1869.] LITEBA TUBE SCIENCL AND A1?T 397 with Marjoram's attention to business; and it is only just to say that they never interfered with it at all during the lengthened period when the interests of others so vitally depended upon his diligence and exertions. During that crisis, for the first time in his life, he almost forgot his flowers, or thought of them only on the one welcome day of the week, when he rested from his professional labors. But he indemnified himself amply for the sacrifices of that busy and trying time by the redoubled ardor with which he returned to his pinks and roses as soon as prospects brightened and the firm began again to prosper. He was always, however, a conscientious, hard-working attorney, and, though far inferior in ability to his young partner, was so indispensable to him that, even had the ruling passion betrayed itself more provokingly or inopportunely than in fact it ever did, Alexander would have borne it with the most good-humored equanimity. On the whole, they worked admirably well together; they were not only strongly attached to one another, but they were thoroughly agreed upon the principles on which their business was to be conducted. Prudent men, involved in litigation, will always look narrowly to the reputation of their solicitors; but Messrs. Marjoram and Alexander looked just as narrowly to the reputation of their clients. They shunned the business of the greatest mercantile houses, whose system of trading they had reason to suspect of being fraudulent and hollow. They refused to have any thing to do with the banks that commenced the business of the day with prayers and psalmody, and took only evangelical clerks into their service. Thus, when such a house broke and spread misery and ruin far and wide, they were in a position to throw their talents and activity into the scale of the widow and orphan, instead of being committed to the defence of the blackest criminals that can stand at the bar of the Old Bailey. In prosecuting cases of this description, they had repeatedly distinguished themselves; and it was notorious that they never looked to pecuniary remuneration alone when once they were engaged in tracking the mazes of a dishonest bankruptcy, or arresting the career of a bubble company. But for some time back, owing to Alexander's versatility, and the necessity his active mind was under of finding new scope for the ability which had been diverted from its original proper destination, the firm had been to some extent engaged in the management of landed property. This, which began with mere auditorship and by degrees went further, was particularly Alexander's province. It was not an extension of the business which Mr. Marjoram quite relished, and latterly Alexander himself had been rather disposed to contract than increase it. But more than enough has been said of these dry matters. The handsome youth of the Orta days was now one of the finest men of mature years in England. His personal attractions, with his social qualities and old devotional dispositions to the fairer part of the creation, led him, it will easily be believed, into many other resorts besides the courts of law or the committee-rooms of the House of Commons. Such a man was sure to be a welcome guest wherever he appeared. Whether it was accident, as probably it was, or whether it was owing to his popularity with the sex, certain it is that he had not been many years in his father's shoes before his office counted an unusual number of lady-clients-dowagers, heiresses, fair wards-inchancery, etc., the only serious result of which as yet was that it gained for Alexander the sobriquet, by which he often went in legal circles, of "the Lady's Attorney." [TO BE CONTINUED.] THE SOUL OF PLANTS. T HE veneration with which some plants and trees were regarded in the earlier ages of the world survives; and, although one of our modern bards has complained that The earth is rife With the teeming life Of the golden tribes no more," we find that the old-time love of the people,still clings to many a shrub and tree and flower, even in our matter-of-fact generation. Madame Dudevant has written some very pleasing letters on botany in the Revue des Deux Jfondes; and Victor Meunier, a graceful writer in the outskirts of the scientific world, comments upon them. Both refer to a very attractive and original work, by the botanical savant Boscowitz, entitled "The Soul of Plants "-the designation which is placed at the head of this sketch. Says Meunier, with a touch of sarcasm at the point of his pen, "In our time, the human soul is so frequently a subject of dispute, that it is not without some surprise that one hears any thing said about the souls of plants! We are ready to believe that the phrase is merely a figurative expression, and that, by the word soul, are meant the hue, the grace, the charm, the attraction, of the plant; its vivacious, majestic, or languishing attitude and presence-in fine, all that goes to make up its external aspect and effect. But, no; it is really the vegetative psychology of plants that the author means. Professor Boscowitz propounds the following clearly-defined question: "Is the plant an animated creature, capable of voluntary acts?" In replying to this query, he cites some of the most curious facts of vegetative life. Studied with penetration and sagacity, grouped with skill, and poetically interpreted, these facts seem absolutely new to us, although they are taking place before our eyes every day. The opinion, that the motions of plants are not merely mechanical and physical, or, in other words, produced by blind force, but are determined by a perceptive intelligence, partaking of the nature of the instinct that governs animals, has already been enunciated by several men of learning, and, among them, by Dr. Erasmus Darwin, the grandfather of the celebrated naturalist of our time, the elder philosopher having lived in the eighteenth century. The two most fervent partisans of the same doctrine, nowadays, are De Martius and Theodor Fechner, in Germany. Among the ancients, Anaxagoras, Pythagoras, Plato, and others scarcely less eminent, acknowledged their belief in the existence of an intelligent principle, or soul, in plants. The laws of Manou, even, consecrate the