September, 1909 
AMERICAN HOMES AND GARDENS 
A water lily at noon 
The lily closing at evening 
The lily closed and sinking under water 
Do Plants Think? 
By Percy Collins 
MD) PLANTS think? The question is one 
& that must often formulate itself in the mind 
of every flower lover. We wonder whether 
the silent leaves and stems miss and mourn 
the flower which we have just gathered; 
whether the flower itself feels the pain of 
approaching decay and death. And while 
we are fully conscious that our thoughts border on the 
sentimental, we fail in our efforts entirely to dispel them. 
If, at such time, we take the trouble carefully to examine 
our ideas, we shall probably find that we are more or less 
hampered by the popular conception—or, rather, miscon- 
ception—that “plants are not really alive.” This notion is 
a very common one. Not that plants are thought to be dead 
things in the sense that sand and stones are dead; but their 
life is regarded as something entirely different from, and 
far less real than, that enjoyed by members of the animal 
kingdom. It may be said at once that this notion is entirely 
erroneous. Plants are just as much living things as horses, 
dogs, cats and even men. They eat, they drink, they sleep; 
they have likes and dislikes; they overcome difficulties in the 
way of growth and development which can never have 
A long-leaved sundew with freshly caught fly 
(magnified) 
The young leaves of a sensitive 
plant—awake 
crossed the path of their parents, and which, therefore, call 
for original ingenuity; finally, at the appointed season, they 
reproduce their kind, and not infrequently make provision 
for the well-being of their offspring. In view of facts such 
as these we begin to realize that our question ‘Do plants 
think?” is not, perhaps, so wildly imaginative as we may 
have at first supposed. It may not ,indeed, be possible to 
answer it by a definite “Yes” or ‘““No”; for men of science 
tell us nothing which suggests the conclusion that plants feel 
and plan after the precise manner of animals. We know 
nothing of plant nerves and plant brains. But a study of 
vegetable life affords us abundant evidence of plant ingenuity 
and prudence. We are convinced, too, that plants feel and 
know; and in the end we are almost forced to the conclusion 
that, in some mysterious manner of which we know nothing, 
plants possess a power of thought and discrimination not so 
very far removed from that which we see governing the 
actions of many animals. 
In order that we may obtain a glimpse of what we may, 
venture to term the cleverness and prudence of plants, let us 
make a brief examination of some phases of vegetable life. 
All those who own gardens and conservatories, or who will 
The same plant when leaves are 
closed up 
