THE WOOD. 



64 



no matter how soon the wind may sweep it away, 

 or the cottager add it to the heap on his hearth, for 

 the loss of a single leaf can be a matter of no im- 

 portance. But, however insignificant it may be 

 in itself, no leaf is lost : if blown away by the 

 wind, it will be lodged probably in some corner 

 where it will soon crumble into dust ; if burnt, 

 its ashes will be carried out, and help to fertilize 

 the cottager's garden. As a leaf, it is no longer 

 of any value ; and God has prepared a minute and 

 an unobtrusive agent, which will speedily reduce 

 it to such a state that it may again perform an 

 office assigned to it by Himself. You will ob- 

 serve that it is spotted with a few black or brown 

 marks, somewhat roundish in appearance, but of 

 no well-defined form. Each of these is a perfect 

 plant, very simple indeed, but produced from 

 seed, growing, and producing seed in its turn. 

 It derives its nourishment from the substance of 

 the leaf, which it thus secretly converts into a 

 fine mould fit for the reception of the seeds of 

 any larger plants which may happen to be de- 

 posited in it. It belongs to a tribe of vegetables 

 not well-known, but most important in the eco- 

 nomy of nature ; not growing in soil adapted for 

 the production of other plants, but fixing them- 

 selves on all kinds of vegetable substance which 

 have attained maturity, or have ceased to live, 

 deriving sustenance from them, and crumbling 

 into dust, that they may in their turn afford a 

 resting-place for new forms of vegetable life. 

 They are called Fungi, and are not ^infrequently 

 termed a destructive tribe of plants, a character 

 which, indeed, they seem well to merit; but it 

 must be remembered, that they prey, in most 



