LATER YEARS OF A PLANT. 211 



their often brief but always eventful life, from the first 

 appearance of a small microscopic cell to their last 

 burying-place under our feet, through all the glories and 

 delicacies of vegetable life, beginning with the softened 

 and decayed germ, and ending with the fossil coal. We 

 see that each plant has a life of its own, that there dwells 

 still in each tree a Dryad who watches over it and de- 

 termines its growth, or sighs her last when it dies. We 

 observe the beautiful harmony that exists between all 

 their parts and the world that surrounds them. How 

 the roots fasten themselves to the earth on which they 

 grow, while the stem plays with every breath of air that 

 comes we know not whence. The leaves breathe the water 

 of rivers and of the atmosphere, the sun unfolds bud and 

 flower, and the seed at last connects the plant once more 

 with its future home, an eloquent witness of our own 

 blessed immortality. But there is no monument set by 

 their grave to tell us how they lived and what they 

 achieved. Yet, they had their duties to perform, and 

 faithfully have they done them. Well may we, then, in 

 conclusion, ask For what purpose does the plant spring 

 up, the soil feed and nourish it, and the blessed sun ma- 

 ture its seed? 



Plants satisfy the common necessities of man and beast. 

 They nourish man's body in health, they restore him in 

 sickness; they give him the clothing that covers him, the 

 varied hues that delight his eye, and the odors which re- 

 fresh his senses ; the timber of which his houses, his fac- 

 tories, and his ships, are partly or wholly constructed all 

 these are but a few of the many benefits which the veget- 



