Part 8

Any one of the higher animals or plants admits of analysis into _organs_, each adapted to one or more functions. Bichât (1801) showed that the body of one of the higher animals is not only a collection of organs, but also a collection of _tissues_, and the same is true of the higher plants. Analysis of the organism was carried a step further when in 1838-9 Schleiden and Schwann announced that all the higher animals and plants are made up of _cells_, which were at first supposed to consist in every case of a cell-wall, fluid contents, and a nucleus.[38] It was soon discovered that the cell-wall is as often absent as present, and that the cell-contents are not simply fluid; the nucleus is still believed to be universal. Schwann proved that nails, feathers, and tooth-enamel, though not obviously cellular, consist of nothing but cells, and it was afterwards shown that bone, cartilage, fatty tissue, and fibrous tissue arise by the activity of cells which disappear from view in the abundance of their formed products. The individual cells of a complex organism are usually themselves alive; sometimes, as in ciliated epithelium, they give indications of life longafter they have been separated from the body. The preponderating importance of the transparent jelly or protoplasm became clear when it was recognised that this alone is invariably present, and that this alone responds to stimuli. The nucleus is believed to be only a specialised part of the cell-protoplasm.

The cell-theory, like nearly every theory, was neither altogether new nor in its first form altogether complete. Before 1838 cell-division, as we should now call it, had been indistinctly seen to be the process by which the body of one of the higher animals is built up. Leeuwenhoek and Swammerdam had found a wholly cellular stage in frog-embryos (see p. 103), while Prévost and Dumas in 1824 had in effect discovered that the cells of which such embryos consist result from repeated division of an egg; Mohl in 1835 observed the actual division. Even Schwann, however, was not acquainted with the important fact that every cell arises by the division of a pre-existing cell.

Swarm-spores of algæ showed that protoplasm, when unenclosed in a cell-wall, can move about, direct its course, and change its shape. Knowledge of this fact did more than rectify the definition of the cell; it effaced one distinction between plants and animals, and gave a hint of the resemblance of primitive cells to such simple organisms as Amœba.

Martin Barry in 1843 announced that certain Protozoa (that name was not yet in use) are simple cells. He pointed out that they possess nuclei, like those of tissue-cells, and compared their increase by fission with the cleavage of the egg. Single cells were thus shown to be not only capable of locomotion, which was already known, but able to provide for their own support. The Protozoa and Protophyta (_i.e._, the simplest animals and plants, which are not always to be clearly separated) are now known to be autonomous cells, increasing by fission, and often forming colonies. Conjugation (fusion of similar individuals) often precedes fission, and when it was proved (1861-5) that ova and spermatozoa are true cells, it was seen that fertilisation, as we know it in the higher animals, is only a special form of the conjugation observed among the Protozoa. To the Protozoa it is now possible to trace, without any startling break of continuity, all the multicellular organisms, their tissues, the growth of those tissues by repeated fission, their eggs, and the process of fertilisation which precedes cleavage. The old Greek riddle, "Which came first, the fowl or the egg?" may now receive the answer: "Neither; their common starting-point is to be found in the Protozoa, which, even when adult, represent the primitive unicellular condition, to which all the higher animals revert once in every generation."

It is not without reason that biologists dwell on the unifying influence of the cell-theory, which has become a chief support of that still wider unifying influence, the _Origin of Species by Natural Selection_. When it was discovered that all living things, whether plants or animals, consist of nucleated cells which increase by fission, and that in all of them cell-fission is started anew from time to time by a cell-fusion, it was strongly suggested that resemblances so striking and so universal can only proceed from a common descent.

During the last half-century the study of cells has led to a great increase of knowledge respecting all bodily functions, whether in health or disease. We now look to it as perhaps the most hopeful source of new light upon the important question of hereditary transmission.

The Scientific Investigation of the Higher Cryptogams.

