as the “cell-sap.” The portions of protoplasm which lie between the vacuoles resolve themselves gradually into thin partitions bounding them; and lastly, these partitions split up into bands, bridles, and threads, which stretch across the cell-cavity from one side of the primordial utricle to the other, and are woven together here and there where they intersect. With these protoplasmic’strands we have already become acquainted. But the protoplasm in the interior of a growing cell, whilst relaxing and breaking up, also becomes motile if the liquid attains a certain temperature, and then the appearance presented is like that of a lump of wax melting under the action of heat. These movements may be observed very clearly under the micro- scope in the case of large cells with thin and very transparent cell-membranes, especially when the colourless, translucent, and gelatinous substance of the proto- plasm—not always sharply defined in contour—happens to be studded with minute dark granules, the so-called “microsomata,’” These granules are driven backwards and forwards with the stream, like particles of mud in turbid water, and their motion reveals that of the protoplasm wherein they are embedded. Seeing particles gliding in all directions through the cell-cavity, arranged irregularly in chains, rows, and clusters in the protoplasmic strands, we are justified in concluding that this motion takes place in the substance of the strands itself. The movement, moreover, is not confined to isolated strands, but occurs in all. Granular currents flow hither and thither, now uniting, now again dividing. They often run in opposite directions even when only a trifling distance apart; sometimes two chains are drifted in this way when actually close together in the same band of proto- plasm. The streams pour along the primordial utricle and whilst there divide into a number of arms, meeting and stemming one another and forming little eddies; then they are gathered together again and turn into another strand of the more central protoplasm. The individual granules in the currents are seen to move with unequal rapidity according to their sizes; the smaller particles progress faster than the larger, and the larger are often overtaken by the less, and when this happens the result often is that the entire stream stops. If so, however, the crowded particles are suddenly rolled forward again at a swifter pace, like bits of stone in the bed of a river as it passes from a level valley into a gorge. The course of the streaming protoplasm remains throughout sharply marked off from the eatery sap Vou. I. 34 MOVEMENTS OF PROTOPLASM IN CELL-CAVITIES. in the vacuoles, and none of the granules ever pass over into the cell-sap from the protoplasm. Larger bodies, such as the round grains of green colouring-matter or chlorophyll, are in many instances not carried forward, but remain stationary, the protoplasmic stream gliding over them without altering them in any way. Further, the outer- most layer of the protoplast, contiguous with the cell-membrane, is not in visible motion in most vegetable cells. On the other hand, occasionally the entire pro- toplast undoubtedly acquires a movement of rotation, and then the larger bodies imbedded in its substance, z.e. chlorophyll corpuscles, are driven along like drift- wood in a mountain torrent (fig. 5? and 5°). On these occasions a wonderful circulation and undulation of the entire mass takes place: chlorophyll grains are whirled along one after the other at varying speeds as if trying to overtake one another; and yet another structure, the cell-nucleus presently to be discussed, is dragged along, being unable to withstand the pressure, and, following the various displacements of the net-work of protoplasmic strands in which it is involved, is at one moment pulled alongside of the cell-wall, at another again is taken in tow by a rope of central protoplasm and hauled transversely across the interior of the cell (fig. 53), When the rate of the current itself is estimated by the pace at which the gran- ules are driven along, results which vary considerably are obtained, depending chiefly on a qualitative difference in the protoplasm, but secondarily also on temperature and other external conditions. A rise in temperature up to a certain point as a general rule accelerates the rate of the stream. Particles of protoplasm in particularly rapid motion pass over 10 m.m. in a minute; others in the same time traverse from 1 to 2 mm; and some, in still less haste, advance only about a hundredth part of a millimeter. Larger bodies, especially the bigger chlorophyll grains, move slowest of all. So it is often hours before chlorophyll grains lying near one side of a cell are pushed through the protoplasm over to the other side, a distance only equal to a small fraction of a millimeter. The minute granules, as well as the larger grains of chlorophyll and the cell- nucleus, are entirely surrounded by protoplasm; and the protoplasm, whether in the form of bands or threads, whether a peripheral lining or an indefinite mass, must be conceived as always composed of two layers, the outer “ectoplasm” being tougher and denser than the inner “endoplasm,” which is softer and somewhat fluid. The former is homogeneous and non-granular, so that it is the more transparent and has the effect of a skin clothing the inner, softer layer, which is granular and turbid. It would be incorrect, however, to think of this as a very strongly-marked contrast, sufficient to mark off one layer clearly from the other. In reality there are no such sharp boundaries, and the tougher ectoplasm passes gradually into the softer and more mobile endoplasm. Of course the granules and corpuscles which one sees drifting in streaming protoplasm are situated within the more yielding endoplasm. It is true, minute particles often appear to glide from one side to the other upon a delicate protoplasmic strand as if it were a tight-rope; but on closer MOVEMENTS OF PROTOPLASM IN CELL-CAVITIES. 35 study it is apparent that the granules which seem to be travelling on the proto- plasmic thread are covered by a delicate and transparent protoplasmic pellicle. Thus, these granules imbedded in the substance of protoplasts have no independent motion, but are pushed along by the spreading protoplasm. Each stream of protoplasm is shut off from its environment and limited by a layer tougher than the rest. But this does not prevent the currents, with their crowds of drifting granules, from changing their direction. In fact we have only to follow for a short time the course of one such granular stream to remark a continuous series of changes: a current from being in a straight line bends suddenly to one side, it broadens and contracts again, now it runs close alongside another channel, now breaks away once more, divides into two little arms, and loses itself finally in the primordial utricle. On the other hand, fresh folds start from the primordial utricle, stretch and grow until they have pushed across the cell-cavity to the other side in the form of bands, or the protoplasm may be drawn out into threads, which elongate until they encounter other similar strings and form a junction with them. The same processes then that are observed in free creeping protoplasts take place to some extent here. Imagine a protoplast captured whilst on its travels—creeping along the level ground—and imprisoned in a completely closed vessel; it would spread itself out over the inner surface of the vessel, would branch and creep about and have just the same appearance as the protoplasts, just described, which inhabit cell-cavities from their earliest youth. This is but the converse of the power possessed by a protoplast set free from its cell, which enables it to move, stretch out, and draw in its various parts, and so to effect locomotion. Another motion, differing from the creeping, gliding, and streaming action of protoplasts, manifests itself in the so-called swarming of granules contained in the protoplasm. It may be best observed in the cells of the genera Peniwm and Closteriwm, both of which are shown in figure 254, 7, k, though the same phenomenon is to be seen in many allied forms, living in lakes and ponds either singly or congregated in colonies, and remarkable for their bright green colour. The above-mentioned genus Clostervwm includes delicate unicellular forms having a curved or scimitar shape unusual in plants, whence one of its species, in which the semi-lunar form is most striking, has been named Closteriuwm lunula. The cell-membrane in all these little water-plants is clear and quite transparent. The greater part of the cell-contents consists of a dark-green chlorophyll body longitudinally grooved; but the protoplasm which is visible in the two sharply tapering ends of the cell-cavity is colourless, and embedded within it is a swarm of microsomata. These granules or microsomata appear to be in a most curious state of motion so long as the protoplast lives. They are to be seen plainly within the limits of the tiny cavity, jumping up and down, whirling, dancing, and rushing about without really changing their position. One is reminded of the apparently purposeless journeyings to and fro within reach of their homes of ants or bees, and the movement has been called not inaptly 36 MOVEMENTS OF PROTOPLASM IN CELL-CAVITIES. “swarming.” It is difficult to imagine the kind of motion possessed by the protoplasm in which these swarming microsomata are embedded; but however closely it is confined, there must be continual rapid displacements in its substance, which is very fluid, and it may be assumed that here again it is not so much the tiny grains that bestir themselves as the protoplasm which holds them. Probably the protoplasmic matter spreads and stretches out and rotates, and individual granules are carried about by it. This, of course, does not exclude the possibility of the granules possessing a vibratory motion of their own within the mass of protoplasm. Similar, but not identical, is the swarming movement of protoplasm observed in cells of the Water-net (Hydrodictyon utriculatum), and in several other plants allied to it. Hydrodictyon looks like a net in the form of a sac, and composed of green threads. The meshes of this net, which are generally hexagonal, consist, however, not of filaments but of slender cylindrical cells joined together by threes at their extremities, somewhat in the same way as are the leaden frames of the little hexagonal panes of glass in gothic windows. The protoplasmic body of one of these cells in due time breaks up into a great multitude (7000-20,000) of tiny clots, which begin to move and swarm within the cell-cavity in what appears to be a disordered medley. In half an hour, however, the excited mass is again restored to rest: the minute particles take form and arrange themselves in definite order, each having two others at either extremity, making an angle of 120° with it; and, lastly, all unite to form a single tiny net having exactly the same shape as the one whose component cell constituted the arena of this process of construc- tion. The miniature water-net so formed then slips out of the cell, the latter opening for the purpose, and in from three to four weeks it grows to the same size as the parent plant. In the above we have an instance of a protoplast producing a whole colony of cells, which are obliged to leave their home for want of space. In cases previously considered we have found the protoplast stretching and elongating in all directions, drawing itself out into bridles and spreading as a delicate lining to walls, and so endeavouring generally to expand and present the greatest surface possible. Again, we have seen it wandering freely, creeping, swimming, and rotating, and by this method also covering as much space as it can. But, con- versely, there is a time when a protoplast tends to the other extreme; the expanded mass of its body gathers itself together again, contracts more and more, and at length becomes a resting sphere, that is to say, it assumes the con- figuration which exposes the least surface to the environment. This process exhibits itself with particular clearness within the cell-cavities of the green alge known by the name of Spirogyra, a species of which is represented, magnified three hundred times, in figure 254, 1. In this alga the protoplasm in each mature cell-cavity forms, as a general rule, a very deli- cate parietal lining wherein green chlorophyll bodies are embedded, arranged in a spiral band. All of a sudden, however, this lining strips itself off the inner MOVEMENTS OF SIMPLE ORGANISMS. 37 face of the cell-wall and shrinks together so as in a short time to present the appearance of a sphere occupying the middle of the cell-cavity. Again, just as this contraction is an instance of a special form of protoplasmic motion, so also the further change which the contracted protoplast in a cell of Spirogyra under- goes is reducible to displacements in its substance, and must be mentioned as a special kind of protoplasmic movement. For the conglomerated protoplast remains but a short time in the middle of the cell-cavity. It leans almost immediately to one side, thrusting itself into a protuberance of the cell-mem- brane, which is concurrently developed, and which, when further developed, forms a passage leading over into another cell-cavity. Its body becomes longer and narrower, and at last slips through the passage into the next cavity, where a second protoplast awaits it; and the two then unite, fusing together into one mass. It is not premature to remark that all these displacements and invest- ments of the protoplasmic substance in cells of Spirogyra, including the pheno- mena of contraction, as well as those of pushing forward, escape, and coalescence, are not produced as the results of a shock, impulse, or stimulus from without, but are to be looked upon as movements proper to the protoplasm, and resulting from causes inherent in the protoplasm. MOVEMENTS OF VOLVOCINE®, DIATOMACE, OSCILLARLE AND BACTERIA. Very remarkable is the movement of those wonderful organisms which are comprised under the name of Volvocines. One species, Volvow globator, was known to so ancient an observer as Leeuwenhoek; but he, and after him Linnzus, took it to be an animal on account of its extraordinary power of locomotion, and it was named the “globe-animalcule.” A Volvox-sphere consists of a large number of green protoplasts living together as a family and arranged with great regularity within their common envelope. They appear to be disposed radially, and to be linked together and held firm by a net-work of tough threads, their poles being directed towards the centre and the periphery of the sphere respectively. From the peripheral extremity, which in each protoplast is marked out by a bright red spot, proceed a pair of cilia, and these protrude through the soft gelatinous envelope of the whole sphere, and move rhythmically in the surrounding water. A Volvox-globe rolls along in the water propelled by regular strokes, like a boat manned by a number of oarsmen, as soon as the protoplasts, which form the crew of this strange vessel, begin to manipulate their propellers. The effect is exceed- ingly graceful, and has justly filled observers of all periods with astonishment; indeed no one seeing for the first time a Volvox- oe rolling along can fail to be impressed and delighted. Another plant allied to the foregoing, the so-called “red-snow,” has always excited wonder in no less degree from the remarkable phenomena of motion which it exhibits, but also because of its characteristic occurrence in situations where one 38 MOVEMENTS OF SIMPLE ORGANISMS. might suppose all vital functions would be extinguished. It was in the year 1760 that De Saussure first noticed that the snowfields on the mountains of Savoy were tinged with red, and described the phenomenon as “red-snow.” Once on the look-out for it, people found this red-snow on the Alps of Switzerland, Tyrol, and the district of Salzburg, on the Pyrenees, the Carpathians, and the northern parts of the Ural Mountains, in arctic Scandinavia, and on the Sierra Nevada in California. But red- snow has been seen on the most magnificent scale in Greenland. When Captain John Ross in 1818 sailed round Cape York on his voyage of discovery to Arctic America, he noticed that all the snow patches lying in the gorges and gullies of the cliffs on the coast were coloured bright crimson; and the appearance was so start- ling that Ross named that rocky sea-shore the “Crimson Cliffs.” On the occasion of later expeditions to the arctic regions, red-snow was observed off the north coast of Spitzbergen, and in Russian Lapland and Eastern Siberia, but never in such sur- prising luxuriance as on the Crimson Cliffs uf Greenland. If a snow-field coloured by red-snow is examined near at hand it is found that only the most superficial layer, about 50 millimeters in depth, is tinged. It is also present in the greatest quantities in places where the snow has been temporarily melted by the heat of summer, particularly therefore in depressions, whether big or little, and towards the edges of the snow-field, where the so-called snow-dust or Cryoconite extends regularly in the form of dark, graphitic smeary streaks. Exam- ined under the microscope, the matter which causes the redness of the snow appears as a number of spherical cells having a rather substantial colourless cell- membrane and protoplasmic contents permeated by chlorophyll. The green colour of the chlorophyll is, however, so disguised by a blood-red pigment that it is only possible to detect it when the latter has been extracted, or in cases where it is limited to a few definite spots in the cell. These spherical cells do not move, and so long as the snow is frozen they show no sign of life. But as soon as the heat of the summer months melts the snow, these cells acquire vitality, visibly increasing in size and preparing for division and multiplication the moment they have attained a certain volume. The growth, so far as it depends on nutrition, takes place at the expense of carbon dioxide absorbed by the melted snow from the atmosphere and of the inorganic and organic constituent parts of the dust. We shall frequently have occasion to return to this dust, but at present it is only neces- sary to observe, for the comprehension of the drawing of red-snow as seen under the microscope (figure 254, e-h), that in the Alps, amongst the organic materials which constitute the dust, pollen-grains of conifers occur with great frequency, especially those of the fir, arolla, and mountain pine. These pollen-grains have been swept up into the high Alps by storms, and are already partially decayed. In all the material that I investigated I found the red-snow cells mixed with pollen-grains of the above-mentioned conifers. The pollen-grains are oval in cross- section, of a dirty yellow colour, and swollen laterally into two hemispherical wings, as is shown in figure 25, e-h. As has been stated, the red cells are nourished by the constituent elements of MOVEMENTS OF SIMPLE ORGANISMS. 39 the dust, which are dissolved in the melted snow. They grow and at last divide so as to form daughter-cells, usually four in number but often six or eight and less frequently two only (figure 254, fg). As soon as the division is accom- plished, the daughter-cells, so produced, free themselves, assume an oval shape, and display at their narrower extremity two rotating cilia by means of which they move about in snow-water with considerable vivacity. The interstices of the still unmelted, but now granular, snow, are filled with water from the melted parts, and through these the red cells swim away and are thus diffused over the snow-field. At the moment of escape and first assumption of movement the cell-body appears to be uninclosed. But it soon clothes itself with an extremely delicate, though clearly discernible skin, which, curiously enough, does not lie close to the proto- plasm, which is withdrawn slightly and inclosed as in a distended sac (see figure 254,¢). Only in front, where the two cilia carry on their whirling motion, does the skin lie close to the body of the cell; and it must be presumed that the cilia, which are simply extensions of the protoplasmic substance, are projected through the envelope. The swarm-spores afford an example of an unusual type of protoplasts, namely of those that move about singly in the water by means of cilia and at the same time carry their self-made cell-membranes with them. How long the motile stage lasts under natural conditions has not been deter- mined for certain. On the mountains of central and southern Europe, where hot days are followed, even in the height of summer, by bitterly cold nights, causing the melted snow which has not run off to freeze again in the depressions of the snow, the movement no doubt is often interrupted. On the other hand, in high latitudes, where the summer sun does not set for weeks together, such interruption would be exceptional. In any case, however, the locomotion of the red cells with their hyaline cell-membranes is not limited to so short a period as is that of naked ciliated protoplasts. Moreover they have the power of nutrition and growth like the red resting-cells from which they originate, and they have been observed, in a culture, to increase in size fourfold within two days. When at last they come to rest they draw in their cilia, assume a spherical shape, thicken their cell-membrane, which now once more lies close to the protoplasmic body, and divide anew into two, four, or eight cells (figure 254, f,g). The fusion of the protoplasts of the red cells in pairs, and their sexual propagation, which has been observed in addition to the above-described asexual multiplication, will be the subject of discussion later on. At present we need only add with reference to this remarkable plant that it was named Spherella nivalis by the botanist Sommerfelt, and that not only in mode of life, but also in form and colour, it most closely resembles a kind of blood-red alga, which makes its appearance in Central Europe in little hollows temporarily filled with rain-water in flat rocks and slabs of stone, and also inside receptacles exposed to the open. This alga has received the name of Spherella pluvialis, and also that of Haematococcus pluvialis. Lastly, we have to consider the mysterious movements exhibited by many Diatomaces, and by the filamentous species of Zonotrichia, Oscillaria, and 40 MOVEMENTS OF SIMPLE ORGANISMS. Beggiatoa. As regards the Diatoms, some of them are firmly attached to a support, and are not generally capable of locomotion; but others are almost in- cessantly in motion, and these little unicellular organisms steer themselves about with great precision near the bottom of the pools of water in which they live. Their cell-membrane is transformed into a siliceous coat, and this coat, which is hyaline and transparent, but very hard, consists of two halves shutting together like the valves of a mussel. The entire cell thus coated has the form of a gondola or little boat, with a keel either straight or curved (Plewrosigma, Pinnularia, Navicula), and is provided with various bands, ribs, and sculpturings on its siliceous walls. Driven by inherent forces, these little protected cruisers pursue their way at the bottom of the water or over objects which happen to be in the water. They either glide evenly over the substratum, or else proceed by fits and starts at rather long intervals, and apparently with difficulty. For some time they may hold a straight course, but not infrequently they deviate side- ways without apparent cause, and after deviating return again. They double round projecting objects or push them out of the way with one of their hard points, which are often thickened into nodules, and cause the obstructing objects to slip by alongside the keel of the little vessel. Yet no paddles or cilia are to be seen projecting from it, as in the case already described of Volvocinex; nor does the siliceous coat exhibit any sort of motile processes whereto the move- ments might be attributed. But the strong analogy between the structure of these Diatomaceze and that of mussels seems to justify the assumption that the two siliceous valves, which are fast shut during the period of rest of the Diatoms in question, move a little apart, so that the protoplast living within can push out one edge of its body and creep along over the substratum by means of it. The movements of the filaments of Beggiatou, Oscillaria, and Zonotrichia are explained in a similar manner. These filaments are made up of a number of short cylindrical or discoid cells, and are attached by one end, but with the other execute most striking movements. They stretch themselves and then contract again, coil up and straighten out like snakes, and, most characteristic of all, make periodic oscillations in the water. The belief is that the mechanism of this motion is similar to that of the preceding, that infinitesimally fine fila- ments of protoplasm inserted spirally penetrate the cell-walls, and that these act like the propeller of a ship. On looking back over the multifarious examples of movement that have been described, the conviction that the capacity for motion is inherent in all living protoplasts is difficult to resist. In many cases, of course, the displacement and replacement of the substance no doubt takes place so slowly that it is scarcely possible to express its amount numerically. Movement may even entirely cease for a time; but, as necessity arises, and under favourable external circumstances, the protoplasmic mass always becomes mobile again—the direction of its motion being determined by inherent forces. There is still much to learn, no doubt, con- cerning the objects and significance of the different movements of protoplasm; CELL CONTENTS. 