idea, for, they say: " Plants and animals have, within them, a sense of their existence, and have also their pains and pleasures." Admitting this doctrine, for a few moments, if we suppose that the variety of sensations is as multiple in plants as their varieties of species, what an enchanting stir of life must play through that vegetative realm which comprises within its vast boundaries the violets and daisies of our meadows, the superb flowers of our gardens, and the odd or magnificent products of the tropical flora, and embraces those mysterious plants whose sensitiveness and capacity for transformation of hue and shape border on the marvellous. Professor Boscowitz particularly mentions two or three of these exceptional plants, which reveal a wonderful vitality. The 3limosa is the first he selects. It, upon the slightest shock, or the least agitation of the ground it stands in, closes its leaves, bends its tendrils downward, and seems to fade with terror, as a frail child might turn pallid in swooning. The Flower of Mary, also called the Rose of Judea, the Rose of Jericho, and, scientifically, the Anastatica, is another of these remarkable plants. The Arabs give it the name we have first used, and hold it in great reverence. When it has expanded in a soil not well adapted to the fructification of its seeds, it detaches the root that kept it in its place, holding on by a very delicate little fibre only, and, at last, letting that go, abandons itself to the wind, that sweeps it away to some moister and more invigorating soil, in which it may drop its ripened seed without apprehension. Prone on the ground, and withered after having disengaged its roots, it at once brightens up again, and recovers its freshness for the duration of this new but brief existence. Sometimes it repeats this process several times, but the exhaustion experienced during its journey through the air leaves it sterile ever after. The Resurrection Flower is still more amazing. Only two individuals of the species have been known, and they grew on the same plant. The latter was given to Dr. Deck, the naturalist, by an Arab whose life he had saved. Some time afterward, the doctor gave one of these precious flowers to the celebrated Humboldt. The Arab's gift was by no means attractive, at first sight-a slender stalk supporting two small, dry and scorched-looking pellets! But the son of the Desert strenuously affirmed that this treasure had been found in a tomb, upon the bosom of an ancient Egyptian priestess, and loudly vaunted its wonderful properties. In truth, the professor had hardly moistened the flower, ere he saw that "the Arab was right. This plant exerts a powerful, an ineffable charm over the man who beholds it for the first time. Scarcely has one sprinkled a little water on it, ere it begins to stir; the stalk rises erect; the flower slowly opens; and the frail petals unfold one by one, 1869.] LIT. ERATUREF, SCIENCE, AND) ART. 397
The Soul of Plants [pp. 397-398]
Appletons' journal: a magazine of general literature. / Volume 1, Issue 13
1869.] LITEBA TUBE SCIENCL AND A1?T 397 with Marjoram's attention to business; and it is only just to say that they never interfered with it at all during the lengthened period when the interests of others so vitally depended upon his diligence and exertions. During that crisis, for the first time in his life, he almost forgot his flowers, or thought of them only on the one welcome day of the week, when he rested from his professional labors. But he indemnified himself amply for the sacrifices of that busy and trying time by the redoubled ardor with which he returned to his pinks and roses as soon as prospects brightened and the firm began again to prosper. He was always, however, a conscientious, hard-working attorney, and, though far inferior in ability to his young partner, was so indispensable to him that, even had the ruling passion betrayed itself more provokingly or inopportunely than in fact it ever did, Alexander would have borne it with the most good-humored equanimity. On the whole, they worked admirably well together; they were not only strongly attached to one another, but they were thoroughly agreed upon the principles on which their business was to be conducted. Prudent men, involved in litigation, will always look narrowly to the reputation of their solicitors; but Messrs. Marjoram and Alexander looked just as narrowly to the reputation of their clients. They shunned the business of the greatest mercantile houses, whose system of trading they had reason to suspect of being fraudulent and hollow. They refused to have any thing to do with the banks that commenced the business of the day with prayers and psalmody, and took only evangelical clerks into their service. Thus, when such a house broke and spread misery and ruin far and wide, they were in a position to throw their talents and activity into the scale of the widow and orphan, instead of being committed to the defence of the blackest criminals that can stand at the bar of the Old Bailey. In prosecuting cases of this description, they had repeatedly distinguished themselves; and it was notorious that they never looked to pecuniary remuneration alone when once they were engaged in tracking the mazes of a dishonest bankruptcy, or arresting the career of a bubble company. But for some time back, owing to Alexander's versatility, and the necessity his active mind was under of finding new scope for the ability which had been diverted from its original proper destination, the firm had been to some extent engaged in the management of landed property. This, which began with mere auditorship and by degrees went further, was particularly Alexander's province. It was not an extension of the business which Mr. Marjoram quite relished, and latterly Alexander himself had been rather disposed to contract than increase it. But more than enough has been said of these dry matters. The handsome youth of the Orta days was now one of the finest men of mature years in England. His personal attractions, with his social qualities and old devotional dispositions to the fairer part of the creation, led him, it will easily be believed, into many other resorts besides the courts of law or the committee-rooms of the House of Commons. Such a man