YOUNGER YEARS OF A PLANT. 167 



the palm its sweet wine. That part of the sap which 

 is not absorbed in its way upward, and not given out 

 to the air through the leaves, returns again on its mys- 

 terious errand, depositing here and there the material most 

 needed, and hoarding up, at intervals, large quantities that 

 are not immediately required for future wants. Such 

 provisions, carefully stowed away, are found in the potato, 

 which is little else than a magazine of nutritive matter, 

 or in the sage of palm trees and the caoutchouc of South 

 America. Lastly, that part of the material imbibed, which 

 is useless or might be injurious for plants, like animals, 

 may be poisoned is thrown out again at night in the 

 form of manna or resin; and thus secures the plant from 

 all dangers. 



All these features in the life of plants, however, are 

 visible to the microscope only. What we see with the 

 unarmed eye, is not less wonderful. The tiny seed once 

 intrusted to the bosom of mother earth, as soon as the 

 sunlight falls upon it, and genial beams warm the light 

 crust under which it is buried, begins to move and to 

 change. Its starch is converted into sugar and gum, upon 

 which the young plant is to feed during the first days of 

 its existence. The tiny root peeps forth from the husk, 

 and by a mysteriously directed power, plunges downward 

 into the fertile soil, whilst the slender plumule pushes 

 upwards towards the light. The soil cracks and heaves, 

 and at last the infant vegetable being emerges fresh and 

 moist into the world of air and sunshine ; with the un- 

 folding of its first pair of leaves, and with the first light- 

 ing of a sunbeam on their tender tissues, commences that 