41 but in this connection we are justified in assuming that all these movements have to do with the maintenance and multiplication of the protoplasts. For instance, amongst the objects of the various movements are the search for food, the elimination of useless material, the production of offspring, the discovery of the rays of sunlight necessary to the existence of chlorophyll-bodies and of suitable spots to colonize. This conception has been brought out frequently in the course of the foregoing description, and will again engage our attention in succeeding pages. 3. SECRETIONS AND CONSTRUCTIVE ACTIVITY OF PROTOPLASTS. Cell-sap.—Cell-nucleus.— Chlorophyll-bodies.—Starch.—Crystals.—Construction of the Cell-wall and Establishment of Communication between Neighbouring Cell-cavities. CELL-SAP.—CELL-NUCLEUS.—CHLOROPHYLL-BODIES.—STARCH.—CRYSTALS. In addition to the powers which the living protoplast possesses of shifting its parts, of expanding and contracting, of dividing and of fusing like with like, it has also the properties of adapting different parts of its body to particular functions, of building up various chemical compounds, and of separating them out when necessary. As the protoplast stretches and expands, spaces and depressions arise within it, and these form ultimately, when the protoplast is limited to a peripheral layer lining the walls of the cavity, a single central vacuole. In the spaces there is secreted, in the first instance, the cell-sap, a watery fluid containing a variety of substances either suspended or in solution, of which the chief are sugar, acids, and colouring matters. Moreover, in the interior of the protoplasm itself, structures with quite different forms occur, and are easily recog- nizable by their contours; these are the cell-nucleus, chlorophyll-bodies, and starch- grains. The principal feature of the cell-nucleus is that, although the substance of which it is composed is only slightly different from the general protoplasm of the cell, yet it is always clearly marked off from the protoplasm. In the un- developed protoplast the nucleus is usually situated in the middle, but in mature protoplasts it is either pressed against one wall of the cell or suspended in a sort of pocket of protoplasmic filaments in the interior (fig. 51 and 5°). It may be pushed along by the streaming protoplasm and dragged into the middle of the cell, and in that case its shape is sometimes altered and it becomes for a time somewhat elongated and flattened. The nuclear substance, which, as has been already mentioned, differs but little from ordinary protoplasm, is colourless, and studded with microsomata, and is liable to internal displacements similar to those of the entire cell-body. When a protoplast divides, the nucleus plays a very 42 THE CELL-WALL. important part in the process, and it will be necessary later on to discuss its significance in this connection. The chlorophyll-bodies, mentioned already more than once incidentally, are green corpuscles, roundish, ellipsoidal, or lenticular in shape, and grouped in a great variety of ways (figure 254, 2, k, l, m, p). They are produced generally in great numbers by the protoplast in special sac-like excavations in its body, but nowhere except where they are necessary, that is, in those cells wherein the transmutation of inorganic food-stuffs into organic matter takes place. This transformation, so important to the existence of the organic world, will be con- sidered in detail later on. Chlorophyll-corpuscles are not, as regards their material basis, essentially different from the substance of the protoplasm in which they are formed, and in which they remain embedded for life, but their green colour distinguishes them very clearly from their environment. This greenness is due to a colouring matter stored in the protoplasmic substance of the corpuscle; and our ideas of plant-life are so intimately associated with this remarkable pigment, that a plant that is not green seems to us to be almost an anomaly. Besides the nucleus and the chlorophyll-bodies or corpuscles, protoplasts pro- duce starch-grains, aleurone-grains, crystals of oxalate of lime, and drops of oil, all of which will be dealt with presently in their proper place. They are evolved in accordance with the requirements of the moment and with the position held in the edifice of the plant by the cells concerned. Moreover, the walls of the cells them- selves are the work of the protoplasts, and it is not a mere phrase, but a literal fact, that the protoplasts build their abodes themselves, divide and adapt the interiors according to their requirements, store up necessary supplies within them, and, most important of all, provide the wherewithal needful for nutrition, for maintenance and for reproduction. CONSTRUCTION OF THE CELL-WALL AND ESTABLISHMENT OF CONNECTIONS BETWEEN NEIGHBOURING CELL-CAVITIES. Of all these performances, the construction of the cell-wall shows the greatest variety from the nature of the case. For the envelope with which each individual protoplast surrounds itself serves at once as a protection for the delicate protoplasm, and as a firm support for structural additions; and, at the same time, it must not impede the reciprocal action between the protoplasts and the external world, or the intercourse between those living in adjoining cavities. These cell-walls are accord- ingly very wonderful structures, and we shall often have occasion to discuss them, especially with reference to the significance of variations in their structure in particular cases. At present it is sufficient to remark that the original envelope which is secreted from the body of a protoplast and which appears at first as a delicate skin, is made of a substance composed of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen, belonging to the class of carbohydrates. The name of cell-membrane, usually applied to the original envelope formed by THE CELL-WALL. 43 the cell-body, is one quite suitable for the purpose. But this earliest covering under- goes many modifications. The protoplast is able to store up in it suberin, lignin, silica, and water in greater or smaller quantities, and by this means it either makes the envelope more flexible than it was in the first instance, or else hard and stiff, converting it into a shell-like case. Even the shape is seldom preserved as it was originally. The solitary protoplast surrounded by its cell-membrane is gener- ally in the form of a roundish ball, and its envelope, which is closely adherent, exhibits a corresponding configuration. Young cells, aggregated together, have outlines too which remind one of crystalline forms, such as dodecahedra, cubes, and short six-sided prisms. But when a protoplast has produced its first delicate covering it does not come to rest, but goes on working at the membrane, distending and thickening it, transforming a cavity which was originally spherical or cubical into one of cylindrical, fibrous, or tabular shape, and strengthening its walls with pilasters, borders, ridges, hooks, bands, and panels of various kinds. Where a number of protoplasts work gregariously at one many-chambered edifice, cells of most diverse forms are produced in close proximity to one another. These varieties are, however, never without method and design, but are invariably such as to adequately equip each cell for the position it holds and for the particular task allotted to it in the general domestic economy. The volume attained by cell-cavities in consequence of the expansion of their walls varies within very wide limits. The smallest cells have a diameter of only one micro-millimeter, %.¢. the thousandth part of a millimeter; others, as for example yeast-cells, measure perhaps two or three hundredths of a millimeter; and yet others have outlines perceptible to the naked eye and have a volume amounting to one cubie millimeter. Tubular and fibrous cells often stretch longitudinally to such an extraordinary extent that some with a diameter of scarcely the hun- dredth part of a millimeter reach a length of one, two, or even as many as five centimeters. An instance may be seen in the filaments of Vaucheria clavata (figure 25a, a—d), and again in the fibrous cells from which our linen and cotton fabrics are manufactured. The enlargement of a cell-cavity, or, in other words, the growth in area of its walls, ensues in consequence of the intercalation of fresh particles between those which, by their mutual coherence, form the delicate skin of the protoplast —the earliest stage of the cell-wall. When these intercalated particles are situ- ated in the same plane as are those already deposited, the cell-wall resulting from this method of construction will increase in area without adding to its thickness. But when once the cells are full-sized, the constructive activity of the protoplasts has to be directed in many cases to the strengthening and thick- ening of their walls, so that later on they may be able to perform special duties. From the appearance of this thickening one would judge that a number of layers were deposited on the thin original wall according to requirement, and in many instances no doubt the process corresponds to this appearance; but, as a rule, the thickness of the wall is increased by intercalation, on the part of the protoplasts, of 44, THE CELL-WALL. additional material between the original particles, a process which has been termed “intussusception.” The appearance of stratification in thickened cell-walls is naturally moss strik- ing where substances of different kinds have been deposited alternately in the different parts of the wall, and when successive layers take up unequa: quantities of water. The thickening may at length result in such an extreme restriction of the cell-cavity that its diameter is less than that of the inclosing wall. Sometimes nothing remains of the cavity but a narrow passage, and then the cells are like solid fibres. Formerly they would not have been classed with cells at all, but would have been distinguished under the name of fibres, from the forms resembling honey-comb cells. The protoplasts in these contracted cells languish and often die, especially when the walls of the self-made prison are greatly thickened and do not allow of intercourse with the world outside. But generally a protoplast takes care, in constructing its dwelling, not to close itself in entirely, nor to cut itself off permanently from the outer world. It either makes from the very beginning little windows in the walls of its house, leaving them quite open or closed only by thin, easily-permeable, membranes; or else, after constructing a completely closed enve- lope, it redissolves a piece of it, thus making an aperture through which in due time it is able to effect its escape. The scope of this work does not admit of an exhaustive treatment of the formative power possessed by protoplasts needful for these results; it will be sufficient to give a general description of some of the more important processes which have for their object the establishment of a connection between adjacent cell-cavities and of communication with the external world. The new particles of material, or cellulose, which are to strengthen the delicate original cell-membrane, are in many instances not deposited or intercalated evenly over the entire surface of the protoplast. Little isolated spots are left unaltered, and these may be compared in a way to the small glazed windows in a living-room, or cabin port-holes closed by thin panes of glass. The part of the thickened wall which immediately surrounds the little window, and which so to speak constitutes its frame, has, besides, often a very characteristic structure, being elevated so as to form first a ring-like border, and eventually a hood, arching over the window and perforated in the middle (see fig. 101). A comparison of this structure, arched over the thin spots in a cell-wall, to the iris spread in front of the crystalline lens in an eye would be still more appropriate. A similar annular border projects likewise from the window-frame on the other side, facing a neighbouring cell-cavity, so that the window appears symmetrically vaulted on both sides by mouldings with round central apertures (fig. 107). Supposing someone wanted to pass from one cell-cavity to the other he would have in the first place to go through the hole in the moulding on his side. He would then find himself in a roomy space, which we will call the vestibule, and would next have to break through the little window, which is somewhat thickened in the middle, but elsewhere is as soft and thin as possible. On the further side THE CELL-WALL. 45 again would be a vestibule, and it would not be until he had emerged from this through the aperture in the second moulding that he would reach the interior of the adjoining cell. Seen from in front, the outline of one of these windows, or rather the outline of the common floor of the vestibules, appears as a circle, whilst the aperture or opening in the moulding—which is exactly in the centre of this circle—is seen as a bright dot or pit encompassed by the circle which defines the limits of the vestibule. Hence these curiously protected window structures are named bordered pits. They are shown in fig. 101 and 10?, and are to be seen in great perfection in the wood-cells of pines and firs. Whenever bordered pits are formed, the thickening of the cell-membrane is comparatively slight; the frame of the window in the cell-wall is never more than Fig 10.—Connecting Passages between adjacent Cell-cavities. 1, Bordered pits. 2, Section of a bordered pit. 8, Mode of connection of adjacent cells in the bundle-sheath of Scolopendrium. 4, Sieve-tubes. 5, Group of cells from seed of Nux-vomica, the protoplasts of adjoining cell-cavities connected by fine protoplasmic filaments. five times as thick as the window-pane itself. In other cases, however, the cell-wall becomes twenty or thirty times as thick as it was at first, and the interior of the cell is thereby seriously diminished in size. But even if, little by little, the cell-wall augments in thickness a hundredfold, any spot where thickening has not taken place from the first, and where, accordingly, a little depression occurs, is not subsequently covered with cellulose, but is carefully kept open by the protoplast as it builds. A greatly thickened wall of this kind resembles a fortification provided here and there with deep, narrow loopholes. Where two cells thus provided adjoin one another, the windows in the one occur, normally, exactly opposite those of its neighbour, and the result is the formation of canals, very long relatively, which penetrate through the two adjacent cell-walls and connect the neighbouring cell- cavities together (fig. 10°). A canal of this kind is still closed, it is true, in the middle by the original cell-membrane as though by a lock-gate; but this slight obstruction may be removed later by solution, and the contiguous cells have then perfectly open connection through the canal. Very frequently provision is made in the very first rudiments of a cell-mem- 46 THE CELL-WALL. brane, destined to constitute a partition-wall, for open communications such as the above. For segments of the wall of various sizes are made from the beginning with sieve-like perforations, as is shown in fig. 10‘, which represents diagrammatically portions of tubular cells called “ sieve-tubes.” The pores are crowded close together on the perforated areas of the walls of the sieve-tubes, and their dimensions are relatively broad and short. Thus, when two neighbouring protoplasts reach out to one another through these pores, that is to say, when there is continuity of the protoplasm of the two cell-cavities, the connecting filaments, which pass through the pores and which fill them completely, are short and thick and have the appearance of pegs or stoppers. But in many cases the pores through which adjoining cell-cavities communicate are drawn out to a great length, forming infinitesimally slender passages. They are situated close together in great numbers and penetrate transversely through the thick cell-walls (fig. 10°). Neighbouring protoplasts may be brought equally well into mutual connection by means of these canals, or perhaps it would be better to say that their connection may be equally well maintained. For it is very probably the case that in the first rudimentary partition-wall, which is produced between the products of division of a protoplast, minute spots remain open and are occupied by connecting threads common to both halves of the protoplasm as they draw apart. Then in proportion as the partition-wall between the two protoplasts, produced by the division, becomes thicker, the openings take the form of fine canals, and the con- necting filaments are modified into long and exceedingly fine threads which fill the canals. These protoplasmic threads pierce through the thickened cell-wall in the same way as a dozen telegraph-wires might be drawn through a partition from one room into another. Often a number of protoplasts living side by side and one above the other are linked together by filaments of this kind, which radiate in all directions. This species of connection, of which an intelligible idea is given by fig. 10°, escaped the notice of observers in former times owing to the extraordinary minute- ness of the canals, and delicacy of the protoplasmic filaments. Another method of communication between protoplasts in adjoining cells has, on the other hand, been long known and often described, its phenomena being very striking and visible when only slightly magnified. The connection referred to is that which is afforded by the formation of so-called “vessels.” By vessels the older botanists understood tubes or utricles, arising from the dissolution of the partition-walls between a series of cells. Hither the partition-walls in a rectilineal row of cells vanish, in which case long straight tubes are produced; or portions of the walls of cells arranged at different angles to one another are dissolved, and then tubes are formed having an irregular course, and sometimes branching or even uniting, so as to make a net-work. In instances of the first kind the lateral walls of the series of cells which are to lose their transverse partitions are previously thickened and made stiff by the proto- plasts, which also provide them with various mouldings and panellings, and above all with bordered pits. This task accomplished, the protoplasts forsake the tubes, whose TRANSMISSION OF STIMULI. 47 function thenceforth it is to serve as passages for air and water; thus the con- tinued presence of the protoplasts is no longer advantageous. On the other hand, in the second class of vessels the lateral walls of the cells, which have coalesced to form them, exhibit no thickening, but are soft and delicate, and resemble flexible tubing. These tubes, moreover, are not deserted by their protoplasts; but, after the coalescence of a number of cells into a single duct has taken place, the protoplasts in the cells are themselves merged together, and the entire tube is then occupied by an uninterrupted mass of protoplasm, which generally persists as a lining to the wall. As the initiation and construction of cell-walls are the work of the living proto- plast, so also is their removal. The home it has made for itself the protoplast can also demolish—either partially or completely. But this demolition is preluded by the importation of particles of water into the portions of the wall which are to be destroyed. The introduction of water brings the wall into a gelatinous condition; the cohesion of its constituent particles is loosened, little by little, and at length completely abolished. 4, COMMUNICATION OF PROTOPLASTS WITH ONE ANOTHER AND WITH THE OUTER WORLD. The transmission of stimuli and the specific constitution of protoplasm.