was sure to be a welcome guest wherever he appeared. Whether it was accident, as probably it was, or whether it was owing to his popularity with the sex, certain it is that he had not been many years in his father's shoes before his office counted an unusual number of lady-clients-dowagers, heiresses, fair wards-inchancery, etc., the only serious result of which as yet was that it gained for Alexander the sobriquet, by which he often went in legal circles, of "the Lady's Attorney." [TO BE CONTINUED.] THE SOUL OF PLANTS. T HE veneration with which some plants and trees were regarded in the earlier ages of the world survives; and, although one of our modern bards has complained that The earth is rife With the teeming life Of the golden tribes no more," we find that the old-time love of the people,still clings to many a shrub and tree and flower, even in our matter-of-fact generation. Madame Dudevant has written some very pleasing letters on botany in the Revue des Deux Jfondes; and Victor Meunier, a graceful writer in the outskirts of the scientific world, comments upon them. Both refer to a very attractive and original work, by the botanical savant Boscowitz, entitled "The Soul of Plants "-the designation which is placed at the head of this sketch. Says Meunier, with a touch of sarcasm at the point of his pen, "In our time, the human soul is so frequently a subject of dispute, that it is not without some surprise that one hears any thing said about the souls of plants! We are ready to believe that the phrase is merely a figurative expression, and that, by the word soul, are meant the hue, the grace, the charm, the attraction, of the plant; its vivacious, majestic, or languishing attitude and presence-in fine, all that goes to make up its external aspect and effect. But, no; it is really the vegetative psychology of plants that the author means. Professor Boscowitz propounds the following clearly-defined question: "Is the plant an animated creature, capable of voluntary acts?" In replying to this query, he cites some of the most curious facts of vegetative life. Studied with penetration and sagacity, grouped with skill, and poetically interpreted, these facts seem absolutely new to us, although they are taking place before our eyes every day. The opinion, that the motions of plants are not merely mechanical and physical, or, in other words, produced by blind force, but are determined by a perceptive intelligence, partaking of the nature of the instinct that governs animals, has already been enunciated by several men of learning, and, among them, by Dr. Erasmus Darwin, the grandfather of the celebrated naturalist of our time, the elder philosopher having lived in the eighteenth century. The two most fervent partisans of the same doctrine, nowadays, are De Martius and Theodor Fechner, in Germany. Among the ancients, Anaxagoras, Pythagoras, Plato, and others scarcely less eminent, acknowledged their belief in the existence of an intelligent principle, or soul, in plants. The laws of Manou, even, consecrate the idea, for, they say: " Plants and animals have, within them, a sense of their existence, and have also their pains and pleasures." Admitting this doctrine, for a few moments, if we suppose that the variety of sensations is as multiple in plants as their varieties of species, what an enchanting stir of life must play through that vegetative realm which comprises within its vast boundaries the violets and daisies of our meadows, the superb flowers of our gardens, and the odd or magnificent products of the tropical flora, and embraces those mysterious plants whose sensitiveness and capacity for transformation of hue and shape border on the marvellous. Professor Boscowitz particularly mentions two or three of these exceptional plants, which reveal a wonderful vitality. The 3limosa is the first he selects. It, upon the slightest shock, or the least agitation of the ground it stands in, closes its leaves, bends its tendrils downward, and seems to fade with terror, as a frail child might turn pallid in swooning. The Flower of Mary, also called the Rose of Judea, the Rose of Jericho, and, scientifically, the Anastatica, is another of these remarkable plants. The Arabs give it the name we have first used, and hold it in great reverence. When it has expanded in a soil not well adapted to the fructification of its seeds, it detaches the root that kept it in its place, holding on by a very delicate little fibre only, and, at last, letting that go, abandons itself to the wind, that sweeps it away to some moister and more invigorating soil, in which it may drop its ripened seed without apprehension. Prone on the ground, and withered after having disengaged its roots, it at once brightens up again, and recovers its freshness for the duration of this new but brief existence. Sometimes it repeats this process several times, but the exhaustion experienced during its journey through the air leaves it sterile ever after. The Resurrection Flower is still more amazing. Only two individuals of the species have been known, and they grew on the same plant. The latter was given to Dr. Deck, the naturalist, by an Arab whose life he had saved. Some time afterward, the doctor gave one of these precious flowers to the celebrated Humboldt. The Arab's gift was by no means attractive, at first sight-a slender stalk supporting two small, dry and scorched-looking pellets! But the son of the Desert strenuously affirmed that this treasure had been found in a tomb, upon the bosom of an ancient Egyptian priestess, and loudly vaunted its wonderful properties. In truth, the professor had hardly moistened the flower, ere he saw that "the Arab was right. This plant exerts a powerful, an ineffable charm over the man who beholds it for the first time. Scarcely has one sprinkled a little water on it, ere it begins to stir; the stalk rises erect; the flower slowly opens; and the frail petals unfold one by one, 1869.] LIT. ERATUREF, SCIENCE, AND) ART. 397
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"The Soul of Plants [pp. 397-398]." In the digital collection Making of America Journal Articles. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/acw8433.1-01.013. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 21, 2025.