r 19 ] 



useful to plants or not, there could be little doubt that the continual 

 separation, on so large a scale, of salts in their purest form, must 

 have a very marked influence on the economy of nature. 



Another strange function of plants was the suspension of 

 odours, disagreeable or otherwise. A peculiarity which, in a less 

 degree, was shared by other members of the goosefoot family, gave 

 its specific name to the chenopodium vulvaria. Its leaves, when 

 rubbed, imparted the disgusting odour of putrid salt fish, and 

 superficial observers had regarded this plant as a contrivance for 

 creating and difi'using a stench. But this was hardly the case. The 

 stench was, he believed, antecedent to the plant. The chenopocUuin 

 was found on the sea shore amongst decaying seaweed, or in heaps 

 of rubbish, whence nasty smells might reasonably be expected to 

 issue. The odour, which might otherwise have disgusted or 

 poisoned the passer by, remained unnoticed when absorbed by the 

 leaves, and it was not the fault of the goosefoot if we chose to 

 handle and smell our fingers afterwards. During the exhibition of 

 the local flora at the Brighton meeting of the British Association, 

 one of these plants was kept alive for several days, and afterwards 

 died in the same spot, and he could bear witness that no offensive 

 smell was ever perceived, except by those who touched. The whole 

 question of plant odours was an interesting one, as there seemed 

 no rule or uniformity in them. Thus the Viola odorata and 

 Viola hirsuta, the Reseda odorata and Reseda lutea, plants so 

 similar as frequently to be mistaken for each other, differ essen- 

 tially in this particular. The common Diplotaxis had a flower 

 scented like the field convolvulus, while its leaves were simply 

 disgusting. The Silene inflata had the taste and smell of young peas, 

 while the Poterium sanguisorba smelt of cucumbers, and the Lychnis 

 vespertina had a sweet odour in the twilight, and none by day. 



Another peculiarity in plant economy was the power of 

 emitting light. A common plant of Tasmania which had the form 

 of a lettuce, and the pale, leathery appearance like that of a fungus, 

 or liverwort, glowed at night with a phosphoric luminosity from 

 every part of its surface. The children cut its leaves into fantastic 

 forms and hung them in dark rooms. Though this plant was very 

 abundant, he was unacquainted with its generic name, and did not 

 know whether to assign it to the Phcenogamia or Cryptogamia. 