— Vital Force, Instinct,and Sensation. THE TRANSMISSION OF STIMULI AND THE SPECIFIC CONSTITUTION OF PROTOPLASM. As has been already intimated, the breaking down of individual cell-walls and the formation of the various pits, sieve-pores and fine canals in thickened mem- branes, in the manner described in preceding pages, are processes of great import- ance to the life of protoplasts. In the first place, many of the resulting structures are the means of preserving the-possibility of intercourse with the outside world. In a space inclosed by evenly thickened walls, the absorption of air, water, and other raw materials from the environment would be very difficult if not impossible; the protoplast inside would soon lack the provisions needful for further development, and would at last die of starvation, drought, and suffocation. But the little win- dows, whether open or closed by thin permeable membranes, enable it to supply itself with all necessaries of life. Another advantage is derived, in the case of many of these structures, inasmuch as the protoplasts on occasion escape through the open doors and settle down in some other part of the cell-colony, where they are able again to make themselves useful. Lastly, one of the most important benefits of all is due to the fact that mutual intercourse between protoplasts, living together as a commonwealth, is rendered possible by the canals which join them together. And 48 TRANSMISSION OF STIMULI. such an intercourse must of necessity be presumed to exist. When one considers the unanimous co-operation of protoplasts living together as a colony, and observes how neighbouring individuals, though produced from one and the same mother-cell, yet exercise different functions according to their position; and, further, how uni- versally there is the division of labour most conducive to the well-being of the whole community, it is not easy to deny to a society, which works so harmoniously, the possession of unity of organization. The individual members of the colony must have community of feeling and a mutual understanding, and stimuli must be pro- pagated from one part to another. No more obvious explanation offers than that the protoplasmic filaments, which run like telegraph-wires through the narrow pores and canals in the cell-walls (see fig. 10°), serve to propagate and transmit stimuli from one protoplast to another. These threads of protoplasm may indeed be likened to nerves which convey impulses determining definite actions from cell to cell. Imagination takes us further still, and raises the cell-nucleus to the position of the dominant organ of the cell-body For the nucleus not only determines the activity of the individual protoplast within its own cavity, but continues in sympathetic communion with its neighbour by means of all the threads and liga- ments which converge upon it. This last idea in particular derives support from indications that the filaments uniting neighbouring protoplasts have their origin in specific transformations in the substance of the nucleus itself. When a proto- plast living in a cell-cavity is about to divide into two, the process resulting in division is as follows:—The nucleus places itself in the middle of its cell, and at first characteristic lines and streaks appear in its substance, making it look like a ball made up of threads and little rods pressed together. These threads gradu- ally arrange themselves in positions corresponding to the meridian lines upon a globe; but, at the place where on a globe the equator would lie, there then occurs suddenly a cleavage of the nucleus—a partition-wall of cellulose is interposed in the gap, and from a single cell we now have produced a pair of cells. In this way, from the nucleus, and from the protoplast of which the nucleus is the centre, two protoplasts have been produced, each having a nucleus of its own, and they thenceforth live side by side, each in its own chamber. It has been proved that in this process of division the substance of the nucleus is not completely sundered by the partition as it grows, but that, as we have already mentioned, minute pores are kept open in the cellulose wall, and that the pair of protoplasts continue joined together by threads running through these pores. When we realize that every plant was once only a single minute lump of protoplasm, inasmuch as the biggest tree, like the smallest moss, has its origin in the protoplasm of an egg-cell or a spore; and when we consider how, by growth and repeated bipartition, thousands of cells are evolved, step by step, from a single one, whilst their protoplastic bodies still remain united by fine filaments, we arrive of necessity at the conclusion that the whole mass of protoplasm, living in all the myriads of cells whose aggregation constitutes a tree, really is, and ( £ | TRANSMISSION OF STIMULL 49 continues to be, a single individual, whose parts are only separated by perforated sieve-like partitions. Every member of this community occupies a particular compartment or cavity, and is governed by a central organ, the cell-nucleus; but. being linked to its fellows by connecting threads of protoplasm, a mutual under- : standing is thus established among them. The physical basis of such an understanding may in this manner be represented * with tolerable certainty. But it is extremely difficult to throw light upon the 1 process of this mutual intelligence, the actual method whereby the cell-nuclei : not only govern within their own narrow spheres, but also co-operate harmoniously : for the good of the whole. And yet the problem involved in this unanimity of : action, with a view to a systematic development of the plant in its entirety, is of such extreme importance that we cannot evade it even if, in the endeavour ' to solve it, we have to move altogether in the region of hypothesis. In every attempt at explanation of the kind we must, at all events, bear in mind that the agreement in question, as well as the processes which take place in pursuance of this agreement, such as the nutrition, growth, and the organization of the entire plant, are reducible to the subtlest atomic agencies in the living protoplasm. They may be resolved into the motion of minute particles, into attractions and repulsions, oscillations and vibrations of atoms, and into re-arrange- ments of the atomic groups called molecules. Again, these movements are the result of the action of forces, especially of gravity, light, and heat. As regards gravity and light, experiment shows, however, that, when acting on living proto- plasm, they give rise to varying effects even under the same conditions; and this fact, which will be discussed frequently later on, indicates that these forces are at any rate only to be conceived as stimulative and not coercive, and that they have no power to determine the kind of form. It is characteristic of the processes set up by gravity and light, especially when they take place in the continuous protoplasm of a great cell-community, that the coarser movements visible to the naked eye are often manifested in members comparatively remote from the part immediately affected by the stimulus. We cannot well represent this to ourselves except by supposing that the stimulus, which is the cause of the movement, is propagated through the threads of protoplasm from atom to atom, and from nucleus to nucleus. But the great puzzle lies, as already remarked, in the circum- stance that the atomic and molecular disturbances occasioned by such stimuli and transmitted through the connecting filaments are not only different in the proto- plasm of different kinds of plants, but even in the same plant they are of such a nature, according to the temporary requirement, that each one of the agoregated protoplasts in a community of cells undertakes the particular avocation which is most useful to the whole, the effect of this joint labour conveying the impression of the presence of a single governing power of definite design and of methodical - action. That a stimulus causes different occurrences in different species of plants, and, 1 more especially, that cell-communities arising from different egg-cells develop into Vou. I. 50 TRANSMISSION OF STIMULI. different forms, though under identical conditions and subjected to the same stimuli, are phenomena which have parallels in the inanimate world. A different sound is produced by striking the key of a piano which is connected to an A-string from that resulting from the transmission of a similar impulse to an F-string; and the difference depends on a difference of structure and an inequality of tension in the strings. Again, solutions of the sulphate and of the hyposulphite of sodium in similar glass vessels are indistinguishable at sight, both being colourless and transparent. These solutions will preserve their liquid condition when cooled down gradually to below freezing-point if they are kept absolutely still; but the moment the vessels are touched and a vibration thereby transmitted to the contents, they freeze. Crystals are formed in the apparently identical liquids, but crystals of different kinds, Glauber’s salts in the one case, hyposulphite of sodium in the other. The variety of form depends simply on the sort of atoms, and on their number and mode of grouping. In a similar manner must be explained the variety of forms in many plant- species developed under the same conditions and affected by the same stimuli. Dozens of kinds of unicellular Desmids and Diatoms are often developed at the same time in a single drop of water in close proximity to one another. Although the protoplasm in the spores of these different species is absolutely identical to our vision, aided by the best microscopes, yet the mature cells exhibit a multiplicity of form which is quite astonishing to the observer on first inspection. One cell is semi-lunar, another cylindrical, a third stellate, a fourth lozenge-shaped, and a fifth acicular. In one specimen the cell-membrane is smooth, in another it is beaded; some are provided with siliceous coats, whilst others have flexible envelopes. The same thing holds good with respect to the vegetable structures, which are composed of myriads of cells, and develop into huge shrubs or tall trees. The protoplasm in the egg-cell of an oleander is produced close to that of a poplar on the same river-bank, and under exactly the same extc-nal conditions. The cells divide, and partition-walls are introduced in the proper direction in either case, according to a plan of structure which is adhered to with marvellous precision by the protoplasts engaged in the work of construction. In each species, stem, branches, foliage, and blossoms have invariably a particular form and arrangement, have the same colour and smell, and contain the same substances. How utterly different are the mature leaf, the opened flower, and ripe fruit of the oleander from the corresponding parts of a poplar. Yet both were nourished by the same earth, were surrounded by the same atmosphere, and encountered the same rays of sun- shine. We cannot otherwise explain it than by the supposition that, in a case like this, the difference of form in the perfected state is based upon a difference in the self-developing protoplasm, and that the atoms and molecules of this proto- plasm, which appears to us to be uniform, vary in kind, number, and grouping in the two species of plants. Consequently, we must assume that every vegetable organism, every species of plant that appears invariably in the same external form when mature, and develops according to an invariable plan, has a protoplasm VITAL FORCE, INSTINCT, AND SENSATION. 51 of its own of a certain specific constitution. And, further, we must assume that this specific protoplasmic constitution is transmitted from one generation to another, so that the protoplasm of the oleander, for example, had exactly the same constitu- tion thousands of years ago as it has to-day. Lastly, we must assume that each special kind of protoplasm has the power to reproduce its like, ever anew, from the raw materials occurring in its environment. VITAL FORCE, INSTINCT, AND SENSATION. The phenomena observed in living protoplasm, as it grows and takes definite form, cannot in their entirety be explained by the assumption of a specific con- stitution of protoplasm for every distinct kind of plant; though this hypothesis will again prove very useful when we inquire into the origin of new species. What it does not account for is the appropriate manner in which various functions are distributed amongst the protoplasts of a cell-community; nor does it explain the purposeful sequence of different operations in the same protoplasm without any change in the external stimuli, the thorough use made of external advan- tages, the resistance to injurious influences, the avoidance or encompassing of insuperable obstacles, the punctuality with which all the functions are performed, the periodicity which occurs with the greatest regularity under constant condi- tions of the environment, nor, above all, the fact that the power of discharging all the operations requisite for growth, nutrition, renovation, and multiplication is liable to be lost. We call the loss of this power the death of the protoplasm. It ensues upon assaults from without if they succeed in destroying the molecular structure so entirely as to render reconstruction impossible; but, furthermore, death may take place without external cause. If cells of the blood-red alga, previously mentioned as allied to the red-snow, are collected from hollows in stones, casually full of rain-water, and are kept dry for weeks and then again moistened, the water is found to have a very power- ful effect. The protoplasm becomes mobile, and swarm-spores are formed which put forth vibratile cilia, propel themselves about for a short time in the water, and then settle down in some favoured spot, draw in their cilia, come to rest and divide, producing offspring which again are motile. This alga may be kept dry for months, nay even over a year, and still its cells exhibit the movements above described when put into water. But if a mass of it is preserved under these same conditions for many years and then moistened, the little cells will, it is true, take up additional water, but motile cells are no longer formed. The cells do not move, nor grow, nor divide, but gradually become discoloured; are first disintegrated and then dissolved. We say then that in them life could no longer be recalled, and we describe them as dead. The same thing is observed in great cell-communities. The seeds of many species of plants preserve the capacity for germination for an incredibly long period, especially when kept in a dry place. If after ten years such seeds are transferred into 52 VITAL FORCE, INSTINCT, AND SENSATION. moist earth, the protoplasm in the majority of cases begins to bestir itself and to move, and the embryo grows out into a seedling. After twenty years, perhaps, only about five per cent of the seeds preserved would germinate. The rest are not stimulated by damp earth to further development; their protoplasm no longer possesses the power of augmenting its volume by absorption of matter from the environment, or of developing a definite form, but is disintegrated by the influx of air and water and breaks up into simpler compounds. After thirty years hardly one of the seeds would sprout. Yet all these seeds were kept throughout the time at one place and under precisely the same external conditions; nor can the slightest change in their appearance be detected. Gardeners express the fact by saying that the capacity for germination becomes extinct in from twenty to thirty years. But what kind of a force is this which may perish without a physical change of the substance concerned affording the basis of the extinction? In former times a special force was assumed, the force of life. More recently, when many phenomena of plant life had been successfully reduced to simple chemical and mechanical processes, this vital foree was derided and effaced from the list of natural agencies. But by what name shall we now designate that force in nature which is liable to perish whilst the protoplasm suffers no physical alteration and in the absence of any extrinsic cause; and which yet, so long as it is not extinct, causes the protoplasm to move, to inclose itself, to assimilate certain kinds of fresh matter coming within the sphere of its activity and to reject others, and which, when in full action, makes the protoplasm adapt its movements under external stimulation to existing conditions in the manner which is most expedient? This force in nature is not electricity nor magnetism; it is not identical with any other natural force, for it manifests a series of characteristic effects which differ from those of all other forms of energy. Therefore, I do not hesitate again to designate as vital force this natural agency, not to be identified with any other~ whose immediate instrument is the protoplasm, and whose peculiar effects we call life. The atoms and molecules of protoplasm only fulfil the functions which constitute life so long as they are swayed by this vital force. If its dominion ceases, they yield to the operations of other forces. The recognition of a special natural force of this kind is not inconsistent with the fact that living bodies may at the same time be subject to other natural forces. Many phenomena of plant life may, as has been already frequently remarked, be conceived as simple chemical and mechanical processes, without the introduction of a special vital force; but the effects of these other forces are observed in lifeless bodies as well, and indeed act upon them in a precisely similar manner, and this cannot be said of the force of life. Were we to designate as instinctive those actions of the vital force which are manifested by movements purposely adapted in some manner advantageous to the whole organism, nothing could be urged against it. For what is instinct but an unconscious and purposeful action on the part of a living organism? Plants, then, possess instinct. We have instances of its operation in every swarm-spore VITAL FORCE, INSTINCT, AND SENSATION. 53 in search of the best place to settle in, and in every pollen-tube as it grows down through the entrance to an ovary and applies itself to one definite spot of an ovule, never failing in its object. The water-crowfoot, in deep water, fashions its leaves with finely divided tips, large air-passages, and no stomata; whilst, growing above the surface of the water, its leaves have broad lobes, contracted intercellular spaces and numerous stomata. Linaria Cymbalaria (see fig. 11) raises its flower-stalks from the stone wall over which it creeps towards the light, but as soon as fertilization has taken place, these same stalks, in that very place and amidst unchanged external conditions, curve in the opposite direction, so as Fig. 11.—Linaria Cymbalaria dropping its Seeds into Clefts in the Rocks. to deposit their seeds in a dark crevice. The flower-stalk of Vallisneria twists itself tightly into a screw and draws the flowers, which previously it had borne upon the surface of the water, down to the bottom when their stigmas have been covered with pollen-dust at the surface. These are all cases of unconscious action for a definite object, that is to say, they are the result of instinct. If, however, we attribute instinct to living plants, it is but a step further to consider them as endowed with sensation also. Feeling in animals is the con- comitant of a condition of disturbance in nerves and brain caused by a stimulus, which acts on the organs of sense, and is conveyed by nerves to the central organ. The transmission of the stimulus and the excited state of the brain and nerves are only molecular movements of the nervous substance, or, let us say, of the protoplasm, for nerve-fibres and nerve-cells are simply protoplasm developed in a particular manner. But the state induced by the stimulation of protoplasm, which is what we call sensation, cannot be essentially different in vegetable protoplasm from what it is in animal protoplasm, since the protoplasm itself, the physical basis of life in both plant and animal, is not different. In isolated plant-cells, indeed, it may amount to such a concentration of the condition of stimulation as to be called sensation, for the cell-nucleus is to all appearance 54 VITAL FORCE, INSTINCT, AND SENSATION. a central organ in relation to the protoplast that lives m a solitary cell. It is not of course to be supposed that within a whole plant-structure, that is in the community of live protoplasts which constitutes an individual plant, such a con- centration of stimulation could occur as is the case with individual animals which have nerve-fibres all converging into the brain; but between the sensation of animals without nerves and that of plants no essential difference can exist. Hence we infer that there is no barrier between plants and animals. The attempt to establish a boundary-line where the realm of plants ceases and the animal world begins is a vain one. If we naturalists, all the same, agree tc separate plants and animals, we do so only because experience shows that a division of labour conduces to a speedier attainment of our object. On the intermediate ground where animals and plants meet, zoologists and botanists encounter one another, not, however, as hostile rivals with a view to exclusive possession of the field, but as colleagues with a common interest in the adminis- tration and cultivation of this jointly tenanted region. ABSORPTION OF NUTRIMENT. 1. INTRODUCTION. Classification of plants with reference to nutrition.—Theory of food-absorption. CLASSIFICATION OF PLANTS WITH REFERENCE TO NUTRITION. The object of a plant’s vital energy, next in importance to the resistance of such influences as are likely to bring about the death of the protoplasm, is growth, i.e. the addition of substance to its body, or, in other words, the absorption of nutriment. A living plant, whether consisting of a single cell or of a vast community of cells, takes up food from its environment in quantities varying according to the needs of the moment. But its method of action—how it sets about acquiring possession of this raw material, how it manages to incorporate the substances absorbed from with- out, how it contrives to retain only such part as is useful to it, and to reject and get. rid of, like ballast, what does not subserve its own growth—is infinitely varied. This variety in the processes of food-absorption corresponds, on the one hand, to differences in the habitat of plants, and, on the other, to the requirements of particu- lar species, which requirements in their turn depend upon a specific constitution of the protoplasm in each species concerned. The difference must be very great between this process as manifested in plants which are immersed in water during their whole lives and the same as it occurs in plants which live in desert sands and are not supplied with water for months together. And again, absorption in those fungi which grow luxuriantly on damp timber in the deep obscurity of a mine must take place very differently from the corresponding process in the delicate alpine plants which on our mountain slopes are exposed periodically to the most intense sunlight, and then, for weeks at a time, are wreathed in sombre mists. So, also, the reciprocal action between plants and their environment must have a character of its own in the case of parasitic growths which absorb their food from other living organisms, and in those remarkable plants, too, which catch and devour small insects, and in such minute organisms as yeast, the vinegar ferment, and others, which play so important a part in our daily life, and lastly, in the gigantic trees which form our forests. To acquire a general notion of these forms, with reference to their varieties as regards nutrition, it is best to classify them in the first place in groups according to their habitat, viz.: into water-plants or hydrophytes, stone-plants or lithophytes, land-plants, and epiphytes. But here again it is necessary to remark that no sharp 55 56 CLASSIFICATION OF PLANTS WITH REFERENCE TO NUTRITION. line of demarcation exists between these groups; all are connected by numerous intermediate links, and there are forms which belong to one group at one stage of development and to another at another stage. The distinctive property of aquatic plants is that they derive their nourishment either entirely or principally from the surrounding water. Some preserve their freedom, floating or swimming about in the liquid medium; but the majority are fixed somewhere under the water by special organs of attachment. Many plants that are rooted in the mud at the bottom of pools are able to derive their food from the water when it is high, and when it is low, from the atmosphere as well: such amphibious organisms form a transitional group between water-plants and land- plants. The number of lithophytes is comparatively very small. They include those lichens and mosses which cling in immediate contact to the surface of stones and derive their food in a fluid state direct from the atmosphere. All lithophytes are so constituted that they can, without injury, dry up and suspend their vitality for a time when there is a failure of atmospheric precipitation lasting over a long period or when the air itself is very dry. But not every plant which grows upon rocks is to be regarded as a lithophyte in the narrower acceptation of the term. Those that are rooted in earth in the cracks and crevices of the rock must be classed amongst land-plants. To this class indeed more than half the plants now in existence belong. Though surrounded by air as regards a part of their structure they have another part sunk in the soil, and from the soil they take up water and inorganic compounds in aqueous solution. Plants which grow attached to other plants or to animals are called epiphytes. The majority of plants are during the period of food-absorption connected with the foster-earth and are not capable of locomotion. The plant being fixed to one spot must therefore sooner or later exhaust the ground in its neighbourhood, and must require a further supply of nutritive substances. The parts specially devoted to food-absorption often lengthen out in these circumstances beyond the im- poverished region, and thus endeavour to bring areas more and more distant within the range of absorption. Many plants possess the faculty, to which reference has already been made, of alluring animals and of killing and sucking their juices. Not only amongst saprophytes and parasites, but also amongst aquatic plants, instances occur in which certain movements are performed involving the whole body of the organism, with a view to promoting the absorption of nutriment. Particularly striking in this respect are many plasmoid fungi (which we may well refer to here, not on this account alone, but also for the additional reason that they take in nourishment without the intervention of a cell-membrane). The naked protoplasm in these cases, which include in particular the class of Amcebe, crawls in its search for food over the nourishing substratum, and derives from it immediately the materials needful for growth. Loose bodies are liable to be seized by the radiating processes of the proto- plasm, which then closes round them and drains them completely of their juices (see fig. 9, the last figure to the right). These bodies encompassed by the protoplasm, if small, are drawn inwards from the periphery and are regularly digested in the THEORY OF FOOD-ABSORPTION. 