The stem goes on growing, thorns appear on it again, the coloured petals which now appear singly become smaller and at last transform into variegated stem-leaves, half red and half green; a series of regular nodes is formed and from their eyes small, though imperfect, rosebuds appear once more.
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This example in particular affords visible proof of our theory, namely, that all calyces are simply leaves, folia floralia, contracted and growing together at the periphery. For in this specimen the calyx, gathered round the axis, consists of five perfectly developed, compound leaves of three or five leaflets, such as are normally produced by rose branches at their nodes.
CHAPTER XVI
A PROLIFEROUS CARNATION
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Strange as this phenomenon will appear to us when we contemplate it, yet another—a proliferous carnation—is still more remarkable. We see a perfect flower with a calyx and a double corolla; in the centre is a seed-capsule, not, however, quite fully developed. From the sides of the corolla four new and perfect flowers are developed, separated from the parent-flower by stalks three or four nodes or more in length. These new flowers, too, have calyces and double corollas, formed not so much of single petals as of little crowns of petals united at their base, or more often of petals which have developed like little twigs and grown together round a stem. Notwithstanding this monstrous development, filaments and anthers are present in some of these flowers. Fruit capsules are there with their styles, the capsules appearing again in leaf-form. Indeed, in one flower the seed-vessels were united into a perfect calyx and contained the rudiments of another complete, double flower.
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While the rose was like a half completed flower, from the centre of which the stem again shot upward, bearing stem-leaves as before, the carnation, with a well formed calyx and perfect corolla and a capsule situated properly in the centre, had developed eyes from among the surrounding petals, producing actual twigs and flowers. We see, then, from these two instances, that Nature normally terminates the period of growth in the blossom—adds it up, so to speak, to a sum-total, so that by thus checking the possibility of gradual and infinite growth, she may achieve her aim the more quickly through the forming of seeds.
CHAPTER XVII
LINNAEUS’S THEORY OF ANTICIPATION
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If here and there I may have stumbled on a path which one of my predecessors, though attempting it under the guidance of his great teacher, describes as so fearful and dangerous; or if I have not quite succeeded in levelling it and clearing it of every obstacle for those who come after me, yet I still hope that this will not have been a fruitless undertaking.
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At this point it will be right to consider the theory by which Linnaeus sought to explain these phenomena. The things of which this essay treats could not have escaped his keen eye, and if we may now proceed from where he left off, we are indebted to the endeavours of so many observers and thinkers who have dispelled prejudices and cleared away many hindrances from our path. An exact comparison of his theory with one we have just propounded would take too long. Those acquainted with this subject will easily do this for themselves, and such a comparison would be too complicated to be easily intelligible to those who have never thought about these things. We will only point out briefly what hindered Linnaeus from making further progress and reaching the goal.
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In the first place he made his observation on trees—complicated and long-lived plants. He saw that a tree planted in a fairly large pot and given too much nourishment produced branch after branch for several years, while the same tree, when restricted to a smaller pot, quickly produced flowers and fruit. He saw that the development which before was gradual, then took place all at once. He called this process of Nature “Prolepsis,”—an anticipation—because the plant in the six steps we have been observing, seemed to anticipate six years. He worked his theory out dealing chiefly with the buds of trees without paying particular attention to annual plants, perceiving no doubt that his theory did not fit them so well. For according to his teaching we would have to assume that each annual plant is really intended by Nature to grow for six years, but that in the flower and fruit it suddenly anticipates this space of time, and then fades.
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We, on the contrary, first studied the growth of annual plants, and now it is easy to apply our deductions to plants of longer duration. For a bursting bud on the oldest tree may be thought of as an annual plant, even though produced from an old stem and capable itself of longer duration.
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The second cause which held Linnaeus back was that he regarded the circles enclosed one within the other in the stem of the plant—the outer and inner bark, the wood, the pith—too much as being equally active, alive and essential, and to these different circles of the stem attributed the origin of the flower and fruit, because they too seem to encircle and develop from one another. This was, however, only a superficial idea which on closer examination can never be confirmed. The bark is, in fact, unfit for further reproduction and in long-lived trees becomes an obdurate mass on the outside and is separated from the wood within, which has also become quite hard. The bark of many trees falls away and in others it can be taken off without in the least damaging the tree, thus it could not possibly produce either a calyx or any other living part. It is the layer immediately within the bark which has all the power of life and growth, and to the extent that this is injured, the growth of the whole will be disturbed. We shall see too, on closer investigation, that this is the layer which produces all the external parts of the plant—one after the other in the stem, and simultaneously in the flower and fruit. Linnaeus only ascribed to it the subordinate work of producing the petals. To the wood on the other hand, he attributed the all important production of the stamens, although one can clearly see that it is a part which has solidified into a passive condition, durable perhaps, but dead to any stirring of life. And finally the pith was supposed to perform the most important task of all—the production of the feminine organs and subsequently a numerous posterity. The doubts which have been raised as to the great importance of the pith and the reasons for refuting this opinion seem to me weighty and conclusive. It only seemed as though pistil and fruit were developed out of the pith, because these forms, when first we see them, are in a soft undefined state resembling pith or parenchyma, and also because they are pressed together in the centre of the stem where we are accustomed to see the pith.
CHAPTER XVIII
SUMMARY
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I hope that the present attempt to explain the metamorphosis of plants may contribute something to the solution of these problems and provide occasion for additional comments and opinions. The observations on which my essay is based have already appeared singly and they have also been collected and classified. It will soon be decided whether the step we have just taken is an approach toward the truth.
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