THE FOOD OF PLANTS. 265 



istry. The most tiny, feeble leaf, or blade of grass, 

 has a power in chemical decomposition greater by 

 far than is possessed by Liebig, Boussingault, or 

 any of th^ great experimenters of the age. The 

 separating in silence, in the quiet of the meadows, 

 by organisms so frail that we can crush them be- 

 tween the thumb and finger, of a compound so 

 fixed as carbonic acid, is one of the marvels in 

 nature which puzzles and confounds the philosopher, 

 and leads him to bow in humility before the God 

 of nature, whose power so infinitely surpasses that 

 of man. But after all, this analytical power of the 

 plant is no less amazing than its synthetical capabil- 

 ities. The work of tearing apart oxidized bodies, 

 is immediately followed by that of rearranging* the 

 elements, and forming new compounds still more 

 complex, and into these, as a fixed principle, less 

 oxygen is allowed to enter. The great work of the 

 plant is, to disassociate oxygen from compounds, 

 and thus store up energies which are made appar- 

 ent when we burn vegetable substances as fuel 

 upon our hearthstones, or as food in our bodies. 

 All the forces resulting from heat and muscular 

 exertion have their origin in plants, and however 

 great may be the exhibition of power, the leaves of 

 the trees, and the grasses of the field, have utilized 

 or elaborated it all from the solar rays. 



Although the food of plants, as well as the 