57 interior. Such parts of foreign bodies as are not serviceable for nutrition are sub- sequently eliminated or are left behind by the protoplast as it creeps onward. But this method of food-absorption is limited to amceboid forms belonging to the . boundary-land of animal and vegetable life. The movements of other naked proto- plasts, such as those which are carried about in the water by vibratile cilia, have nothing to do with the search for food or with its absorption, but are connected rather with the processes of distribution and propagation. THEORY OF FOOD-ABSORPTION. In the case of protoplasts inclosed in cell-membranes the food necessary for nourishment must always pass through the cell-membrane and peripheral proto- plasmic layer (ectoplasm) into the interior of the protoplasmic bodies. And so, conversely, such of the substances absorbed as are of no use in the construction of the organism or for any other purpose, must be separated and passed out through these envelopes. The cell-membranes of those protoplasts which are employed in absorbing food must accordingly have a special structure: the ultimate particles must be so arranged as to allow of the passage of nutritious material inwards, and of rejected matter outwards, without prejudice to their own stability. The passages in cell-walls used for this purpose are very minute, much smaller at all events than the pore-canals described above as being occupied by fine protoplasmic filaments; the dimensions are in fact so trifling as to be invisible even with the best microscopes. Still we are forced to conclude that they exist by @ posteriori reasoning from a series of phenomena, and to assume that the cell- membrane, like almost every other kind of body, consists not of continuous matter, but of minute particles, which are termed atoms, and are separated from one another by infinitesimally small spaces. Various processes and appearances have also led physicists and chemists to the conclusion that these atoms are not aggre- gated in disorder, but are always combined together in groups of two or more, even in the case where all the atoms in a body are of the same kind, «ie. are the same element. If a body contains different elements they are not mixed together indiscriminately, but are grouped in conformity to a definite law: every group includes atoms of all the different elements concerned, arranged in a certain in- variable manner, not only as regards number, but also as regards relative position. Groups of atoms of this kind are called “ molecules,’ and the spaces between them are supposed to be larger than those between single atoms. Further, it is not improbable that the molecules themselves form groups, each group consisting of molecules conglomerated in a definite manner, and that the passages separating these molecular groups are larger again than those separating the single molecules within each group. These groups of molecules have been called “micelle” or Tagmata, and they also are supposed to be aggregated together in definite order. According to this theory the cell-membrane is analogous to a sieve, the pores of which are grouped in a definite manner, the broadest perforations being between 58 THEORY OF FOOD-ABSORPTION. the micelle or groups of molecules, narrower apertures between the molecules or groups of atoms in each micella, and lastly the finest pores between the atoms themselves in each molecule. These interspaces are liable to contraction and expansion, for the union of the molecules is affected by two forces, one of which manifests itself as a mutual attraction between atoms and atomic groups, whilst the other tends to drive atoms and molecules asunder. Of these forces the former, ae. the attractive force existing in all material particles, is called chemical affinity when it causes atoms of different kinds to unite to form a molecule; and it is called cohesion when applied to the mutual attraction of similar molecules, and adhesion where it holds together masses of molecular groups with their surfaces in contact. The action of heat is opposed to this attractive force, which is only effective at infinitesimal distances. Bodies are all caused to expand by heat, their atoms, mole- cules, and micelle being forced apart. Heat is believed to be a vibratory motion of these ultimate particles, and it is supposed that the greater the vibrations the greater is the separation of atoms and atomic groups, the interspaces expanding and the heated body increasing consequently in volume. As is well known, the atoms and molecules may be forced so far apart by increase of temperature that cohesion is entirely overcome, and solids are converted, first into liquids and at last into gases. The interspaces or passages between the molecules and molecular groups com- posing a cell-membrane are penetrable by molecules of other substances, provided always, firstly, that the admitted molecules are not larger than the passages; and secondly, that there exists between the molecules of the cell-wall and those of the penetrating body that sort of attractive force which has been designated chemical affinity. Both premises are satisfied in the case of aqueous molecules, and experi- ment proves that they are admitted into the inter-molecular spaces of a cell- membrane with great ease and readiness. The cell-membrane saturates itself with water, or, to use the technical phrase, it has the tendency and ability to “imbibe” water. The force of attraction between molecules of a cell-membrane and water- molecules is indeed so intense that the cohesion of the molecules in the membrane is partially neutralized, and the imbibed water causes them to move apart. In consequence of this, the cell-membrane swells up and its dimensions are increased. It is also supposed that the micelle of a cell-membrane attract and admit water- molecules to such an extent as to surround themselves with watery envelopes. Such a condition would no doubt be nothing but beneficial, promoting, as it would, the interchange of materials through the cell-membrane, and the mixing of fluid substances situated on either side of the porous membrane. At all events this mixing process must ensue in the interspaces of the cell-membrane; and, in the particular case out of which this discussion has arisen, viz. food-absorption, the interacting substances are, on the one hand, the compounds in the soil outside the cell-membrane, and, on the other, the organic compounds under the control of the live protoplast within the cell-membrane. Both the outgoing and the in- coming substances must be soluble in water, and must, therefore, have an attraction THEORY OF FOOD-ABSORPTION. 59 for water. But the power of a substance in aqueous solution, whether without or within the cell-membrane, to permeate the saturated pores, and to mix thoroughly there, certainly depends also on the degree of chemical affinity and of adhesion existing between the molecules and micelle of the cell-membrane on the one hana, and these infiltrating substances on the other. A very complex interaction of forces takes place which we cannot here investigate any further, as it would take us much too far afield. Returning to the explanation of food-absorption, attention must be drawn to the fact that the mixing or diffusion which takes place through the cell-membrane differs from the free diffusion which would occur if the cell-membrane were not present. Experiment has proved that if one side of a cell-membrane is steeped in a saline solution and the other in an equal volume of pure water, the number of saline particles which pass through into the water are many fewer than the number of water-particles which pass into the solution of salt; and, moreover, if an organic compound, such as albumen or dextrin, is on one side, and water on the other, water transfuses to the organic compound, whereas no trace of the albumen or dextrin (as the case may be) passes through to the water. Now this phenomenon, which is called “osmosis” (“endosmosis and exosmosis”), is of great importance for the conception we have to form of food-absorption. It is clear that, whilst water and substances dissolved in water are brought under the control of the protoplast within a cell through the cell-membrane, as a consequence of the action of albuminous and other compounds constituting the body of the protoplast, and of the salts dissolved in the so-called cell-sap in the vacuoles, there is no necessity for any part of the cell-content to pass out through the cell-membrane. Thus the protoplasm is able to exercise an absorptive action on aqueous solutions outside the cell-membrane, and to continue to absorb until the cell is filled. Indeed, the chemical affinity for water possessed by the substances in a cell may occasion so great an absorption of water that, in consequence, the volume of the cell is enlarged and the cell-membrane is subjected to pressure from within. The cell- membrane is able to yield to this pressure to the extent permitted by its elasticity, but excessive stretching of the cell-membrane is at length counteracted by cohesion, and thus a condition is attained in which the cell-contents and the cell-membrane are subjected to mutual pressure, a state which is called “turgidity.” The process just described, of the absorption of water in large quantities into the precincts of the protoplasm without any simultaneous transmission of matter to the outside, is certainly in no respect an exchange. But it obviously does not exclude the possibility of a real exchange taking place between substances on either side of a cell-membrane, 7.e. between solutions in the soil and those in the cell- sap contained in lacune of the protoplasm. Certain phenomena in fact put it beyond doubt that on occasion a real exchange of this kind does occur. But it is complicated by the circumstance that substances in process of being exchanged have to pass not only through the cell-membrane but also through the primordial utricle; and the primordial utricle consists of molecules of a kind other than 60 NUTRIENT GASES. those of the cell-wall, having different chemical affinities, and these molecules again are differently grouped; nor are the passages for aqueous solutions the same. All this cannot but have an important bearing on the permeating capacity of the substances that are being interchanged. Although all these ideas concerning the molecular structure of cell-membranes and of protoplasm, concerning the intermixture and exchange of materials and the absorption on the part of cells and their swelling up, have only the value of theories, still we have good ground for assuming that they are fairly near the truth. They give us, at all events, an intelligible representation of the inter- action which takes place between living protoplasts, with their need for food, and the environment, which supplies the nutriment. 2. ABSORPTION OF INORGANIC SUBSTANCES. Nutrient Gases.—Nutrient Salts.—Absorption of Nutrient Salts by Water-plants, Stone-plants, and Land-plants.—Relations between the position of Foliage-leaves and Absorption-roots. NUTRIENT GASES. One of the most important sources of the nourishment of plants is carbonic acid. The living protoplasts appropriate it from water and from air, in the latter case chiefly by attracting the carbon-dioxide.1 This gas penetrates a cell-wall satur- ated with water more readily than the other constituent gases of the atmosphere (nitrogen and oxygen). In the wall it is converted into carbonic acid, and it then passes on into the cell-sap contained in the cavities of the protoplast. Apart from the effects of temperature and atmospheric pressure, the quantity of carbonic acid absorbed is chiefly determined by the requirements of the cells whose nourish- ment is in question. These requirements, however, vary considerably according to the specific constitution of the protoplasm and with the time of day. During daylight the need of carbon is very great in all green plants. As soon as the carbonic acid reaches the cell-sap it is decomposed and reduced by the action of sunlight, and from it are formed compounds known as carbo-hydrates. The oxygen thus set free is, however, removed from the cell precincts, and expelled into the surrounding air or water. In this way the gas when barely absorbed is withdrawn, as such, from the cell-sap, the carbon alone being retained and the oxygen eliminated, and a renewed attraction of carbon-dioxide from the sur- rounding medium ensues. The fresh supply again is immediately worked up in the green chlorophyll-bodies, so that there is a constant influx of carbon-dioxide, and therefore indirectly of carbonic acid, from the environment into the interior of green cells to the part where its consumption takes place. Were it possible to see 1 The atmosphere contains free carbon-dioxide and not carbonic acid. But carbonic acid is formed when the dioxide is absorbed into water. NUTRIENT GASES. 61 the molecules of carbon-dioxide in the air, we should observe how much faster they are impelled towards the leaves and other green parts of plants, where the intense craving for carbon is localized, than are the other constituent particles of the air. This impulsion and influx lasts so long as the green cells are under the influence of daylight. The first thing in the morning when the first ray of sunshine falls upon a plant the protoplasts begin work in their little laboratories decomposing carbonic acid, and producing from it sugar, starch, and other similar organic compounds. And it is not till the sun sets that this work is suspended, and the influx of carbon- dioxide stopped till the following morning. The green plants that spend all their lives under water are supplied with car- bonic acid by the water surrounding their cells, which always contains some of that material. In the case of unicellular plants of this class, absorption of carbonic acid takes place through the whole surface of the cell-membrane. Maulticellular plants, with their cells arranged in filaments or plates, only take in carbonic acid through those parts of the walls of their cells which are in immediate contact with the water. This applies also to submerged plants composed of several layers of cells and of considerable dimensions. Thus, in plants of this kind, the cells in contact with the water constitute the skin. They are always pressed closely together and squeezed flat, are not thickened on the side exposed to the water, and are united everywhere edge to edge leaving no gaps. But in the interior of these water-plants large lacunsz and cavities are formed from earliest youth, owing to the detachment of single rows of cells, and the spaces so formed are filled with a quantity of nitrogen, oxygen, and carbon-dioxide, that is to say, with a gaseous mixture not essentially different from atmospheric air. Although this organiza- tion may have as its primary object the reduction of the plant’s weight as a whole, it cannot be without a further importance inasmuch as carbonic acid can be taken up from the air-spaces into adjacent cells. But there is no doubt that, even in this case (of water-plants provided with large internal air-cavities), the chief absorption of carbonic acid is through the epidermis, or more precisely through those walls of the epidermal cells which are in immediate contact with the water. The carbonic acid taken up by cells, wholly or partially immersed in water, is either contained as such dissolved in the watery medium, or occurs in com- bination with calcium as bicarbonate of lime. Part of the carbonic acid in this bicarbonate in aqueous solution is susceptible of being withdrawn by water-plants, mono-carbonate of lime, which is insoluble in water, being then precipitated on the cell-wall through which the rest of the carbonic acid has passed into the cell-interior. Accordingly, a large number of water-plants are found incrusted with lime in both fresh and salt water. We shall return to this important pheno- menon when we treat of the influence of living plants on that part of the environ- ment which comes within their sphere of action for purposes of nutrition. Lithophytes obtain carbonic acid from the moisture deposited upon them from the aqueous vapour in the atmosphere, and attract carbon-dioxide direct from the 62 - NUTRIENT GASES air around them. The chief members of this class are those mosses, liverworts, and lichens which, though clinging to dry rocks, behave just like water-plants as regards the absorption of carbonic acid. There is no reason to think that these plants absorb carbonic acid in dry weather; for under the influence of dry air they lose water fast, and meanwhile receive no compensation from the rock to which they are attached, and in a short time they become so dry that they crumble into powder when rubbed between the fingers. Vitality is suspended for a time, and it is out of the question that there should be any absorption of carbon-dioxide from the atmosphere under such circumstances. But the moment the plant is moistened by rain or dew, the cell-walls directly exposed to the air become saturated, and are enabled to admit water into the interior. Then the lithophytes suck up water very fast; the dry, apparently dead, incrustations swell up again, and, together with the rain and dew, carbonic acid is absorbed, it being contained in all depositions of atmospheric moisture. A tumescent moss tuft can, in addi- tion, absorb carbon-dioxide direct from the atmosphere through its saturated superficial cells; but the quantity of carbonic acid thus acquired by a plant is in any case only secondary. Many mosses, as for example the widely-distributed Grim- mia apocarpa, are also able to live just as well under water as in air; nor is any alteration of their leaves necessary in either condition, nor any special contrivance for the absorption of carbonic acid and water. These substances reach the interior by similar passage through cell-walls of identical construction, whether the Grimmia spends its life attached to submerged rocks or in the open air at the top of a mountain; whence we may infer that there is a greater resemblance between lithophytes and water-plants as regards nutrition than between litho- phytes and land-plants. Land-plants satisfy their need of carbon almost exclusively by withdrawing the dioxide from atmospheric air. For the purpose of this direct appropriation, specially adapted structures are found in them. Seeing that these plants are not able to endure periodic desiccation in times of drought, as lithophytes are, it is necessary for them to be secured against excessive loss of water. Accord- ingly, the cell-walls in immediate contact with the air, that is to say, the outer walls of the epidermis, are thickened by a layer (cuticle) which is impermeable by air or water, and, in general, they are so organized that water cannot readily escape from the interior of the cells. Obviously, however, a cell-wall which opposes a strong resistance to the extravasation of water will not give easy admittance to an influx either, and the conditions for the passage of gases through a cell-membrane, thickened and cuticularized in this way, would be far from favourable. As a matter of fact many of the constituent gases of the atmosphere permeate these thickened walls of the epidermal cells only with great difficulty, and others not at all. Carbon-dioxide alone has the power of penetrating, but even in the case of this gas the quantity is not always sufficient to satisfy the demand. To ensure that so important a form of plant-food should reach in proper amount those cells lying under the epidermis, which are occupied by protoplasts engaged in the regu- NUTRIENT GASES. 63 lation of nutrition, there is an adaptation of structure of the following nature. Among the firmly connected epidermal cells with their thickened outer walls al- most impervious to air, other cells are interspersed at intervals. They are always in pairs, are generally rather smaller than the rest, and have a little cleft open between them. Inasmuch as these apertures (stomata) always exist where passages and canals, the so-called intercellular spaces, have arisen from the separation of individual cells of the sub-epidermal tissues, each stoma constitutes the mouth of a system of channels ramifying between the thin-walled cells of the interior. The components of the atmosphere, especially carbon-dioxide, are able to reach these internal passages through the stomata, and in them they travel to the chlorophyll- containing cells. Through the thin, saturated walls of these cells they are able to penetrate with ease, and so they reach the living protoplasts, with their equipment of chlorophyll, whose daily work it is, as already mentioned, to decompose—under the transforming power of light—the carbonic acid as it reaches the chlorophyll- bodies, to work up the carbon and expel by the same path as they entered not only the oxygen but also all other aerial constituents which may have penetrated and for the moment find no employment. These ventilation-canals, with stomata as orifices at the epidermis, have other uses besides the importation of carbon-dioxide (and therefore of carbonic acid) and the exportation of oxygen. For the same pores, passages, and lacune, as serve for the influx and exit of carbon-dioxide and oxygen respectively, are the channels of a plant’s respiration. Moreover, they play a very important part also in the escape of aqueous vapour, the process known as “transpiration;” and as the variety in their structure is to be interpreted chiefly as an adaptation to the different condi- tions under which transpiration occurs, it cannot be profitably discussed until we treat of that process. Those saprophytes and parasites which contain no chlorophyll or practically none, do not absorb any free carbon-dioxide from the atmosphere, but supply them- selves with carbon from the organic compounds in the nutrient substratum on which they grow. But saprophytes and parasites, abundantly furnished with chlorophyll, doubtless do attract free carbon-dioxide in addition. They may do so either after the manner of water-plants and lithophytes, as is the case with Euglene, and with mosses growing on the dung of mammalia; or else after the manner of land-plants, as instances of which the cow-wheat, yellow-rattle, and eye-bright may be quoted. It is a very remarkable fact that no plant is known which takes up carbon- dioxide or carbonic acid from the earth. One might expect that the roots of land- plants at any rate, ramifying as they do in a stratum of earth saturated with water containing carbonic acid in solution, would suck up to some extent so important a food, and that it would be from them conducted to the green-foliage leaves. But so far as experiments have gone, they indicate that this is not the case. Equally curious is the circumstance that nitrogen, which is an indispensable constituent of protoplasm, and therefore a very important means of subsistence, is 64 NUTRIENT GASES. not absorbed from the surrounding air, although, as is well known, the atmosphere contains nitrogen to the amount of 79 per cent of its volume. There can be no doubt that though nitrogen permeates the cell-walls of an air-encompassed plant much less readily and quickly than carbon-dioxide, yet it is carried from the atmos- phere into the ventilation-spaces of green foliage-leaves, and further through the thin cell-walls into the laboratories of the protoplasts, where one would expect it to be worked up in the same way as carbonic acid. The most careful experiments have determined, however, that it is not turned to account in this form by the proto- plasts, but that on the contrary it is given back unused to the air, and only such nitrogen as reaches the interior of plants in combination with other substances 1s of any service there. The principal sources of the nitrogen required by plants are nitrates and ammoniacal compounds absorbed from the ground; but nitric acid and ammonia themselves, of which there are traces in the atmosphere and in water, must not be overlooked. The quantity of nitric acid in air is, it is true, even less than that of carbon-dioxide; but just as the small amount of carbon-dioxide can be absorbed from the air with highly productive results, so may also the still smaller proportion of nitric acid be turned to account. The sources of nitric acid are dead organic bodies as they decompose and become oxidized. In many ways the process of formation of nitric acid from decaying bodies may take place so as to produce ammonia in the first place and from it nitric acid. It would seem possible, though it is an unproved assumption, that in places where dead bodies of plants and animals vegetable mould, manure, and such things are undergoing oxidation, that is to say, in woods and fields, the small quantities of nitric acid that are given off are imme- diately taken up by the plants growing there. It must be borne in mind that plants behave with reference to what is necessary or useful to them like a chancellor of the exchequer preparing his budget; they take these things where they find them. The question has been raised, too, as to the source from which the first plants that appeared on the earth were able to obtain nitric acid. We are obliged to assume that, at that time before the existence of nitrogenous organisms to supply nitric acid by oxidation of their dead bodies, all nitric acid, and therefore all the nitrogen used in the nourishment of plants, was generated by thunder-storms. We know that nitric acid is formed in the air on occasion of electric discharges and is deposited on the earth together with rain and dew. This source of nitric acid is not yet exhausted, and even at the present day it no doubt plays the same part as in the ages long past at the commencement of all vegetable life. If nitric acid is used by protoplasts, in the building up of the highly important albuminous compounds, it is broken up in a manner similar to the decomposition of carbonic acid to form carbohydrates, that is to say, oxygen is separated out. In this case, however, sunlight and, therefore, chiorophyll are not immediately con- cerned. Moreover, the oxygen that is set free is not eliminated, but is used in the manufacture of other compounds in process of formation in the plant, probably in that of vegetable acids. NUTRIENT GASES. 