Did not go forth of us,
As if we had them not.

'twere all alike,

Spirits are not finely touched, But to fine issues; nor Nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence, But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor, Both thanks and use.

MERCY.

The quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven,
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown.
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings;
It is an attribute to God himself;

And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice.

MIND THE TEST OF MAN.

"Tis the mind that makes the body rich:
And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,
So honour peereth in the meanest habit.

What is the jay more precious than the lark,
Because his feathers are more beautiful?
Or is the adder better than the eel,

Because his painted skin contents the eye?
O, no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse
For this poor furniture and mean array.

SHAKSPEARE.

PLANTS, AND HOW THEY GROW.

Acrogenous, (acros, gennao, G.) grow- | Embryo, (embryon, G.) the first rudi

ing at the top.

Assimilate, (ad, similis, L.) to convert into a like substance. Hence also assimilation.

Cell, (cella, L.) a small bag or cavity. Hence cellular, composed of cells. Cotyledon, (cotyledon, G.) a seed-lobe. Hence also, acotyledonous, monocotyledonous, (monos, G.) and dicotyledonous, (dis, G.)

Elaborate, (e, labor, L.) to refine or improve by successive operations. Hence also laboratory, a place where such operations are carried on (usually a place for chemical experiments). Elimination, (e, limen, L.) throwing off or setting free

ments of something not yet developed.

Endogenous, (endon, gennao, G.) growing inwards.

Equilibrium, æquus, libra, L.) equal
balance; just or suitable proportion.
Exogenous, (exo, gennao, G.) growing
outwards.

Germ, (germen, L.) that from which a
thing springs. Hence germinate (to
sprout), germination, germinative.
Plumule, (plumula, L.)
Radicle, (radicula, radix, L.)
Spongiole, (spongia, L., G., also Eng
sponge.)

Spore, (Spora, G.) Hence also spor
ule.

IMPORTANCE OF PLANTS.

Plants, or vegetables, form the connecting link between the animal and mineral kingdoms. We cannot, generally speaking, feed on minerals, though strange stories are told of certain savage tribes that sometimes eat clay, and we ourselves season our food with salt. But plants draw nourishment from the inorganic constituents of the soil in which they grow, and, by a wonderful process of assimilation, transform that nourishment into their own substance. It is then, in many cases, fit for the support of men and other animals. To plants we are also indebted for much of our clothing, for many valuable medicines, and for a great variety of other useful articles, which are applied to purposes innumerable.

In no part of his works has the Creator shown his goodness more conspicuously than in the vegetable kingdom. He has not only made bountiful provision for our wants, but taken pains to gratify and charm us. The greenness of the grass, the splendid colouring of flowers, the graceful forms of trees, and all the varied beauty of a summer landscape, are wholly unnecessary for the accomplishment of the main purposes which plants were intended to serve. But they are added for our enjoyment, to show us that our Maker wishes us to be happy. The faculty of discerning and appreciating beauty is his gift, and he has not left us with

G

out ample scope for its exercise. It is well, then, that we should study the vegetable creation with those sentiments of gratitude which a bounty so generous ought always to inspire.

Figures cannot express, nor imagination conceive, the immense number of individual plants with which the earth is clothed. Even of distinct species, there are known at present upwards of 120,000, and there is little doubt that many more will yet be discovered. They exhibit the most wonderful diversity of size and form. The mould which gathers on decaying bodies consists of vegetables too small to be individually distinguished by the naked eye; while some of the largest forest trees rise to the height of 200 feet, and the banyan covers so vast an area, that a considerable army may repose under its shade.

Plants perform a very important function in purifying the atmosphere. Into this reservoir there is constantly poured immense quantities of carbonic acid gas, produced by the burning of fire, and the breathing of animals. By these same processes oxygen is consumed, so that the air, were there no means of compensation, would soon become deficient in oxygen, and overcharged with carbonic acid. This is, in fact, what usually happens in a close, ill-ventilated room, in which people are crowded, or fires kept burning. The effects of such a vitiation of the whole atmosphere would be most disastrous. Oxygen is essential to the maintenance of life; and in proportion as the necessary supply of this substance in the atmosphere is diminished, the vital functions of animals go on languidly, and their existence becomes comfortless. Apart altogether from the noxious qualities of the carbonic acid which would take its place, the mere abstraction of the oxygen of the air would soon be followed by the death of every living thing. Now all these consequences are averted by the influence of vegetable respiration. The leaves of plants inhale carbonic acid from the air, decompose it, and appropriate the carbon, letting the oxygen of the acid go free. Thus a perfect equilibrium is maintained among the constituents of the

atmosphere. It is observable, however, that for this respiratory action, plants require sunlight. In the dark the elimination of oxygen ceases, and it is said (though some are of a different opinion) that a small quantity of carbonic acid is evolved. Be this as it may, there can be no reasonable doubt that we have here a constant circulation of benefits between the two great provinces of organized nature. The plant purifies the air which the animal has poisoned, and by the same process extracts from it its own carbonaceous food.

GERMINATION.

EVERY one has seen the little seed cast into the ground, and watched with eagerness the first appearance of the tender blade, which gradually developed into plant and flower. If we examine of what such a seed consists, we shall find that it contains, in most cases, provision for two grand purposes; first, for the safety of the germ or embryo, and, secondly, for the temporary support of the future plant. The germ, delicate and brittle beyond all other substances, is folded up within one or two leaves or lobes, called cotyledons. Either included in these, or immediately surrounding them, is a supply of nutritious matter to feed the little organism till it is able to draw nourishment from the earth in sufficient quantity for its demands.

When the seed is put into the ground, and there exposed to the influence of heat, air, and moisture, this dead nutritious matter begins to undergo certain chemical changes, whereby further heat is produced, and the living embryo soon puts forth its vital energy. From one part of it, called the radicle, a little rootlet, a (Fig. 6), pushes down into the soil; and another part, known as the plumule, sends out the sprout, c, which by and by appears above ground, and becomes gradually larger and larger, till it attains the dimensions and form of a full grown plant. The cotyledons, bb, also sometimes rise above ground, and, assuming a

green colour, perform the functions of leaves, till the ordinary leaves are developed; this is well seen in the lupin and turnip. In other cases, as in

b

FIG. 6.

the bean and pea, they remain buried in the soil, the nourishment they contain being gradually absorbed, until they shrivel up, and finally disappear. In the same way the nutritive matter which surrounds the cotyledons is also absorbed.

Those plants which have seeds with two cotyledons are called dicotyledonous. They form by far the most numerous class, including all our ordinary timber trees, and an immense number

of smaller plants. The seeds of others have but one cotyledon, which may usually be seen wrapped round the little plant in the earlier stages of its growth. These are called monocotyledonous. To this class belong the grasses, including all the varieties of grain, so valuable to man as the staple portion of his vegetable food. Among trees, it is represented by the palm, and other natives of tropical regions. There is still another class of plants, which have no seeds properly so called, but are propagated by minute cellular bodies called spores or sporules. Among these are ferns, mosses, lichens, and sea-weed. Spores have no cotyledons, and hence the plants of this third class are called acotyledonous.

The phenomena of germination are essentially the same, though different in detail, in all these classes. Both seed and spore contain the rudiments of the plants which are to spring from them, both are alike endowed with a principle of vitality, and, in the case of both, that principle will lie dormant, unless circumstances favour its development. If we keep a seed without moisture, or bury it so deep in the