We now resume the history of a study which down to the end of the eighteenth century had yielded only meagre and uncertain results (see above, pp. 85-88). At the date in question it had been ascertained that the spores (then called "seeds") of ferns, and probably of other cryptogams, are capable of propagating the species, but no one knew precisely what part the spore played in the life-history, or could explain the true difference between a cryptogam and a flowering plant. The great improvements in the construction of the compound microscope which were effected between 1812 and 1830 rendered it possible to elucidate much more thoroughly the structure and development of the chief groups of cryptogams. The sexual reproduction of algæ was explored; moving filaments (spermatozoids) were seen to enter the chambers in which embryos afterwards formed; the conjugation of similar cells was observed in algæ and fungi, and recognised as a simple mode of sexual reproduction. The resemblance of the spermatozoids of mosses and ferns to animal spermatozoa was noted, and their participation in the process of fertilisation was more and more closely followed until at length Hofmeister in 1851 saw them fuse with the egg-cell of a fern. Suminski, whose full name, Lesczyc-Suminski, is unpronounceable by Englishmen, had discovered (in 1848) that the prothallus of a fern, which is the product of the germinated spore and had been hitherto taken for the cotyledon, bears two kinds of reproductive organs, one of which liberates spermatozoids, while an egg-cell is developed within the other. He did not correctly describe all the details, but he showed where the essential reproductive organs form, and where fertilisation is effected. The masterly researches of Hofmeister (1849-57) fused what had been a number of partial discoveries into a connected and luminous doctrine. He proved that the prothallus is one of two generations in the life-history; that it begins with a spore and ends with a fertilised egg-cell; that in the higher cryptogams there is a regular alternation of generations; that the prothallus of the fern answers to the leafy moss, while the leafy fern is the equivalent of the moss-capsule; that the egg-cell is the same structure in both cryptogams and flowering plants; that the pollen-tube and the seed are found to-day only in flowering plants; that the gymnosperms make a transition from the higher cryptogams to the angiosperms; that unity of plan pervades the whole series of mosses, ferns, fern-like plants, gymnosperms, and angiosperms. Before Darwin's _Origin of Species_ had appeared Hofmeister presented to evolutionists a clear example of a descent in which every principal term is well authenticated, while the extremes are far apart.

The Enrichment of English Gardens.

If some unreasonably patriotic Englishman should be seized with the whim of keeping none but truly British plants in his garden, he might enjoy the shade of the fir, yew, oak, ash, wych-elm, beech, aspen-poplar, hazel, rowan-tree, and the small willows, but he would have to forego the common elm, the larger poplars and willows, the larches, spruces, and cypresses, the rhododendrons, and all the shrubs popularly called laurels. Of fruits he might have the crab-apple, sloe, wild cherry, gooseberry, currants (black and red), the raspberry, strawberry, and blackberry, but none of the improved apples, pears, or plums, and no quinces, peaches, or apricots. His vegetable garden might yield cabbages, turnips, carrots, and celery (all deficient in size, flavour, and variety), but no cauliflowers, Brussels sprouts, parsley, lettuces, peas, beans, leeks, onions, or spinach. The handsomest of his flowers would be dog-roses, mallows, and primroses.

Before Europe was sufficiently enlightened to care about exact records valuable foreign plants had already been introduced. Vines, apples, pears, cherries, and plums, besides improved vegetables, such as the cauliflower, bean, garden-pea, and cucumber, had been brought from temperate Asia or Egypt. Wheat and barley, neither of them native to Europe, had to some extent replaced rye and oats, which may have existed naturally in those European countries which border on Asia. Britain, while yet a Roman province, shared in these benefits, and it is believed that the common elm, besides certain fruit-trees and pot-herbs, have been continuously grown in our island through all the troubled ages which separate us from the Romano-British times. Leek, garlic, and onion are ancient acquisitions. To our Old-English forefathers garlic was the _spear-leek_, distinguished by its long, narrow leaf from the broad-leaved common leek, just as a garfish was distinguished from other fishes by its long body and pointed head; onion was the _enne-_ or _ynne-leek_ (onion-leek); the most important of the three was probably that which retained the root-word without prefix—the leek proper.