65 Ammonia behaves in relation to plants just in the same way as carbon-dioxide and nitric acid. It is disengaged from dead decomposing organic bodies, and is found in traces, either alone or with equally minute quantities of carbon-dioxide and carbonic and nitric acids in the air, in atmospheric deposits, and in all water wherein animals and plants reproduce their kind, the old individuals dying and making way for the young. Water-plants are all limited to this source for acquisi- tion of nitrogen. As regard lithophytes, it stands to reason that they must derive their nitrogen from the ammonia contained in the air, in atmospheric deposits, and from nitric acid. Whence otherwise could a crustaceous lichen attached to a quartz rock on a mountain supply itself with the nitrogen essential for the growth of its protoplasm? Moreover, some of the larger lithophytes, especially mosses, seem to be capable of absorbing ammonia direct from the air. An observation made in the Tyrolese Alps has some bearing on this question:—The ridges of the Hammerspitze, a peak rising to 2600 meters between the Stubaithal and the Gschnitzthal, is, in favourable weather in the summer, the resting-place of hun- dreds of sheep, and is consequently covered with an entire crust of the excrements of these animals. A highly offensive and pungent smell of ammonia is evolved, and renders a prolonged stay on this spot anything but pleasant, notwithstanding the beauty of the view. Now, it is worthy of note that the mosses, which are produced. in abundance on the rocks above this richly-manured ground, but are not them- selves actually amongst the sheep-droppings, exhibit a luxuriance unparalleled on any of the neighbouring summits belonging to the same formation but unfre- quented by sheep. The gaily-coloured green carpet extends as far as the ammo- niacal odour is perceptible, and it is natural to suppose that this luxuriant growth is stimulated by the absorption of ammonia direct from the air. Land-plants also can take up ammonia from the air. It has been shown that. the glandular hairs of many plants, for instance those on the leaves of Pelargonium and of the Chinese Primrose, have the power of absorbing traces of ammonia, and of sucking up carbonate and nitrate of ammonia in water with rapidity. When we coasider that a single one of these primroses (Primula sinensis) possesses two and a half millions of absorbent glandular hairs so placed as to be able to take up the ammonia brought to the plant by rain, we are unable to look upon this process as. of altogether trifling importance. It is highly probable that almost all ammonia, after its formation from decaying substances in the ground, is at once absorbed by the plants growing in the immediate neighbourhood, and that the relatively small quantity of ammonia in the upper atmospheric strata 1s referrible to this cause. The splendid luxuriance of the pelargoniums, thickly studded with glandular hairs, which one sees in front of cottage windows in mountain villages where a dung heap is close by, and in the windows of stables, frequently excites admiration and surprise. Whether it is due to the fact that in these situations there is the possi- bility of absorbing an unusually large quantity of ammonia is a question which we will leave undecided. Vot. I. 6 66 NUTRIENT SALTS. NUTRIENT SALTS. If wood, leaves, seeds, or any other parts of plants are subjected to a high temperature with free access of air, the first changes that occur are in the com- pounds of nitrogen and of carbon contained in the heated matter. They turn black, are charred and burnt, and ultimately the products of combustion pass into the atmosphere in gaseous condition. The incombustible part which remains behind is called the “ash.” The quantity of this ash, as well as its composition, varies very much in different species of plants, and even in different parts of the same plant. Generally the weight of ash is only one or two per cent of the entire weight of the plant in a dry state before burning. The greatest relative proportion of ash is that which is obtained from the combustion of those hydrophytes which live in the sea; and next in quantity is the ash of the family of Oraches which abound on salt-steppes. On the other hand, the smallest quantity is that afforded by fungi and mosses, by Sphagnum in particular, and with these must be mentioned the tropical orchids living on the barks of trees. Seeds and wood yield relatively much less ash than leaves. But, as above remarked, some ash is formed upon the combustion of any part of a plant or even of a single cell, and this residue of ash sometimes allows of our recognizing exactly the size, form, and outline of the cells. The universal distribution of ash-forming constituents permits us to conclude with certainty that they do not exist fortuitously in plants, but are essential to them. That these constituents are indispensable may also be proved directly. If an attempt is made to nourish a plant on filtered air and distilled water exclusively, the plant soon dies; but if a small quantity of the constituents of its ash are added to the distilled water in which the roots are immersed, the plant grows visibly in the solution, and develops leaves and flowers and even seeds capable of germination. Experiments of this kind with cultures have been the means of almost com- pletely establishing the division between those constituents which are indispensable for all plants, and those which are only necessary under certain conditions and to particular species, or, still less, only beneficial. Those elements must be regarded as essential, which are used by plants for the process of construction, and enter into the composition of the protoplasm or of the cell-membrane—such, for instance as are essential constituents of proteid substances, or are in some way necessary to the formation of these products. Amongst these must be included sulphur, phosphorus, potassium, calcium, and magnesium. Some plants, especially those that live in the sea, require sodium, iodine and chlorine, and, for green plants, iron is necessary. Silicon is also very important for most plants in helping them to flourish in the wild state. Most of these elements are taken into a plant, in the covrse of nutrition, in a condition of extreme oxidation, that is to say in combina- tion with a quantity of oxygen; in fact, as a general rule, they are absorbed in the form of salts, and we may for the sake of brevity include all the mineral food- stuffs under the name of nutrient salts or food-salts. NUTRIENT SALTS. 67 It is obvious that food-salts can only pass through cell-membranes and reach the interior of a plant in a state of solution. On this account the soluble sul- phates, phosphates, nitrates and chlorides of calcium, magnesium, potassium and iron, may pre-eminently be called food-salts. Whether an essential element is absorbed by a plant in the form of one of these compounds or another appears to be unimportant; phosphorus, for example, may be proffered by the soil in the form either of potassium phosphate or of sodium phosphate, with like results. As regards the importance of sulphur to plants, it is at any rate established that it is necessary for the production of proteid substances. Phosphorus appears to be indispensable in the transformation of certain compounds of nitrogen. Potassium is supposed to play a part in the formation of starch. Calcium is introduced into plants in combination with sulphuric acid as calcium sulphate. This salt is decom- posed, the lime combining with oxalic acid to form insoluble calcium oxalate, and the sulphur going to form the sulphuric acid which is used in the construction of albuminous substances or proteids. Lime is therefore important, inasmuch as it is a medium of transport for sulphur. Iron certainly participates in the forma- tion of chlorophyll, even if it does not enter into its composition, as was formerly supposed. For, it has been proved, by means of artificial cultures, that plants reared in solutions free from iron were white instead of green, and died at last; whereas, after the addition of a small quantity of a soluble iron salt, such plants became green in a very short time, and were able to continue their development. The utility of most of these elements does not therefore appear to consist necessarily in their entering into the composition of organic compounds, but in the promotion and regulation of the constructive and destructive chemical processes. Silicie acid, which occurs so plentifully in the ash of many plants as to con- stitute often more than 50 per cent, has a different function. If the minute unicellular water-plants known as Diatoms are incinerated, or if stems of Equisetum, Juniper-needles, or leaves of grasses, &c., are subjected to a red heat, white skeletons remain behind which consist almost entirely of silicic acid, and exhibit not only the forms of the cells, but even the finest sculpturing of the cell-walls. In par- ticular, the stiff hairs on the leaves of grasses are preserved, and better still the cell-membranes of diatoms. The latter present very beautiful forms with their outlines quite distinct, and many structural properties of the cell-membranes, especially their moulding, striation, and the dots and other exerescences are to be seen much more clearly after than before ignition, when the transparency was less owing to the protoplast occupying the interior of each cell. In order to describe exactly the very varied form of Diatomacez, specimens are carefully and thor- oughly ignited, and the descriptions and illustrations of these microscopic plants are for the most part made from siliceous skeletons prepared in this way. These skeletons show clearly that silicic acid occurs only in the cell-membrane, and plays no part as constituent of any chemical compound in the protoplasm; nor does it appear to be instrumental in the formation of any such compound. The molecules of silicic acid are so closely packed and so evenly distributed amongst the mole- 68 NUTRIENT SALTS. cules of cellulose that, even after the removal of the latter, the entire structure is preserved in outline and in detail. They form, therefore, a regular coat of mail which may be looked upon as a means of protection against certain injurious ex- ternal influences. For a large number of plants living in the sea, sodium, iodine, and bromine also are of especial importance as food-stuffs. How far fluorine, manganese, lithium, and various other metals, which have been detected in the ash of some plants, are of use is not determined, for our knowledge is particularly incomplete with respect to the various uses subserved in nutrition and growth by the different mineral food-stuffs. It is worthy of note that alumina, which is so widely distributed and easily accessible to plants, is only very rarely absorbed. The ash of Lycopodiwm is the only kind in which this substance has been identified with certainty in any considerable quantities. Lastly, amongst the sources of elements contained in the food-salts, we must consider the solid crust of the earth. But it is only in the case of comparatively few vegetable organisms that this earth-crust forms the immediate foster-soil. The majority derive the salts that nourish them from the products of the weather- ing of rocks, from refuse and the decaying remains of dead animals and plants, which, in decomposing, give back their mineral substances to the ground, from underground waters that filter through fissures in rocks and through the interstices of sandy or clayey soils soaking with lye, the adjacent parts of the earth’s crust, and, lastly, from the water of springs, streams, ponds, and lakes, which have come to the surface holding salts in solution, as also from sea-water with its rich supply of salts. The very salts that are needed by most plants are amongst the most widely distributed on the earth’s surface. The sulphates of calcium and of magnesium, for example, and salts of iron, potassium, &c., are found almost everywhere in the earth, and in water, whether subterranean or superficial. At the same time it is very striking that these mineral food-salts are not introduced into plants by any means in proportion to the quantity in which they are contained in the soil, but that, on the contrary, plants possess the power of selecting from the abundance of provisions at their disposal only those that are good for them and in such quantity as is serviceable. This selective capacity of plants is manifested in many ways, and we will now briefly consider some of the most important of them. In the first place we have the fact that plants reared close together in the same soil or medium may yet exhibit an altogether different composition of ash. This is particularly striking in water and bog-plants, which, though rooted in close proximity and immersed in the same water, show very considerable differences in respect of mineral food absorbed. The result, for instance, of testing specimens of the Water-soldier (Stratiotes aloides), the White Water-lily (Nymphea alba), a species of Stone-wort (Chara fotida), and the Reed (Phragmites communis), all growing close together in a swamp, was as follows as regarded the potash, soda, lime, and silicic acid, held by them respectively :— NUTRIENT SALTS. 69 Water-soldier. Water-lily. Stone-wort. Reed. Botash yevacoccritares se sa tavecsvarseacseceees 30°82 14:4 02 8°6 Soda, Deanne Be 2°7 29°66 O1 04 Lime,........ 10°7 18-9 54°8 59 Silicic Acid,... 18 05 03 715 | The other constituents of the ash of these plants, in particular iron oxide, mag- nesia, and phosphoric and sulphuric acids, exhibited less marked differences; but the equality in the amounts of potash, soda, lime and silicic acid are so great, as only to be explicable on the assumption of a power of selection on the part of these plants. Various species of brown and red sea-weeds, which had been attached to the same rock and developed in the same sea-water, showed similar variations - in the composition of their ash. On the mountains of serpentine rock near Gurhof, in Lower Austria, specimens of Biscutella levigata and Dorycnium decumbens were collected from plants growing together, and one above the other, upon a declivity which they clothed. Their roots, interlaced here and there, were fixed in the same ground, and drew nourishment from the same store. The following table gives the composition of the ash in these two species:— Biscutella Dorycnium Biscutella Dorycnium levigata. decumbens. levigata, decumbens. Potashipe.stes cess 9°6 16°7 Silicie Acid,........... 13:0 6:3 IDI) Boemuasaemasance 14°7 20°9 Sulphur, ........-s00s 52 16 Magnesia, ........... 28°0 19°6 Phosphorus,........... 15:9 22°3 Tron Oxide,......... 78 2°8 Carbonic Acid,....... 5:4 97 The differences here seem to be not so great as in the case of the water-plants previously given, but they are sufficient to prevent our regarding them as merely the result of chance. If, on the other hand, we compare the composition of the ash of different specimens of the same species, which have been reared on similar soils, but at great distances from one another, the discrepancies are comparatively slight. Foliage from beech-trees growing on the limestone mountains near Regensburg yielded an ash practically identical with that obtained from leaves of beeches on the Bakonyer-Wald hills in Hungary. The ash of different individuals of a single species even exhibits the same constitution, in the main, when those individual plants have obtained their nutriment from soils differing greatly in chemical composition. Only in cases where the quantity of a substance in one soil is more abundant than in the other there is generally a greater or less amount of it to be found in the ash. That under these circumstances certain substances may replace one another is not improbable. But such substitution must be confined to those nearly allied com- pounds whose molecules are capable of being used indifferently by the formative 70 NUTRIENT SALTS. protoplasm in construction, and in the storage of materials. The annexed table, which gives side by side analyses of the ash of branches of the Yew (Taxus baccata) with their leaves attached, illustrates the replacement of calcium by magnesium :— Ash from branches and leaves of the Yew from Serpentine. Limestone. Gneiss. SilicievA cid teairersivecesseac eee aa tees aes eee es 3°8 36 37 SulphuricsA cid ser serarcc-ec ac seearcerecre serene 19 16 19 iPhosphoricvA cide; sccutesesceccmcseecsonsaeceee 8:3 55 42 Tron! Oxide. sere eicie suse cnteoe ce eweca tenes 21 17 06 J BIRT hacen ameviceme eReader rar Nea GaCRRTER Orie aaC een 161 ‘ 36°1 F 30°6 Magnesia, BBR ROS oR DEB ache Aniaenn anu aHenaurn CoMeDCAG 22°7 38'8 51 ele 57 ae Po tashre scare sarcecu twice smi e ent teen ee 29°6 21°8 27°6 CarbonicsA cid xe. tae iasoscas oreo eeeaneee | 141 23°1 24°4 Traces of Manganese, Chlorine, Se pota| — —— = Potalssiasc.csccsencecoors | 99°6 | 98°5 98°7 | The Yew occurs in Central Europe on very various mountain formations, chiefly on limestone, but not infrequently on gneiss, and occasionally on serpentine rocks. On comparing the quantities of calcium and of magnesium in the ash of yews, grown on lime and on gneiss respectively, with those yielded in the case of serpentine for- mation, we find that magnesia preponderates considerably in weight over lime in a yew from serpentine rocks (which are in the main a compound of magnesia and silicic acid), whilst the proportion between these two salts is reversed in a yew grown upon limestone. The obvious inference from the table is that, in plants from a serpentine ground, lime is to a great extent replaced by magnesia. This is fur- ther supported by the circumstance that if lime and magnesia are counted together the resulting numbers are very near one another, namely 41:2 per cent of the ash for limestone, 388 per cent for serpentine rock, and 36°3 per cent for gneiss. But all these phenomena observed in connection with the selection of food-salts are not nearly so surprising as the fact that plants are also capable of singling out from an abundance of other matter particular substances, which are of impor- tance to them, even from a soil containing them in barely perceptible quantities, and of concentrating them to a certain extent. As has been shown above, nearly a third of the ash of the white water-lily is composed of common salt. One might, therefore, suppose that the water in which water-lilies flourish contains a particu- larly large quantity of common salt. But nothing of the kind is the case. The bog water which bathed the stem and leaves of this specimen only contained 0:335 per cent of common salt, and the mud through which the roots straggled contained only 0:010 per cent. No less astonishing is it to find Diatomacez, with cell-membranes, as above mentioned, sheathed in silicic acid, existing in water which contains no trace of silicic acid. Above the Arzler Alp, in the Solstein chain near Innsbruck, there is a spring of cold water which falls in little cascades between blocks of rock. The NUTRIENT SALTS. 