CHAPTER III 



THE SEED 



LET us begin our survey of the living functions of a 

 plant with the awakening of the seed after its long 

 winter rest under the snow, or at the moment when it 

 is cast into the earth in spring. Probably no other 

 phenomenon in the life of a plant has attracted so much 

 attention as this, its first manifestation. Scientists, 

 philosophers, and poets have alike meditated upon it ; 

 a mystic and poetic veil hangs over it ; we find in it the 

 personification of life itself, the symbol of awakening 

 from dreams and death. There is something indeed 

 attractive, something that stimulates thought in this 

 sudden awakening of activity in an object hitherto 

 apparently indistinguishable from the rest of inanimate 

 nature. In fact there is something enigmatical about 

 this hidden and arrested life which suddenly bursts 

 forth again. Without indulging in the poetical fancies 

 with which imagination loves to enshroud this pheno- 

 menon, let us try to submit it to strict scientific analysis ; 

 let us try to reduce it, complicated as it is, to its lowest 

 terms and explain the difference between a resting 

 seed and an active one. We may thus discover wherein 

 the very impulse consists which provokes this activity. 

 Outwardly the renewed activity of a seed is manifested 

 by its swelling and by the consequent rupture of its seed- 

 coat, followed by the appearance first of the root and 

 then of the plumule, i.e. of the stem with its first leaves. 

 These organs develop and increase in size every day. 

 It is obvious that this development must proceed at the 

 expense of some substance, which serves as food for the 