During many centuries, when the rights of small proprietors were little respected and knowledge was scanty, the religious houses were distinguished by the diligence with which they tended their gardens. Flowers, fruits, and simples were cultivated, and plants were now and then imported from foreign monasteries. The English names of the plants, which are often adaptations of Latin words, still testify to the care of gardeners who were in the habit of using Latin.

Much improvement was not to be expected so long as England suffered from frequent and desolating wars within her own borders. When these at last subsided, great English gardens, such as those of Nonsuch, Hatfield, Theobalds, and Hampton Court, began to parade their beauty; strange trees, shrubs, and flowers were brought from the continent, and as early as Queen Elizabeth's time our shrubberies and walks were admired by spectators familiar with the best that Italy and France could show. The new horticulture was, however, long an exotic among us, and John Evelyn, whose _Sylva_ appeared in 1664, was "the first to teach gardening to speak proper English."

In the latter part of the sixteenth century the following new plants among others were brought from central or southern Europe: The poppy and star anemones, the hepatica, the common garden larkspur, the winter aconite, the sweet-William, the laburnum, Rosa centifolia (of eastern origin, the parent of countless varieties and hybrids), the myrtle, the lavender, the cyclamen, the auricula, Iris germanica, and many other Irids, the oriental hyacinth, several species of Narcissus, the white and Martagon lilies, and the absurdly named dog's-tooth-violet (really a lily). The botanist Clusius introduced the jonquil and the Tazetta narcissus from Spain to the Low Countries. The Judas-tree (_i.e._, tree of Judæa) was brought from the Mediterranean, where the hollows of the hills are filled in April with its pale-purple blooms. The white jasmine was imported from Asia, and the castor-oil plant from Africa.

The great accessions of geographical knowledge made during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries were slow to affect horticulture. Ships were then few and small, and the passage from Hispaniola or Calicut to Cadiz or Lisbon occupied weeks or even months. Moreover, the conquests of Spain and Portugal (Goa, the Moluccas, Brazil, the West Indies, Peru, and Mexico) lay mostly within the tropics, and could furnish hardly any plants capable of enduring a European winter. Special pains were, however, taken to bring over some valuable food-plants which were thought likely to thrive in Europe. Before any European landed in America the potato had been cultivated by the Indians of Peru, a country which, though lying almost under the line, rises into cool mountain-districts. Potato-tubers were soon introduced to Spain and Italy, and a little later to other parts of Europe; Raleigh's planting of potatoes on his estate near Cork came a few years later. The edible tomato, which is distinguished from the wild form by its enlarged fruits, was apparently cultivated in Peru before the first landing of the Spaniards. The unusually high proportion of edible plants among the first importations from America and other distant countries is worthy of remark. Early explorers eagerly sought for valuable food-plants, but the number of such as could be cultivated alive in Europe was very limited, and since the sixteenth century the attention of collectors has been fixed upon ornamental species simply because of the dearth of others.

European flower-gardens were enriched during the sixteenth century by the following American species: the so-called French and African marigolds (both from Mexico), sunflowers, the arbor-vitæ (Thuja occidentalis), Yucca gloriosa, and the Agave, misnamed the American Aloe.

About the same time the horse-chestnut, lilac, and syringa, or mock-orange, were first brought to central and western Europe, and with them the tulip, richest and most varied of flowering bulbs. All these reached Vienna from Constantinople, but how and when they were brought to Constantinople, or what were their native countries, are still doubtful questions. The horse-chestnut is believed to be a native of Greece, where it is said to grow wild among the mountains; probably it extends into temperate Asia as well. It is said to have reached Constantinople in 1557. Longstanding tradition derives the lilac from Persia, but botanists say that it is also indigenous to parts of south-eastern Europe. The garden-tulip is believed to be native to temperate Asia and also to Thrace; it is, of course specifically distinct from the wild tulip of northern Europe.