7i water of this spring is hard, and it deposits lime at a little distance from the source. Exactly at the spot where it wells out of a fissure in the rock its bed is entirely filled by a dark-brown flocculent mass which consists of millions of cells of the beautiful Odontidiwm hiemale, a species of diatom with siliceous coating. These cells are ranged together in long rows, and are present in numbers and luxuriance such as are scarcely ever to be observed in other situations. Yet the spring water flowing round contains so little silicic acid that no trace of this substance could be discovered in the residue from the evaporation of 10 litres. An instance similar to this of silicic acid, is afforded by the iodine in the sea. Most of the sea-wracks inhabiting the North Sea contain iodine, many indeed in considerable quantity, and yet we have not hitherto succeeded in detecting iodine in the water of the North Sea. Similar phenomena, sometimes quite baffling explana- tion, are exhibited by land-plants. The clefts in the rocks of quartziferous slate in the Central Alps are, in many places, overgrown by saxifrages (Sawifraga Sturmiana and Saaifraga oppositifolia) with leaves aggregated together in closely-crowded rosettes, which are conspicuous from afar, owing to their pale colouring. On closer inspection one finds that the apices and edges of these rosulate leaves are covered with little incrustations of carbonate of lime, a substance which will be frequently referred to in connection with its importance to plants. But one seeks in vain for any lime compound in the earth which fills the clefts, and the only traces of lime contained in the adjacent rock itself are those occurring in the little scales of mica scattered about, and these are not readily decomposable. Yet the lime incrusting the saxifrage leaves can only be derived from the underlying rock, just as in former instances the silicic acid in the cell-membranes of diatoms must be secreted from the spring described, the iodine in sea-weeds from the sea, and the common salt in water-lilies from the pond where they grow, although in each case the substance concerned is only to be found, if at all, in scarcely ponder- able traces in the soil or liquid serving as medium. Facts of this kind have a special interest, because they prove that plants have the power of appropriating a substance, if it is important to them, even when it is only present in extremely minute quantities. Where a plant is surrounded by liquid, we can well imagine that fresh portions of the medium are constantly coming into contact with its surface; for, even in water apparently still, compensating currents are con- tinually being caused by changes of temperature. Thus, in the course of a day, thousands of litres of sea-water may flow over a sea-weed with a surface of one square meter, and, even if only a small portion of the substance, traces of which we are supposing to exist in the water, is wrested from each litre, still, the absorbing plant might collect quite a profitable quantity in a number of days. The volume of water flowing over a plant situated in the source of a spring is still greater, and it is readily conceivable that even the most minute trace of silicic acid may become of account in course of time. There is more difficulty in understanding how plants with roots in the earth set about utilizing substances contained in the soil in scarcely appreciable quantities. These plants 72 NUTRIENT SALTS. must at all events come into contact with as great a mass of nutrient soil as possible, and this is effected by means of a widely-ramifying system of roots; and, in addition, they must assist in making available desirable matter in the soil by the elimination from themselves of certain substances. In order to explain the remarkable power that plants possess of exercising a choice in the absorption of certain food-stuffs from amongst the whole number presented to them, we must in the first place assume a special structure to exist in the cells which are in immediate contact with the nutrient medium. To reach the interior of a cell, the salts must pass through the cell-membrane and the so-called ectoplasm. We may look upon these walls, that are to be pene- trated, as filters, or, to abide by our previous simile, as sieves, which allow only certain kinds of molecules to pass and arrest others. Moreover, just as the structure of a sieve, especially the size and shape of its pores, has its effect in the separation of the particles of the matter sifted, so also may the structure of a cell-wall have a discriminating influence in the absorption of food-salts. It may be supposed that the cell-wall in one species of plant acts as a sieve capable of letting through molecules of potash but none of alumina, whilst the cell-wall in a second species allows molecules of alumina to pass as well, but is impervious to those of chloride of sodium. This hypothesis would also explain why the absorp- tion of food-stuffs by plants generally takes place through cell-walls, and why absorption into the organs concerned by means of open tubes, which would be at all events a much simpler method, is not preferred. It is, however, necessary to investigate first the nature of the force which causes molecules of the various salts to move from the soil to the cell-membranes, which we suppose to be like sieves, and through them into the interior of a plant. A force acting in this sense from without is inconceivable, and we must therefore look for the motive stimulus in the plant itself. As has been already stated in connection with the absorption of carbonic acid, it is believed that the cause of this movement is the disturbance of the molecular equilibrium in the growing vegetable organism. If at one spot in the protoplasm of a cell a particular substance is altered, and, let us say, converted into an insoluble compound, the previous grouping of molecules appears to be altered, or in other words, the molecular equilibrium is disturbed. To restore equilibrium, there must be a re-introduction of molecules of the material that has been removed; and the attraction of them from the quarter where they occur in a fluid, that is to say in a mobile condition, is the more energetic. Supposing, for instance, gypsum (ve. sulphate of lime) is being decomposed within a cell, and the lime combines with the oxalic acid (set free in the same cell) to form insoluble oxalate of lime, whilst the sulphur combines with other elements to form insoluble albuminoids, this use of the gypsum occasions a violent attraction of that sub- stance from the environment, or, to put it another way, it causes a movement of gypsum towards the place of consumption. If this latter place is a cell in imme- diate contact with the nutrient substratum, the absorption of the substance NUTRIENT SALTS. 73 attracted is direct; but if the cell in which the material is used up is separated from the substratum by intervening cells, the attraction must act through all those cells upon it. The substance consumed must be taken in the first place from the cell adjoining the consuming cell on the side towards the periphery; this cell again must take it from its neighbour, which is still nearer the periphery, and so on until the external cells themselves exercise their influence upon the nutrient sub- stratum. Thus, one may regard the growing cells in which substances are used up, as centres of attraction with respect to those substances. This also explains why it is that the influx of food-salts takes place only so long as the plant is grow- ing; and we see, too, that the direction of the current must vary according to the position of the growing cells, and according to the degree of their constructive activity. But that one plant prefers one substance and another another—that one species attracts iodine, a second sodium, and a third iron—can only be interpreted as a result of the specific constitution of the protoplasm. The protoplasm of a growing cell which contains no iodine does not require that substance either, for the pro- cesses of transmutation and storage. A protoplast of this kind will not therefore be a centre of attraction for iodine, but will draw from the environment with great force substances which are its essential constituents. Having gained this conception of the absorption and selection of food-salts, we are able to imagine the possibility of a substance being sought after by one species whilst acting as poison on another. [Iodine itself exercises a prejudicial effect on many plants, even when present in very small quantities. Cell-membranes in immediate contact with a medium containing iodine are modified as regards their structure by the iodine: their pores are enlarged, lose their value as orifices adapted to the admit- tance of certain food-salts in limited quantities, and they no longer prevent the influx of injurious substances. Ultimately they die, and by so doing the entire plant suffers. On the other hand, plants to which iodine is an indispensable constituent are not hurt in any way by the presence of small quantities of this substance in the nutrient medium: their cell-membranes are neither paralysed nor destroyed, and suction is able to take place through them in a perfectly normal manner. But we must in this case specially emphasize the condition of the amount being small, for a larger quantity of this substance is positively injurious even to plants which require iodine. The general rule for a great number of plants is that they thrive best when the food-salts necessary to them are supplied in very dilute solutions. An increase in the quantity of the salts administered not only fails to promote development, but, on the contrary, arrests it. This is the result even if the salts are such as are absolutely necessary in small quantities to the plants in question. A very minute amount of an iron salt is indispensable to all green plants; but, if a certain measure is exceeded, iron salts have a destructive effect on the cell-membranes and protopiasm, and cause the plant to die. But at what point the boundary lies between salubrious effects and the reverse, where the beneficial action of particular 74 NUTRIENT SALTS. substances ceases and detrimental action begins, is not known more precisely than has been stated. We only know that different plants behave very differently in this respect. Suppose, for example, that we scatter wood-ash over a field which is overgrown by grasses, mosses, and various herbs and shrubs. The result is that the mosses die; in the case of the grasses growth is somewhat increased; whilst some of the herbs and shrubs, notably polygonaceous and cruciferous plants, exhibit a strik- ingly luxuriant growth. If we scatter gypsum instead, the development of clover is enhanced, and, on the other hand, there are certain ferns and grasses that die earlier when gypsum is supplied, or, at least, are considerably stunted in their growth. The fact that certain plants predominate on calcareous and others on siliceous ground has been the subject of very thorough investigation; and these researches were regarded as justifying the assumption that particular species require a more or less considerable quantity of lime for food, whilst others require similarly silicic acid. Hereupon was founded a division of plants into those which required and were tolerant of lime, and into such as required and tolerated silica. The explana- tion given of these facts does not seem, however, to be satisfactory, at any rate in the case of siliceous plants. It is much more probable that the so-called silica- loving plants are produced on ground composed of quartz, granite, or slate, not by reason of the abundance of silicic acid, but because of the absence of lime in any large quantity, such as would be liable to injure plants of the kind; for only traces of lime are found, and its presence to this extent is absolutely necessary for every plant. This is not of course inconsistent with the fact that individual species require larger quantities of particular food-salts and only flourish luxuriantly when these nutritive salts are not meted out too sparingly. In the case of oraches, thrifts, wormwood species, and cruciferous plants, alkalies, in comparatively large quantities, are necessary for hardy development. The proper habitat for these plants, therefore, is on soils which contain an abundance of easily soluble alkaline compounds, in places where the ground is regularly saturated by saline solutions, and where crystals of salt effloresce on the drying surface. Such places are the sea-shore, the salt steppes, and the neighbourhood of salt-mines. The above plants not only flourish in these localities in great abundance and perfection, but they supplant all other species on which the excessive provision of soluble alkaline salts is not beneficial. If the seeds of such plants happen to fall upon the salt ground they germinate, but only drag out a miserable existence for a short time, and in the end are crowded out by the luxuriant oraches and crucifers. Plants which only flourish abundantly on soils rich in alkaline salts are called halophytes. The same name has also been applied to plants which only thrive in sea-water. Most of the species used by us as edible vegetables, as, for instance, cabbages, turnips, cress, &c., are really descended from halophytes, and accordingly require a soil that contains a comparatively rich supply of alkalies. An oppor- tunity will occur, later on, of returning to the question as to how far agriculture has gained by all these discoveries, and of considering what processes, based upon ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY WATER-PLANTS. 75 the results of scientific research, have been introduced into practice. Amongst these processes may be mentioned the rotation of crops, the artificial application of manure to exhausted land, and the restitution of the mineral food-salts which the particular plants last cultivated have withdrawn from the land under tillage. ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY WATER-PLANTS. It is usual to designate all plants that grow in water as hydrophytes or water- plants. But in their narrower sense these names are only applicable to those plants which, during their entire lives, vegetate under water and derive their nutriment, especially carbonic acid, direct from the water. A number of plants have widely ramifying roots fixed in the earth at the bottom of water, and the lower parts of their stems, either temporarily or throughout life, immersed in water, whilst the upper parts of their stems and their upper leaves are exposed to the air and take carbonic acid direct from the atmosphere, and these should be regarded as marsh- plants and classed with land-plants so far as regards food-absorption. Reeds and rushes, water-fennel and water-plantain, the yellow water-lily, even the amphibious Polygonum and the white water-lily, are marsh-plants and not true hydrophytes. It is characteristic of all these marsh-plants, that if they are entirely submerged for any length of time they die, whereas they are not injured if the water’s level at the place where they grow sinks so as to expose the lower portions of the stem. In places formerly submerged, but from which, in course of time, the water has retreated, so that they have been turned into meadows, one may come across not only clumps of reeds and rushes but even yellow and white water-lilies, flourishing perfectly on the moist earth. Water-plants, or hydrophytes in the proper acceptation of the term, perish if they are kept for a length of time out of their proper medium and exposed to the air. In most of them death ensues quickly, for their delicate cell-membranes are not able to prevent the exhalation of water from the interior of their cells; and, there being no provision for a replacement of the evaporated fluid, the whole plant dries up. If one supplies aquatic plants, thus desiccated, with water, though it is indeed absorbed it no longer has the power of reviving them. Those hydrophytes which occur in the sea, near the shore, are able to stand exposure to the air for a comparatively long time, and they are regularly sub- ject to it during ebb-tide. Sea-wracks which at high-tide were floating in the water are then seen lying on the dry rocks or sand of the shore. But the mem- branes of the cells forming the outermost layer in all these sea-wracks is very thick. They retain water staunchly and prevent the plants from drying up, at least until high-tide occurs again, when they are once more submerged. Amphibious plants in which the lower leaves are like those of aquatics and the upper like those of land-plants so far as desiccation is concerned (e.g. several kinds of pond-weed—Potamogeton heterophyllus and P. natans—and a few white-flowered Ranunculi— Ranunculus aquatilis and R. hololeucus), exhibit a transition stage from 76 ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY WATER-PLANTS. aquatic plants to land-plants. When the water sinks and they are finally left lying exposed on the mud or wet sand, to which they appear to be firmly attached by their abundant roots, it is only the previously submerged leaves that dry up. That part of the foliage which floated on the surface and was consequently always in contact with the air continues to thrive, and any fresh leaves that may be developed adapt themselves completely to the new environment. Similar behaviour is ob- served in many of the plants which float freely on the surface of water. Such, for instance, is the case with some species of duckweed (Lemna minor and L. polyrrhiza), with Azolla, Pontederia and Pistia; they do not die when the water sinks, leaving them stranded, but absorb food-stuffs from the wet earth through their roots, and in this condition are not to be distinguished from land-plants. Hydrophytes in the narrow sense, i.e. plants which are entirely submerged and die if they are surrounded by air instead of water for any length of time, are for the most part fixed to some support beneath the water. In many cases the characteristic method of reproduction consists in the separation of special cells, which then swim about for a time in the water. Sooner or later, however, they re-attach themselves to some seemingly suitable spot, and the further phases of their development are again stationary. Comparatively few permanently submerged species are freely suspended in the liquid medium -in every stage of development. Such free plants are liable to be shifted by currents in the water, but the extent of their displacement is never very great, owing to the fact that submerged species of this kind occur almost exclusively in still water. As instances may be mentioned the ivy-leaved duckweed (Lemna trisulca), the water-violet (Hottonia palustris), the various species of hornwort (Ceratophyllwm), in all of which roots are absent; and in addition amongst the lower or cryptogamic plants Riccia fluitans, and many of the Desmidiacee, Spirogyras and Nostocines., Some of these aquatic plants periodically rest on the bottom of the pond or lake in which they live. An example is afforded by the remarkable plant known as the water-soldier (Stratiotes aloides), which, as is indicated by its Latin name, is not unlike an aloe in appearance. During the winter, this plant rests at the bottom of the pond it inhabits. As April draws near, the individual plants rise almost to the surface and remain floating there, producing fresh sword-shaped leaves and bunches of roots which arise from the abbreviated axis, and finally flowers which, when the summer is at its height, float upon the surface. When the time of flowering is over, the plant sinks again to mature its fruit and seeds, and develop buds for the production of young daughter-plants. Towards the end of August, it rises for the second time in one year. The young plants that have meantime grown up resemble their parent completely, except that their size is smaller. They grow at the end of long stalks springing from amongst the whorled leaves, and the stately mother-plant is now surrounded by them like a hen by her chickens. During the autumn, the shoots connecting the daughter-plants with their parent rot away, and, thus isolated, each little rosette, as well as the mother-plant, sinks once more to the bottom of the pond and there hibernates. ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY WATER-PLANTS. 77 Altogether the number of submerged plants which live suspended in water is very small. As has been said before, by far the greater number are attached some- where. Seed-bearing plants or Phanerogamia, such as Vallisneria, Ouvirandra, Myriophyllum, Najas, Zannichellia, Ruppia, Zostera, Elodea, Hydrilla, and several species of Potamogeton (P. pectinatus, P. pusillus, P. lucens, P. densus, P. crispus); as also Cryptogams, such as the various species of Isoetes and Pilularia and sub- merged mosses, are fastened in the mud under water by means of attachment-roots or of rhizoids, whilst the almost illimitable host of brown and red sea-weeds are fixed by special cells or groups of cells, which are often root-like in appearance. The sea-weeds choose rocks and stones, by preference, for their support, but they also make use of animals and plants. The shells of mussels and snails are often completely overgrown by brown and red sea-weeds. Larger kinds of Fucacez, especially the species of Sargasswm and Cystosira, which form regular submarine forests, bear upon their branches numerous other small epiphytes, chiefly Floridez, and these again are themselves covered by minute Diatomacer. Many of the huge and lofty brown sea-weeds which raise themselves from the bottom of the sea, remind one forcibly of tropical trees covered with Orchidez and Bromeliacez, whilst the latter are themselves overgrown by Mosses and Lichens. These epiphytes are for the most part, however, neither parasitic nor saprophytic. In general hydrophytes attached by means of single cells or groups of cells derive no nutriment, i.e. no food-salts, from the support they rest upon. When loosened from the substratum they continue to live in the water for a long time; they increase in size, and if they come into contact with a solid body are apt to attach themselves to it. In this connection it is well worthy of remark that certain Crustacea have their carapaces entirely covered by hydrophytes of this kind, and that it takes a very short time for the plants to establish themselves upon them. For instance, some species of crabs, such as Maja verrucosa, Pisa tetraodon and P. armata, Inachus scorpioides and Stenorrhyncus longirostris, cut off bits of Wracks, Floridex, Ulve, &c., with their claws, and place them on the top of their carapaces, securing them on peculiar spiky or hooked hairs. The fragments grow firmly to the crabs’ chitinous coats, and far from being harmful to the animals are, on the contrary, an important means of protection. The crabs in question escape pursuit in con- sequence of this disguise, and it is to be observed that each species chooses the very material which makes it most unrecognizable to plant upon the exterior of its body: those species which live chiefly in regions where Cystosiras are indigenous deck themselves in Cystosiras, whilst those which inhabit the same places as Ulve, carry Ulve on their backs. This phenomenon has for us a special interest in that it shows that the water-plants we are discussing draw no food-salts from their place of attachment, and that accordingly the chemical composition of the support is a matter of utter indifference to all these Fucaces, Floridex, Ulvee, &c. There is no doubt that food-salts are absorbed by these hydrophytes from the surrounding water through their whole surface. Accordingly the structure of their peripheral cells is much simpler than is the case in land-plants. In the latter very 78 ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY WATER-PLANTS. complicated adaptations are necessary for the extraction of food-salts from the earth. In particular, the portions which are exposed to the air above ground exhibit a number of special structures connected with this extraction. These structures (cuticle, stomata, &c.) are superfluous in the case of aquatic plants, for there is with them no necessity for raising and conducting food-salts into the parts where they can be used up. Moreover the absorption of nutritious matter is much simpler, inasmuch as it is not necessary for the absorbent parts to search for a perpetual source of the requisite substances. The roots of land-plants have often to range over a wide area in order to find sufficient nourishment in the earth, and frequently they have then to liberate it, i.e. bring it into a state of solution. This is not the case with water-plants. They are completely surrounded by a medium which is itself to a large extent a solution of food-salts, and no sooner are substances withdrawn by the absorbent cells from the layers of water immediately bounding them than those substances are again supplied from the more remote environ- ment. Constant compensating currents occur in water, and there is, therefore, scarcely an aquatic plant towards which there is not a perpetual flow of the food- salts it requires in a form suitable for absorption. In connection with this kind of food-absorption there is also the fact that the parts by which hydrophytes attach themselves to a support are relatively small in area. Fucoids, as large as hazel trees in height and girth, are fixed to submerged rocks by groups of cells perhaps only 1 cm. in diameter. The quantity of food-salts absorbed by hydrophytes is very considerable com- pared with the amounts absorbed by other plants. As has been mentioned before, soda and iodine play a very important part in the thousands of different varieties which live in the sea. If Floridez are transferred from the sea into pure distilled water, common salt and other saline compounds diffuse out of the interior of the cells through the cell-membranes into the fresh water around. The red colouring matter of these Floridew also passes through the cell-walls into the water, proving that the molecular structure of the membrane is adapted to the agency of salt water in the osmotic processes of food-absorption. Plants living in fresh, or in brackish water, likewise absorb relatively large quantities of food-salts; and this accounts for the fact that water which is very poorly provided with nutriment of the kind contains only very few vegetable species. One would expect that exceedingly abundant vegetation would be evolved in running water, provided the latter contained food-salts in solution, however small they might be in quantity. For, in such a situation, it is not necessary to wait for the salts withdrawn by the plants from their immediate environment to be restored by the slow processes of mixture and equilibration; the water which has been drained of nutriment is replaced the next moment by other water bearing fresh food-salts. Experience shows, however, that flowing water is not so favourable to the develop- ment of hydrophytes as is the still water of pools, ponds, and lakes. This may partly depend on the fact that running water is always poorer in food-salts, and ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY LITHOPHYTES 79 partly also on the circumstance that mechanical difficulties are opposed to the taking up of saline molecules from water in rapid motion. There are only a few plants that are able to absorb under these conditions, and these choose, by preference, the very spots where they are most exposed to the dash of the water. Thus, certain Nostocineze (Zonotrichia, Scytonema) are to be found constantly in waterfalls at the parts where the most violent fall occurs. Lemanea, Hydrurus, and many mosses and liverworts, grow by preference in the foaming cascades of rapid torrents. Amongst flowering plants we only know of the Podostemaces as choosing a habitat of this kind. Podostemacez are exceedingly curious little plants, which at first glance one would take for mosses or liverworts without roots. Some of them, eg. the Brazilian species of the genus Lophogyne and the various species of Terniolw growing in Ceylon, exhibit no differentiation into stem and leaves, but are only represented by green fissured and indented lobes attached to stones. They belong without exception to the tropical zone, and occur there in the beds of streams, attached to rocks, over which the foaming water rushes. ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY LITHOPHYTES. Nothing would seem more natural, as to the absorption of mineral salts by lithophytes, than that the stone which constitutes their support should yield the salts, and that the attached plants should suck them up; but, generally speaking, the case is not so simple. There are mosses and lichens which cling to the surfaces of rocks on mountain tops. These rocks are sometimes composed of perfectly pure quartz, and yet the plants in question contain very little silica; they contain, on the other hand, a number of substances entirely wanting in the composition of the underlying rock, and which could not, therefore, have been derived from that source. For many of these lithophytes the rock is, in the main, only a substratum for attachment, and in no way a nutrient soil; just as, in the case of many aquatic plants, the stones to which they cling by their discs of attachment are anything but sources of nourishment. From what source, then, do stone-plants of this kind derive the food-salts which are wanting in their substratum? It may sound paradoxical, but it is nevertheless the fact, that they obtain those salts from the air through the medium of atmospheric precipitation. Rain and snow not only absorb carbon dioxide, sulphuric acid, and ammonia—which occur in air universally, although in extremely minute quantities —but they also collect, as they fall, floating particles of dust. The opinion is widely entertained that although the atmosphere is full of dust in the neighbourhood of cities and human settlements generally, where the soil is laid bare and ploughed up, and roads and paths have been made for purposes of traffic, and perhaps also over steppes and deserts where large areas of ground are destitute of vegetation, yet that there is no dust in the air over land remote from places of that kind or in the air of marshes, lakes, or seas. This notion has certainly some warrant if we regard as dust only the coarser particles which are raised from loose earth and 80 ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY LITHOPHYTES. whirled into the air by the wind. Moreover, the quality of the dust will no doubt be characteristically affected by the vicinity of areas of industry. One has only to look at the sooty leaves and branches of trees in parks near manufactories to convince oneself of the reality of this influence. But it would be quite erroneous to suppose that the air in regions far from land that has been cultivated or otherwise opened up is free from dust. It contains dust everywhere. There is dust in the air of the extensive ice-fields of arctic regions and of high mountain glaciers, and there is dust in the air of great forests and over the boundless sea. If the rays of the setting sun fall obliquely through a gap between two peaks in a wood-clad mountain valley, sun-motes may be seen floating up and down and in circles, just as they do in a room when the last rays before sunset fall through the window. These motes are of course not usually visible, and they are moreover much smaller than the particles of dust which are raised by the wind from roads and then again deposited. Now, when rain falls, it takes the sun-motes from the air and brings them down to earth, and the air is thus washed to a certain degree of purity. This happens still more completely in the event of snow. The latter acts not unlike a mass of gelatine used to purify cloudy liquids, its effect being to drag down with it all the particles to which the turbidity is due, leaving the upper part of the liquid quite clear. Similarly, falling snow-flakes filter the air; and, mixed with fallen snow, there are accordingly innumerable particles of dust. If afterwards the snow gradually melts, it dissolves some of the dust, which then drains away into chinks and depressions; but a portion remains behind undissolved. This portion is gradually consolidated, and then appears lying on the parts of the snow that are still unmelted in the form of dark patches, streaks, and bands; often also it forms a smeary graphitic covering so widely spreading over the last remnants of melting snow that the latter resemble lumps of mud rather than snow. Accord- ingly we find it everywhere —in regions cultivated and uncultivated, in tilled lowlands and on high grassy plains above forest limits, where no tilled land is to be seen in any direction, and lastly in arctic regions in the middle of glaciers several miles across. All this snow dust is not invariably deposited as a result of the filtering of the air by falling snow-flakes; an additional supply is brought by the winds which blow across the snow-fields. It is not of rare occurrence in the Alps for snow- fields to exhibit suddenly, after violent storms, an orange-red coloration. On closer inspection one finds that the surface of the snow is strewn with a layer of powder, infinitesimally fine and for the most part brick-red, which has been brought by the gales. Investigation of this “meteoric dust” shows that it is composed chiefly of minute fragments of ferruginous quartz, felspar, and various other minerals. Mixed with these there are, however, sometimes remnants of organic bodies, such as bits of dead insects, siliceous skeletons of diatoms, spores, pollen-grains, tiny fragments of stems, leaves, and fruits, and the like. Once, after a south wind had prevailed for several days, the snow-fields of the Solstein range near Innsbruck were covered, at a height of from two to three thousand meters above the sea-level, ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY LITHOPHYTES. 81 with millions of a species of Micrococcus, which lent a rosy hue to vast expanses of snow. Most of the dust in the atmosphere originates, doubtless, from our earth. The air that blows in waves over the earth can carry along with it not only dead and detached portions of plants, but also loose particles of rock, sand, earth, and dried mud. If one draws one’s palm across the weather side of a dry rock composed of dolomitic limestone, gneiss, trachyte, or mica-schist, the surface of the stone always feels dusty, and the slightest movement of the hand is sufficient to detach a number of particles which were already separate from the rock and only held in loose con- nection with it. This dust is liable to be detached and carried away by any strong gust of wind. Larger and heavier particles are not, it is true, lifted much above the ground; they are rolled and pounded along and thereby reduced to a still finer powder. This finer dust may then be scattered afar by gales blowing horizontally, or even ascend into higher atmospheric strata. The finest dust in particular, how- ever, is carried up into the higher layers of the air by the currents which ascend from the earth in calm weather; and this applies not only to the tropics but to the temperate zones as well, and even to the frigid regions of the arctic zone. When, therefore, this dust is brought back by rain or snow from the upper aerial strata to the earth, it but completes a circuit. Indeed it is highly probable that the particles of dust restored to earth by means of atmospheric deposits recommence their aerial travels as soon as they are thoroughly dry again, and that there is thus a circulation of dust analogous to that of water. There is of course no inconsistency in the fact that meteoric dust, which is often drifted along in surprisingly large quantities, may originate quite suddenly during volcanic eruptions; nay, it is even possible that cosmic dust reaches our atmosphere and thence falls to the earth. Chemical investigation of aerial dust has, no doubt, yielded in most cases only sulphuric and phosphoric acids, lime, mag- nesia, oxide of iron, alumina, silica, and traces of potash and soda, that is to say, the most widely distributed constituents of the solid crust of our earth; but cobalt and copper have also been found in it, over and over again, and it has hence been inferred that the dust in these cases was of cosmic origin. In relation to the question which we have here to answer the above is, after all, almost a matter of indifference. The only important facts are that dust in a state of extremely fine division is blown about in the air, that this dust contains the salts required by plants for their food, that it is carried for the most part mechanically by drops of water and flakes of snow, condensed in the atmosphere, and is partially dissolved, that the atmospheric deposits supply lithophytic plants with a sufficient quantity of nutrient salts, and that the aqueous solution so supplied is rapidly absorbed by the whole surface of the plants in question. We must not omit to mention here that the demand of lithophytes for mineral food-salts is not very great. In particular the protoneme and even the leafy shoots of Grimmia, Rhacomitrie, Andreceacee and other rock mosses, and the Collemacew and most crustaceous lichens only contain very minute quantities of these substances. Water containing Vou. IL. 6 82 ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY LAND-PLANTS. the usual mineral salts in about such proportion as is necessary for the cultivation of cereals in fields has actually an injurious effect on these lithophytes and soon kills them. At the end of this section we shall consider what happens to dust which is brought to earth from the air by rain and snow but is not dissolved, and the important part it plays in clothing the naked ground and in changes of vegetation. Here, however, it must be noted that most lithophytes are true dust-catchers, that is to say, they are able to retain, mechanically, dust conveyed to them by wind, rain, and snow, and to use it in later stages of development by extracting nutriment from it. Many mosses are completely lithophytic in early stages of development whilst later they figure as land-plants. ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY LAND-PLANTS. In no class of plants is the absorption of mineral food-salts accomplished in so complicated a manner as in land-plants. Moreover, this absorption is by no means uniform in different forms of plants, and we must beware of generalizing with regard to processes which have only been traced and studied in isolated groups—perhaps only in the commonly distributed cultivated plants. On the other hand, with a view to synoptical representation, it is not desirable to enter into too great detail or to attempt to describe all the various differences minutely. At the outset, it is difficult to give an accurate account of the soil which constitutes the source of nutriment in the case of land-plants. From the dark graphitic mass composed of sun-motes, which is deposited in the place of a melted layer of snow, to coarse gravel, there is an unbroken chain of transition stages; loam, sand and gravel are only specially-marked members of this chain. Again, just as earth varies in respect of the size of its component parts, so also it varies in the mineral salts it contains, in the amount of admixture of decaying vegetable and animal remains, in the nature of the union of its constituents, and in its capacity to absorb, to retain, or to yield up water. Compare the sand composed of quartz on the bank of a mountain stream with that of calcareous origin which is found impregnated with salt on the sea-shore, or with the sand at the foot of mountains of trachyte, which has an efflorescence of soda-salts. Or compare the granite bed of a desert, bare of soil, with the loam on the granitic plateaus of northern regions where there is an intermixture of the remains of a vegetation for centuries active. How great is the difference in each case! But whatever the kind of earth, it is only of value as a source of nutriment for a plant when the interstices of its various particles are filled with watery fluid for the time during which the plant is engaged in the construction of organic substances. But how is the earth supplied with water? “Das hat nicht Rast bei Tag und Nacht, Ist stets auf Wanderschaft bedacht.” ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY LAND-PLANTS. 83 Streams fall into lakes, rivers into the sea, and hence the water ascends into the atmosphere in the form of vapour, and returns once more to earth as snow, rain, and dew. Through porous earth it percolates until it has filled all the interspaces. If its further descent be impeded by impervious strata, it spreads literally as sub- terranean water, or else comes up at some special spot as a spring. Earth which is richly endowed with decaying vegetable remains is able to absorb vapour in addition from the atmosphere. When this occurs, carbonic and nitric acids are always absorbed along with the aqueous vapour. These are contained, as has beén mentioned before, in atmospheric deposits, and another source of these acids is afforded by the decay of dead parts of plants. Water precipitated from the atmosphere, and con- taining carbonic and nitric acids, is able by their means to decompose the compounds in all the rocks which come in its way as it percolates through the ground, especially when its action is long continued. The siliceous compounds or so-called silicates— felspars, mica, hornblende, and augite in particular—and quartz, the anhydride of silicic acid, which form the preponderant mass of the rocks of the solid crust of our earth, either contain a great quantity of silica, alumina, and alkalies, or if they are relatively poor in silica they may be rich in iron. The former are found chiefly in granite, gneiss, mica-schist, and argillaceous slate; the latter preponderate in serpentine, syenite, melaphyr, dolerite, trachyte and basalt. First the felspars are decomposed by the acid water. Their alkalies combine with the carbonic and nitric acids forming soluble salts, and the alumina and silica remain behind as clay. Iron is also converted into soluble salts. The most difficult substances to decompose are the mica and quartz, and it is on that account that they so often appear in the form of glittering scales and angular nodules mixed with the clay produced from the decomposition of felspar. But, ultimately, even they are unable to withstand the continuous action of the acidulated water. The result of these chemical changes is an earth, which, according to the nature of the parent rock, contains a preponderating amount of clay, of quartzose sand or of mica, which is coloured in various ways by iron compounds. Of substances useful to plants these earths yield generally on analysis the following: potash, soda, lime, magnesia, alumina, ferrous and ferric oxides, manganese, chlorine, sulphuric acid, phosphoric acid, silica, and carbonic acid, sometimes one sometimes another in greater proportion relatively, and traces of many substances often so slight as hardly to be detected. It is true that limestone and dolomite, which, next to the above-mentioned rocks, enter most largely into the composition of the solid crust of the earth, consist chiefly of carbonate of lime and magnesium carbonate respectively; but wherever they occur in extensive strata and piles, they always contain in addition an admixture of alumina, silicic acid, ferrous oxide, manganese, traces of alkalies in combination with phosphorie and sulphuric acids, &. Of the carbonates of lime and magnesia a great part is gradually dissolved and carried away upon the invasion of water containing carbonic and nitric acids, and a proportion also of the substances mixed with them, as above mentioned, is lixiviated. What remains 84 ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY LAND-PLANTS. behind then consists of an argillaceous, loamy mass, variously coloured by iron and very similar in appearance to the clay formed from the decomposition of felspar. According to the quantity of the substances mixed with the carbonate of lime in the rock, the loamy earth formed from limestone is either abundant or only in restricted layers, bands and pockets lying on, or intercalated within, the unde- composed débris of the stone. Chemical analysis has resulted in the discovery that there are, as a rule, in loamy earth of this kind the same ingredients avail- able for plants as have been identified in earth produced from silicates; and we are led to believe that earths, collected in widely different places and covering rocks of most various kinds, are much more uniform qualitatively than has been supposed. Only, the relative proportions of the substances forming the mixture are usually different. Silica and the alkalies are less conspicuous in earth derived from limestone, and carbonate of lime in that which is formed from silicates. This difference is particularly striking in instances where the rock consisted almost entirely either of quartz and mica or of nearly pure carbonates of lime and magnesium. In these cases the earth formed is not argillaceous, but of loose consistence, very abundant, and composed, according to the kind of rock, of quartzose sand and mica scales or calcareous and dolomitic sand. The conversion of rocks into earths by the action of water from the atmosphere containing carbonic and nitric acids is, besides, materially modified by the disrup- tions which ensue from changes of temperature, more particularly by the freezing of water within the pores of rocks. It is also affected, though more remotely, by the mechanical action of water and air in motion, and, lastly, by the plants them- selves, which penetrate with their roots into the narrowest crevices and mingle their dead remains with the portions of the rock that are decomposed, broken up, or abraded by chemical and mechanical agencies. The substance produced from a rock in the manner explained is called earth-mould, or simply earth. The matter resulting from the decomposition of plants and animals is designated by the term “humus.” Earth which includes an abundance of decomposed fragments of plants, ie. has a large admixture of humus, is called vegetable mould. Every kind of earth, but especially earth rich in humus and clay, has the power of retaining gases, and especially water and salts. When water containing salts in solution is poured over a layer of dry vegetable mould, it percolates into the spaces between the particles of earth, and speedily drives out of them the air which has but slight adhesion, and which then ascends in bubbles. It is not till all the inter- spaces are full of water, whilst a fresh supply is constantly maintained from above, that any of the liquid oozes out from beneath the stratum of earth. The water remaining in the interstices is held there by adhesion to the particles of earth, and we must conceive each of these particles as surrounded by an adherent film of water. The inorganic salts, infiltrating with the water, are held with still greater energy. The water which trickles from the bottom of the earth always contains a much smaller proportion of salts in solution than that which was poured on above, whence we conclude that the latter are in part absorbed by the earth. ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY LAND-PLANTS. 85 The salts are to be regarded as forming an extremely delicate coating round minute particles of earth where they are forcibly retained. If a plant rooted in the earth is to take in these salts it has to overcome the force by which their molecules are detained. This is effected, however, by means of a very powerful attraction exerted by the protoplasts of the plant as they grow, carry on the work of construction, and use up material. What actually happens is an energetic suction by the cells that are in close contact with particles of earth. This suction depends, however, upon the chemical affinity between the substances in the interior of the cells and the salts adhering to the earth-particles, as well as upon the consumption of food-salts for the manufacture of organic compounds within the green cells. It is supposed that whenever salts are abstracted from soil-particles by suction, a restitution of like salts immediately takes place, particles still unresolved in the immediate neighbourhood being dissolved, and a fresh influx taking place from the environment. Consequently the concentration of the solution retained by the earth is always approximately the same, or, at any rate, equilibrium is very quickly restored. One advantage of this is that the cells in immediate contact with particles of earth, and their adherent liquid, can only meet with a saline solution of constant weak concentration, and are therefore secure from injury such as would result in the case of most plants, from contact with a very concentrated solution. In other words, the absorptive power of earth acts as a regulator of the process of absorption of food-salts by plants, and is the means of keeping the saline solution in the earth always at the degree of strength best suited to the plants concerned. Naturally, the passage of salts from the earth to the interior of a plant is dependent on the aid of water containing both the substances composing cell- contents and the food-salts in solution. The cell-membranes, through which absorption takes place, are saturated with this solution. The aqueous films adhering to the particles of earth, the water saturating the cell-membrane, and the liquid inside the cells are really in unbroken connection, and along this continuous water- way the passage of salt molecules in and out can take place easily. The absorption of food-salts directly from the earth by green cells occurs very rarely. The protonema of Polytrichwm, which spreads its threads over loamy earth and wraps it in a delicate green felt, and that of the famous Cavern Moss (Schis- tostega), whose long tubular lower cells penetrate the earth in the recesses of caves, do undoubtedly suck up their necessary food-salts by means of cells containing chlorophyll. A drawing of the latter is given in figure 25a, p. The majority of land-plants have, however, special absorptive cells for the taking-up of salts in solution. These cells are imbedded amongst or lodged upon the earth-particles, and are usually in intimate connection with portions of them. Any part of a plant that penetrates into the earth or lies upon it, may, if it performs the function of absorption, be equipped with cells of the kind. Plagiotheciwm nekeroideum, a delicate moss belonging to the flora of Germany, and growing on earth under overhanging rocks, where it is not exposed to rain, and therefore cannot receive any food-salts through that agency, develops absorption-cells on the apices 86 ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY LAND-PLANTS. of its green leaflets. So also does Leucobrywm javense, a species native to Java. Several delicate ferns of the family of the Hymenophyllacee exhibit them on their subterranean stems. Many liverworts and the prothalli of ferns bear them on the under surfaces of their flat thalli which lie outspread on damp earth. But most commonly of all are they to be found close behind the growing tips of roots. Their form does not vary very much. On the roots of plants fringing the sources of cold mountain-springs, as on those of many marsh-plants in low-lying land, they are in the form of comparatively large, oblong, flattened, closely united cells, with thin walls and colourless contents. In some conifers, whilst having in the main the shape just described, they differ in that they are arched outwards so as to form papillae; but in most other phanerogams the external cell-wall projects outwards, and the whole absorptive cell develops into a slender tube, set perpendicularly to the longitudinal axis of the root (fig. 12‘). Seen with the naked eye, or but slightly magnified, these delicate tubes look like fine hairs, and have received the name of “root-hairs.” The end of a root often appears to be covered with velvety pile, and the absorptive cells are then very closely packed; more than four hundred per square millimeter have been occa- sionally counted. In other cases, however, there are hardly more than ten on a square millimeter. When in such small numbers they are usually elongated and clearly visible to the naked eye. Their length, for the most part, varies from the fraction of a millimeter to three millimeters, and their thickness between 0008 m.m. and 014mm. It is only exceptionally that one meets with plants, rooted in mud, possessing root-hairs 5 m.m. or more in length. The absorptive cells of phanero- gams are almost always simple epidermal cells of the particular part of the plant that bears them, and are not partitioned by any transverse walls. In mosses and fern prothalli, on the other hand, the absorption-cells are generally segmented by transverse septa and are usually greatly elongated. In those liverworts which belong to the genus Marchantia they form a thick felt on the under side of the leaf-like plant, or rather, on such part of it as is turned away from the light, and some of these tangled rhizoids attain a length of nearly 2¢m. The stems of many mosses also are wrapped in a regular felt. This property is rendered very striking in the species of Barbula, Dicranum, and Mnium, and especially in such forms as have bright green leaves, by the reddish-brown colour of the cells in question. Sometimes the long capillary cells of which the felt is composed are twisted together spirally like the strands of a rope. A good instance of this is Polytri- chum. These fine, hair-like, segmented and branched structures, found on mosses, variously matted and intertwisted, are called rhizoids. But only those cells which come into contact with the earth-particles are truly absorbent. The rest do not serve to imbibe from the ground, but to conduct the aqueous solution of food-salts, after it has been taken up by the absorptive cells, to the stem and to the leaves. The tubular cells resulting from the development of a root’s epidermis are placed, as before observed, at right angles to its longitudinal axis. They only grow, how- ever, in earth that is very damp, and even then their course is not always a straight ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY LAND-PLANTS. 