PLANTS AND BOTANISTS. 



[1852. 



the life of the parent tree ; the cells of various kinds — those 

 external to the central sac and those of its interior — have multi- 

 plied abundantly, and enlarged their several chmensions. The 

 sac itself has become twenty times as lai'ge as it was formerl}', 

 and is filled with lesser ceUs, among which a change commences. 

 Certain of them ("the number varying in diti'ereut tribes) grow 

 laro-er than the others, and those that are between their larger 

 ceUs (corpuscles) and the wall of the containing sac divide them- 

 selves each into four by transverse vertical partitions. The pur- 

 pose of this division is the construction of an avenue of approach, 

 guarded by four new (Jells, and leading into the greater cell or cor- 

 puscle that hes below. 



All this cell-making, and changing, and re-arrauging, is pre- 

 paratory to the inauguration of the germ of the future pine-tree. 

 But other changes must be eflected before that germ can begin. In 

 the cavity of each corpuscle new free cells are produced, among 

 which one — the lowermost — ^has a special mission of its own. 

 After the pollen tubes have forced their way, guided by unerring 

 instinct, through the substance of the egg-miiss, through the wall 

 of the included sac, and through the canal formed by the four 

 cells that separate each corpuscle from that wall, this one begins 

 to enlarge. Against the membrane of the corpuscle itself the 

 extremity of the pollen-tube lies. It is then that the lowermost 

 of the new-born cells mthin the corpuscle begins to grow and to 

 produce within itself a new generation of cells, commencing with 

 a free cell that divides itself into two ; these re-di\'iding, make 

 four, from which, by a fresh operation of division, result eight. 

 Of these eight, the four lower ones divide again, until, by force 

 of pressm-e, the mother-cell is bui-st, and its matricidal progeny, 

 combined among themselves, lodge in the dissolving membrane 

 of the egg-mass. 



This is the beginning of the end. The mass of cells thus 

 lodo-ed has a four-fold constitution, being made up of four rows 

 that separate from each other like so many filaments. And now 

 the end is in view. For the lowermost cell of each of these fila- 

 ments ('suspensorsj becomes, by a new process of division and 

 miUtiplication, the embryo, the germ of the future pine-tree. 



But Nature, after an intricate and seemingly tiresome series of 

 proceedings, having at length given birth to the germ — there 

 beiuo- as many stages in its manufacture as in a complicated 

 machinery process devised by inventive man for some very sim- 

 ple though profitable residt — is not content with her laboui-s of 

 multiplication and germ creation. No sooner is the begmning 

 of the new being perfected, than a work of fearful destruction 

 commences. 



Fom- times as many germ-plants have been produced as there 

 were " corpuscles " in the s<ac within the egg. B^or each of the 

 cells so styled has resulted in giving origin to a body that has 

 divided into four sections, and each of its four filamentous seg- 

 ments has developed a true germ at its extremity. In some of 

 the pinas there are as many as five corpuscles formed in every 

 efg-mass ; in some of the junipers, as many as eight of these 

 bodies. The result of the fertilization of the egg is, therefore, the 

 production in the former of as many as twenty pine-germs — in 

 the latter, of as many as thirty iuci[)ient junipers. But the world 

 is not destined t<5 have the benefit of these baby plantations. 

 Out of the twenty gemis in the pine-eggs, and the thirty in the 

 juniper egg, only one, in each case, is intended to survive. One 

 favoured "infant, although as yet a microscopic embryo, is nur- 

 tured and reared at the expense of all its brethren. That tyrant 

 one arrests their growth, and pushes them rudely aside. They 

 waste awa)', and soon cease 'to exist: the chosen one only has a 

 chance of growing up into a tree. 



Such arc the lately anmuinced fruits of the miuulc researches 



of Hofmeister, a German botanist, who has worthily following in 

 the wake of Robert Brown. The complexity of the changes, the 

 simplicity of the operations and organs by which they are brought 

 about, and the strangeness of the result, leave an impression of 

 amazement on the mind of the botanist, knowing, as he does, 

 that in many plants, yet higher in the scale of vegetable organi- 

 zation, the process of reproduction is comparatively simple,though 

 sufficiently wonderful and mysterious. By endeavouring to des- 

 cribe these phenomena in unscientific language, we cannot but 

 fail to convey anything like a full sense of their singularitj'. Our 

 attempt, may, however, serve to show, by example, how wond- 

 rous are the minute secrets into .which the microscopic observer 

 endeavoui's, not wholly without success, to penetrate. 



And now a word about the investigator's of plants. 



Of all orders of naturalists, that of botanists is mo.st prolific in 

 individuals. There is scarcely a town of moderate dimensions in 

 Europe which is not the home of one or more votaries of the grace- 

 ful and gentle science, 'i he same may be said of North America, 

 or, at least, of the United States. Natural history is a^ religion, 

 and Botany is one of its sects. But, unlike the sects of most 

 religious, there is neither hate nor jealousy between them. The 

 botanist, the zoologist, and the geologist, can all worship side by 

 side, and offer homage to the same Great God, according to their 

 several faiths and forms, without seeking to close the doors of 

 Nature's temple against each other. Botany is a religion of love. 

 It is the hfe so beautifully defined in the moral of the " Ancient 

 Mariner :" — 



" He livetli best who loveth best 

 All things both great and small ; 



For the great God who loveth us. 

 He made aud loveth all." 



If moroseness, or viciousness, or indigestion, or envy, (for natur- 

 ahsts being mortals, are afflcted occasionally with these original 

 sins,) wiU sometimes work in the brains or stomachs of its devo- 

 tees, and make an occasional delinquent prick the soul of his 

 neighbour with the stiletto of harsh and galling criticism, it is 

 not on account (if that neighbour's shade of belief. That, at 

 least, matter's not. But though a Schleiden, intellectually athle- 

 tic, yet ill-regulated in his strength, may delight in his striking 

 out at random, — or a Watson, indefatigable and deservedly illus- 

 trious in statistics, but' grown misanthrophic by working over- 

 much when in ill humour, find a melancholy in attributing evil 

 motives to his fellow-labourer's — the great congregation of bota- 

 nists is at peace with itself and friendly with its f)hilosophical 

 neighbours. The wanderer among them who shares in their 

 tastes, needs no introduction, not even the mention of his name, 

 to ensure a welcome. His fame may have spread among the 

 gatherers of flowei'S in all climates, and he may find his physiog- 

 nomy framed and glazed, occupying an honourable place among 

 the Lares and Penates of his enteitainer — or he may be utterly 

 undistinguished, the author of neither book, nor paper, nor com- 

 munication, as yet undignified by having genus or even species 

 named after him — famous or obsctu'e, provided that he show 

 proof of the true faith of a botanist — and aU who trust in the 

 same creed, will cherish liim as the early Christians did a 

 stranger-believer. Let him only exhibit his \-asculum and folio, 

 and he will be joyously received, naj', in many instances, find 

 bed and board freely offered. We speak from experience. More 

 than once, in countries where we could ill express our wants in 

 intelligible language, our damp sheets of drying pajirr spread out 

 on the bench by the inn dooi's, aud our well filled vaseuiuni, have 

 served us in good stead and secured for us hospitable entertainei's, 

 worker's in the same pleasant field, who now, after a lapse of yeai-s, 

 are numbered among our firm aud valued friends. 



Nor is Botany the science only of a cla.«s, even, though, ]ier- 

 haps, on the whole the doctors have the best of it. In its train 