Chief among the travellers to whom we owe the acquisition of these favourite plants was Augier Ghislen de Busbecq, a Fleming, who was twice sent by the emperor as ambassador to the sultan. Busbecq was a keen observer and collector, and during his long and toilsome journeys was ever eager to pick up curiosities or to note new facts. Quackelbeen, a physician in Busbecq's suite, is named as another helper. The botanists Mattioli and Clusius, who presided in succession over the imperial gardens of Vienna, and Gesner of Zurich, described the plants; it is from them that we draw such imperfect knowledge as we possess of the way in which they were brought to central Europe. Clusius relates that Busbecq in 1575 received a parcel of tulip-seed from Constantinople, and being obliged to journey into France, left it with Clusius to be germinated. The tulips which came up were of various colours, an indication of long cultivation. The Turks, like the Persians, took great delight in gardens.

As North America became permanently occupied by the English, facilities for the transport of live plants to Europe steadily increased. Ships began to sail frequently to and fro, for the crossing of the Atlantic was but a small affair in comparison with the voyage round the Cape of Good Hope. Educated men here and there practised the learned professions in the American plantations, and among them a sprinkling of naturalists was found. Hothouses, the amusement of wealthy amateurs in Germany, France, and Holland, made it possible to protect the plants of mild climates from the winter cold of northern Europe. By the end of the seventeenth century our gardens had acquired many beautiful and curious American plants, besides a few from the East Indies, and not long afterwards the gains became so frequent that the botanists of Europe found it hard to name the new species as fast as they came in.

Lovers of horticulture will tolerate a little further information concerning the early use of hothouses. As soon as glass began to be employed in domestic architecture, the construction of warmed and glazed chambers, in which plants could be grown, was attempted. Writers of the first century A.D. mention them, and Seneca explains how the temperature might be kept up by hot water. This and other refinements of the Roman Empire passed into oblivion during the long decline of civilisation, but revived with the revival of the arts. In the sixteenth century William IV., Landgraf of Hesse, who is remembered, among other things, as a patron of the botanist Clusius, built himself a green-house, which could be taken down and put together again. A still more famous orangerie was that of Heidelberg, which served as an example to the kings and nobles of Europe.[39] Henri IV. built one at the Tuileries, and long afterwards Louis XIV. had one at Versailles. Madame de Sévigné describes the orangerie of Clagny as a palace of Armida, and the most enchanting novelty in the world. The pine-apple was brought over from Barbadoes in the seventeenth century, and Evelyn speaks of having tasted the first pine-apple grown in England at the table of Charles the Second. For two hundred years the hothouse yielded no greater dainty, but rapid transit has now made pine-apples so cheap that it is no longer worth while to raise them in England. Fagon, who was during many years first physician to Louis XIV., was a considerable botanist. He was born and died at the Jardin des Plantes, and here, on his retirement from practice, he built hothouses; it would be interesting to know what he grew in them.

In the first half of the seventeenth century the younger Tradescant, who, like his father before him, was gardener to our Charles I., brought over from America the spider-wort, named Tradescantia after him,[40] the false acacia and the tulip-tree. The magnolias, or some of them, the Virginian creeper, and the scarlet Lobelia cardinalis were among the gifts received from North America about the same time. The dwarf Lobelia (L. Erinus) was not brought over from the Cape of Good Hope till 1752, and Lobelia splendens and fulgens (both from Mexico) not till the nineteenth century. One of the passion-flowers, which are all American, came over about this time; but Passiflora cærulea, the favourite ornament of the greenhouse, was only imported from Brazil in 1699. The evening primrose, the "convolvulus major and minor" (Ipomæa purpurea and Convolvulus tricolor), were other acquisitions from North America.