87 line, for as a rule they describe a spiral as they elongate. Their movement seems as though it were for discovering the most favourable parts of the earth for absorp- tion and attachment. In this manner they penetrate into the interspaces in the earth which are filled with air and water. They also have the power of thrusting aside minute particles of earth, especially if the latter consists of loose sand or mud. If they strike perpendicularly a solid immovable bit of earth, they bend aside and grow round it with their surfaces closely adpressed to that of the obstacle until they reach the opposite point on the other side, when they once more resume their original direction (fig. 12°). When they encounter large grains of earth they Fig. 12.—Absorptive Cells on Root of Penstemon. 1 Seedling with the long absorptive cells of its root (‘‘root-hairs”) with sand attached. 2The same seedling; the sand removed by washing. 3 Root-tip with absorptive cells; x10. 4 Absorptive cells with adherent particles of earth. 5Section through the root-tip; x60. sometimes stop and swell up to the shape of a club. The club divides into two or more arms, which grasp and cling to the granule like the fingers of a hand. Many fragments of earth remain thus in the grasp of finger-like processes, whilst others are held fast in the knots and spirals of corkscrew-shaped root-hairs which are often found tangled together. But the retention of most of the earth-particles which adhere to a plant, including fragments of lime, quartz, mica, felspar, &c., as well as plant-residues, is due to the fact that the outermost layer of the absorptive cells is sticky, it being altered into a swollen gelatinous mass which envelops the particles, When this sticky layer becomes dry it contracts and stiffens, and the granules partially imbedded in it are thereby cemented so tightly to the absorptive cells that even violent shaking will not dislodge them. In the case of most seedlings, and in that of grasses, the absorptive cells which proceed from the roots and which are especially numerous in the latter, are generally thickly covered with particles of earth (see fig. 12*). If such a root is pulled out of sandy soil it appears to be completely encased in a regular cylinder of sand (fig. 121). A root of Clusia alba, taken from coarse gravel, had its root-hairs so tightly 88 ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY LAND-PLANTS. adherent to bits of gravel that several little stones, weighing 1°8 grms., were found clinging to it when it was lifted. The gelatinous mass, resulting from the swelling- up of the external coat of the cell, does not in any way hinder absorption or the passage of food-salts in solution. Nor does the inner coat, the thickness of which varies between 0:0006 m.m. and 0:01 m.m., constitute any impediment to imbibition. In addition to the absorption of nutritive salts by root-hairs, there is also, in many cases, an interchange of materials; that is to say, not only do substances infiltrate from the earth into the absorption-cells, and so onward into the tissues of a plant, but others pass out of the plant through the absorptive cells into the earth. Amongst these eliminated substances, carbonic acid, in particular, plays an important part. A portion of the earth-particles adhering to root-hairs is decomposed by it, and food-salts in immediate proximity to those cells are hereby rendered available and pass into the plant by the shortest way. Having now seen that land-plants take in food-salts by means of special absorptive cells, it is natural to find that each of these plants develops its absorption-cells, projects them, and sets them to work at a place where there is a source of nutritive matter. The parts that bear absorptive cells will accord- ingly grow where there are food-salts and water, which is so necessary for their absorption. The Marchantias and fern prothalli spread themselves flat upon the ground, moulding themselves to its contour. From their under-surfaces they send down rhizoids with absorptive cells into the interstices of the soil. Roots provided with root-hairs behave similarly. If a foliage-leaf of the Pepper-plant or of a Begonia be cut up, and the pieces laid flat on damp earth, roots are formed from them in a very short time. The roots on each piece of leaf proceed from veins near the edge, which is turned away from the incident light, and grow vertically downwards into the ground. It is matter of common knowledge that roots which arise upon subterranean parts of stems, like those formed on parts above-ground, grow downward with a force not to be accounted for by their weight alone. This phenomenon, which is called positive geotropism, is looked upon as an effect of gravitation. The idea is that an impetus to growth is given by gravity to the root-tip, and that a trans- mission of this stimulus ensues to the zone behind the tip where the growth of the root takes place. It is noteworthy that if bits of willow twigs are inserted upside down in the earth, or in damp moss, the roots formed from them, chiefly on the shady side, after bursting through the bark, grow downwards in the moist ground, pushing aside with considerable force the grains of earth which they encounter. The appearance of a willow branch thus reversed in the ground is all the more curious inasmuch as the shoots, which are developed simultaneously with roots from the leaf-buds, do not grow in the general direction of the buds and branches, but turn away immediately and bend upwards. Thus the direction of growth of roots and shoots produced on willow-cuttings remains always the same, whether the base or the top of the twig used as a cutting is inserted in the earth. A similar phenomenon is observed if the leafy rootless shoot of a succulent herb (e.g. Sedum reflecum) is cut ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY LAND-PLANTS. 89 off and suspended in the air by a string. Whether it hangs with the apex upper- most, 2.e. in the position in which it grew naturally, or with the apex towards the ground, it always, in a short space of time, produces roots which spring from the _ axis between the fleshy foliage-leaves and bending sharply grow to the earth. Thus in the former case their direction is contrary to the apex of the shoot; in the latter, curiously enough, it is in the same direction. If the height at which the shoot is suspended is only 2 cm. above the earth, the roots growing towards the ground develop their root-hairs 2 cm. from their place of origin. But if the shoot is at a distance of 10 e.m., the roots only develop their root-hairs when they have attained a length of 10 em. The rule is, therefore, for the roots to grow until they reach the nutrient soil without developing absorption-cells, and only to provide themselves with them when they are in the earth. It is to be observed that these roots are produced on the suspended shoot at places where, under normal conditions (ie., if the shoot were not cut off and hung up), no roots would be developed. Subject to abnormal conditions and liable to starvation, the plant sends out these roots for self-preservation. Phenomena of this kind force one to conclude that a plant discerns places which offer a supply of nutriment, and then throws out anchors for safety to those places. This power of detection may, undoubtedly, be explained by the influence which conditions of moisture, in addition to the action of gravitation, have on the direction taken by growing roots. The root-hairs can only obtain food-salts when the ground is thoroughly moist; and whenever roots, or rather their branches, have to choose between two regions, one of which is dry and the other wet, they invariably turn towards the latter. If seeds of the garden-cress are placed on the face of a wall of clay which is kept moist, the rootlets, after bursting out of the seeds, grow at first downwards, but later they enter the wall in a lateral direction. The longitudinal growth of the roots is greater on the dry side than on the wet side, and this results in a bending of the whole towards the source of moisture, in this instance the damp wall. It has been established that the tip of a rootlet is very sensitive to the presence of moisture in the environment. Where there is a moist stratum on one side and a dry stratum on the other, a root-tip receives a stimulus from the unequal conditions in respect of moisture; the stimulus is propagated to the growing part of the root, which lies behind the tip, and the result is a curvature of the root towards the moist side. Thus, the presence of absorbable nutriment, or rather of moisture, in the ground explains the divergence of roots from the direction prescribed by gravity. The extent to which the direction taken by roots in their search for food is dependent upon the presence of that food, and the fact that roots grow towards places that afford supplies of nutritious material, are strikingly exhibited, also, by epiphytes growing on the bark of trees, such as tropical orchids and Bromeliacee; and again by plants parasitic on the branches of trees, of which the Mistletoe and other members of the Loranthacee afford examples. Although the absorption of food by these plants will not be thoroughly discussed till a later 90 ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY LAND-PLANTS. stage, this is the proper place to mention the fact that in them positive geotropism appears to be completely neutralized. The growing rootlets which spring from the seed, and the absorptive cells produced from minute tubercles, grow upwards if placed on the under surface of a branch, horizontally if placed on the side, and downwards if on the upper surface. Thus, whatever the direction, they grow towards the moist bark which affords them nourishment. Positive geotropism seems to be quite abolished also in those marsh-plants which live under water. When, for instance, the seed of the Water-chestnut (Trapa natans) germinates under water in a pond, the main root emerges first from the little aperture of the nut and begins by growing upwards. Soon the smaller scale-like cotyledon is put forth, whilst the other, which is much larger, remains within the nut. The whole plant so far is standing on its head, as it were, and is growing upwards with its principal root directed towards the surface of the water. Gradually the leafy stem emerges from the bud between the two coty- ledons, and likewise curves upwards and grows towards the surface, whilst an abundance of secondary roots is developed at the same time from the main root. Their function is to absorb nutritive substances from the water around, now that the materials for growth stored in the seed are exhausted. Finding an aqueous solution of food-salts everywhere these roots grow in all directions, upwards, downwards, or horizontally to right or left, forwards or backwards, only they carefully avoid touching one another or interfering with each other’s sphere of absorption. It is not till much later that the main root changes the direction of its apex and bends downward. New roots are then produced from the stem; but this subject has no further bearing on the problems at present before us. The movements of roots, as they grow in earth, suggest that they are seeking for nutriment. The root-tip traces, as it progresses, a spiral course, and this revolving motion has been compared to a constant palpitation or feeling. Spots in the earth which are found to be unfavourable to progression are avoided with care. If the root sustains injury, a stimulus is immediately transmitted to the growing part, and the root bends away from the quarter where the wound was inflicted. When the exploring root-tip comes near a spot where water occurs with food-salts in solution, it at once turns in that direction, and, when it reaches the place, develops such absorptive cells as are adapted to the circum- stances. As has been mentioned before, the roots of most land-plants bear root-hairs on a comparatively restricted zone behind the growing point (see fig. 12%), and these hairs have only an ephemeral existence. As the root grows and elongates, new hairs arise (always at the same distance behind the tip), whilst the older ones collapse, turn brown, and perish. In ground which contains on every side food-salts in quantities adequate to the demand, and sufficient water to act as solvent and as medium for the transmission of the salts, the absorptive cells are rarely tubular, but exhibit themselves, as already described, in the form of flat cells destitute of outward curvature. This is the case, for instance, with those Alpine plants which grow in ABSORPTION OF FOOD-SALTS BY LAND-PLANTS. 91 ever-moist hollows and depressions in proximity to springs (e.g. Saxifraga aizoides and many others). But wherever the substances to be absorbed are not so easily obtained, the surfaces of the absorptive cells are increased by means of a protrusion of the outer cell-wall, the whole cell being converted into a tube. These tubular absorptive cells are most elongated in mossy forests, where rather large gaps occur not infrequently in the soil. When a root in the course of growth reaches one of these lacuna, filled with moist air, its root-hairs often lengthen out to an oxtraordi- nary extent, and sometimes attain to twice the length of those which are in compact soil. The absorptive cells on the roots of the Water-hemlock (Cicuta virosa) and the Sweet Flag (Acorus Calamus) do not project at all if the earth in which they grow is muddy; whilst, if the earth is only slightly damp, and an increase of surface is therefore advantageous, the absorptive cells become tubular. Plants which grow in ground liable to periodic drought, and which at these times must secure all the moisture retained by the earth to save their aerial portions from death by desiccation, endeavour to obtain as great an area of absorption as possible by the development of long tubular cells. The fact must not be overlooked, however, that the form and development of absorptive cells depend partly on the quantity of water that is given off from the aerial parts of the plant, that is to say, by the transpiration of the foliage-leaves, Plants which lose a great deal of water in this way must provide for abundant resti- tution. They must absorb from as large an area as possible, and enlarge their absorp- tive surfaces adequately by pushing out the cells into long tubes. For this reason all plants with very thin, delicate, expanded foliage-leaves, which transpire readily and abundantly, have numerous long tubular root-hairs. Examples are afforded by Viola biflora and the various species of Impatiens. On the other hand, plants with stiff, leathery leaves, being protected by a thick epidermis from excessive transpira- tion, as, for instance, the Date-palm, exhibit flat, non-protuberant absorptive cells, because there is a very limited amount of evaporation from these plants, and the quantity of water to be absorbed to replace what is lost is therefore small. The same thing holds in the case of evergreen Conifers, in which, owing to the structure of the stiff needles and to the peculiar formation of the wood, water is conducted very slowly from the roots to the transpiring green organs. It has been ascertained that they exhale from six to ten times iess vapour than do ashes, birches, maples, and other flat-leaved trees growing on the same ground. We shall presently return to the question of the substitution for absorptive cells in many coniferous and angiospermic trees and in evergreen Daphnacee, Ericacece, Pyrolacee, Epacridee, &c., of the mycelium of fungi, and shall treat also of the importance of the form of the absorptive cells, and of the roots which bear them, in relation to the mechanism of striking root in the ground. 92 RELATIONS OF FOLIAGE-LEAVES TO ABSORRENT ROOTS. RELATIONS OF THE POSITION OF FOLIAGE-LEAVES TO THAT OF ABSORBENT ROOTS. Anyone who has ever taken refuge from a sudden shower under a tree will remember that the canopy of foliage afforded protection for a considerable time, and that the ground underneath was either not wet at all, or only slightly so. No doubt some of the rain flows down the bark of the trunk, and in many species, as, for instance, the Yew and the Plane-tree, the volume of water conducted down the trunk is considerable; but in the case of most trees the rain-water which reaches the earth in this manner is not abundant, and in comparison with that which drips from the peripheral parts of the foliage its quantity is negligeable. This phenome- non is dependent upon the position of the foliage-leaves relatively to the horizon. In almost all our foliage-trees—in limes and birches, apple and pear trees, planes and maples, ashes, horse-chestnuts, poplars, and alders—these organs slope out- wards, and are so placed one above the other that rain falling upon a leaf on one of the highest branches flows along the slanting surface to the apex, collects there in drops, and then falls on to a lower leaf whose surface is also inclined outwards. Here it coalesces with the water fallen directly upon this leaf; and so it goes from one tier to another, lower and lower, and at the same time further and further from the axis, till a number of little cascades are formed all round the tree. From the under and outermost leaves of the entire mass of foliage the water falls in great drops to the ground, and after every shower of rain the dry area at the foot of the tree is surrounded by a circular zone of very wet earth. It is only necessary to dig at these places to convince one’s self that the tree’s absorptive roots penetrate the earth precisely to the wet zone. When a tree is young, its roots lie in a small circle, and the crown too is not extensive, so that the damp zone is proportionately restricted. But as the latter is enlarged there is a corresponding elongation of the roots in their search for moisture, and thus roots and foliage progress part passw in peripheral increase. It seems not improbable that the custom amongst gardeners and foresters of trimming the foliage and roots of trees when the latter are transplanted is to be attributed to the phenomenon above described. For the rule is observed that the branches of the trunk and those of the root must be about equally shortened, and accordingly the suction - roots, as they develop, reach the zone of drip of the growing crown. A similar method of carrying off water is to be observed in coniferous trees. Take, for example, the Common Pine. The lateral branches are horizontal near the main trunk; the secondary branches curve upwards like bows. The needles near the tip of each of the latter slant obliquely upwards from the axis, whilst the older needles, situated on the under side of the part of the branch which is almost horizontal and at some distance from its extremity, are directed obliquely downwards and outwards. Rain-drops striking the upturned needles glide down them to the bark of the branch in question, and thence to other needles whose RELATIONS OF FOLIAGE-LEAVES TO ABSORBENT ROOTS. 93 inclination is downwards and outwards. On their apices great drops are gradually formed, which finally detach themselves and fall on to the mass of needles be- longing to a lower branch. ‘Thus transmitted, the rain-water travels through the foliage lower and lower and at the same time further from the axis. This is also the case with larches. The drops of rain which fall upon the erect needles of the tufted “short branches” collect and gradually descend to the needles of the drooping “long branches” on lower boughs. Large drops are always to be seen on their drooping apices, whence they drip to the earth. Owing to the pyramidal form of larches, and to the circumstance that the long shoots on each branch are terminal, almost all the water which falls upon one of these trees reaches the long shoots hanging down from the lowest branches, which discharge most of all. Although larches with their tender needles do not look at all as though they would be any protection against rain, the ground underneath them keeps dry nevertheless, the principal part of the water falling upon them being conducted to the periphery. Indeed, the larch belongs to the number of trees which conduct almost all the rain that falls upon them to a certain distance from the axis where the absorbent roots lie, and only allow a little to trickle down the bark of the main trunk. Many shrubs and perennial herbs also transmit the water, which falls on their upturned lamine, to parts of the ground where their absorbent roots are embedded; or, rather, the roots send forth their branches bearing absorptive cells to the area which is kept moist by drippings from the leaves. Particularly striking in this respect are the species of the two genera of Aroids Colocasia and Caladium.