Evolution of Ve(/6tal Life. 121 



frame-work like that of the diatoms ? The Rev. J. G. 

 "Wood says of flint in grasses and in the horse-tails or 

 equisetae, "so plentiful is this substance, and so equally is 

 it distributed, that it can be separated by heat or acids from 

 the vegetable i)arts of the plant, and will still preserve the 

 form of the original cuticle with its cell-walls, stomata and 

 hairs perfectly well defined." Is it strange that a plant 

 should have motion ? Darwin has shown, by multitudinous 

 experiments, that many climbing-plants regularly revolve 

 at their growing ends, from right to left, or from left to 

 right ; that these revolutions are made in specific times ; 

 that their tendrils, when they have them, likewise revolve, 

 and move forward to avoid clasping the stems upon which 

 they grow ; that sometimes, even if touched on one side by 

 a weight no greater than 1-ijOth of a grain, they will curve 

 toward that side, and subsequently become relaxed ; that 

 when they find a suitable object, they will twine around it, 

 and having fastened themselves securely, draw up into a 

 spiral spring, thus holding the plant more safely to its sup- 

 port, and at the same time providing a method by which it 

 can yield to the pressure of the wind without disaster. 



Is it in the character of their food ? It used to be said 

 that animals could only subsist iipon organic matter pro- 

 vided by vegetables, either immediately, or indirectly 

 through the substance of other animals, while vegetables 

 drew their nourishment only from air, earth and water, elab- 

 orating organic from inorganic matter. But here again we 

 were at fault. I am the happy possessor of a few rocky 

 acres in the north-eastern corner of Connecticut. At the 

 foot of my slope is a pond, with a meadow and a stretch of 

 marshy ground rich in flowers of many sorts. Among 

 these is the beautiful sundew, with its little round or oval 

 leaves, covered with slender hairs, each holding upon its 

 summit a pure and brilliant ruby drop. There it lies in 

 wait to catch incautious insects, ants or flies, and when once 

 they have ventured upon its shining trap, gently folds them 

 in and holds them in a close embrace, until all their avail- 

 able substance has been absorbed. There, also, in hun- 

 dreds, — yes, in thousands, — is the curious pitcher-plant, al- 

 ways holding out its cups to catch unwary stragglers, and 

 then using the same cups in which to prepare them for its 

 daily meal. In the South there are other species of these, 

 which have a sugary trail leading over the edge of the cups 