From the second half of the seventeenth century dates the introduction of the garden nasturtium (Tropæolum majus) from Peru; T. minus from Mexico had been brought over nearly a hundred years earlier. The sensitive plants and the pine-apple now became frequent objects in English greenhouses. John Evelyn and Bishop Compton were eminent patrons of English horticulture during this age.

The first half of the eighteenth century brought us the Aubretia and the sweet pea from southern Europe, the first Pelargoniums (scarlet geraniums) from the Cape, the camellia and Kerria japonica from the far east. The West Indian heliotrope was introduced in 1713; the better-known Peruvian species not till 1757. Phloxes began to be imported from North America. Two or three foreign orchids were already known, and the number now began to increase; but it was not till the nineteenth century that they came over in crowds. Our list gives no notion whatever of the number of new species added now and subsequently.

Of the accessions made during the latter half of the eighteenth century we must at least mention the mignonette from North Africa, white arabis from the Caucasus, the common rhododendron from Asia Minor, Rosa indica and Hydrangea hortensis from China, South African gladioli, which now begin to be numerous, and chrysanthemums from China and Japan. The first calceolarias were brought from great heights on the Andes, the first begonias from Jamaica, and the first fuchsia from Chili.

We can make only one remark about the multitudinous accessions of the nineteenth century. It is surprising to note how recently many established favourites have been brought to the knowledge of English gardeners. Anemone japonica (Japan) and Jasminum nudiflorum (China) date from 1844, while the Freesias (Cape Colony) are as recent as 1875. The dahlia, after two unsuccessful attempts, was established here as recently as 1815; Nemophila insignis came over from North America in 1822; the common musk and the monkey-plant a few years later; the chionodoxas (Crete and Asia Minor) in 1877. The first of the foliage-begonias (Begonia rex from Assam) dates only from 1858, and the first of the tuberous species from 1865.

Importation of foreign species has not been the only method by which English gardens have been enriched. New varieties and hybrids have been produced in bewildering numbers by the gardeners of Europe, and many of these far surpass in beauty the wild originals. Botanists and nurserymen could relate in great detail the steps by which our favourite roses, calceolarias, begonias, and cinerarias have been developed from a few natural stocks, sometimes of uninviting appearance.

Horticulture has repaid the debt which it owed to the explorations of botanists by furnishing countless observations and experiments bearing upon inheritance. When these have been properly co-ordinated, they will yield precious knowledge, not only to botanists but to all students of biology.

Humboldt as a Traveller and a Biologist.

The career of Alexander von Humboldt (b. 1769, d. 1859), nearly coinciding with the period on which we are now engaged, was devoted to a gigantic task—nothing less than the scientific exploration of the globe. His great natural powers were first cultivated by wide and thorough training, not only in astronomy, botany, geology, mineralogy, and mining, which had an obvious bearing on his future enterprise, but also in anatomy, physiology, commerce, finance, diplomacy, and languages. Thus equipped, he sailed in 1799 with the botanist Bonpland to South America, and spent the next five years in exploring the Orinoco and Amazon, the Andes, Cuba, and Mexico. The expedition marks an epoch in scientific geography. It is enough to mention the collection of data for the more accurate mapping of little-known countries, the exploration of the river-systems of equatorial America and the discovery of a water-connection between the Orinoco and the Amazon, the ascent of lofty mountains, the study of volcanoes, the description of remarkable animals such as the howler-monkey and the gymnotus (electric eel), and of remarkable plants, such as the bull's-horn acacia, whose enlarged and hollow spines are occupied by ants.[41] After his return to Europe Humboldt published many important treatises on terrestrial magnetism, geology, meteorology, and plant-distribution. His new graphical method of isothermal lines did much for the study of climate in all its bearings. His _Personal Narrative_ not only disseminated much interesting information, but inspired a new generation of explorers. Darwin agreed with Hooker that Humboldt was the greatest of scientific travellers.

In 1829 Humboldt traversed the Russian Empire from west to east, but the time allowed (half a year) was altogether insufficient for the examination of so vast a territory; a few notable results were, nevertheless, secured.