PART I.
ON THE GROWTH AND COMPOSITION OF ANIMALS.
SECTION I.
ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE LIFE.
Functions of Plants.—It is the primary function of plants to convert the inorganic matter of the soil and air into organised structures of a highly complex nature. The food of plants is purely mineral, and consists chiefly of water, carbonic acid, and ammonia. Water is composed of the elements oxygen and hydrogen; carbonic acid is a compound of oxygen and carbon; and ammonia is formed of hydrogen and nitrogen. These four substances are termed the organic elements, because they form by far the larger portion—sometimes the whole—of organic bodies. The combustible portion of plants and animals is composed of the organic elements; the incombustible part is made up of potassium, sodium, and the various other elements enumerated in another page. The organic elements are furnished chiefly by the atmosphere, and the incombustible matters are supplied by the soil.
Water in the state of vapor forms, according to the temperature and other conditions of the atmosphere, from a half per cent. to four and a half per cent. of the weight of that fluid—about 1·25 per cent. being the average; carbonic acid exists in it to the extent of 1⁄2000th; and ammonia forms a minute portion of it—according to Dr. Angus Smith, one grain weight in 412·42 cubic feet of air (of a town), or 0·000453 per cent. It is remarkable that the most abundant constituents of atmospheric air—oxygen and nitrogen—are not assimilable by plants, although these elements enter largely into the composition of vegetable substances. In the soil, also, the part which ministers to the wants of vegetables is relatively quite insignificant in amount.
Plants are unendowed with organs of locomotion, their food must therefore be within easy reach. Every breeze wafts gaseous nutriment to their expanded leaves, and their rootlets ramify throughout the soil in search of appropriate mineral aliment. But no matter how abundant, or however easy of reach may be the food of plants, the vegetable organism is incapable of partaking of it unless under the influence of light. Exposed to this potent stimulus, the plant collects the gaseous carbonic acid and the vaporous water, solidifies them, decomposes them, and combines their elements into new and organised forms. In effecting these changes—in conferring vitality upon the atoms of lifeless matter—the plant acts merely as the mechanism, the light is the force. As the work performed by the steam-engine is proportionate to the amount of force developed by the combustion of the fuel beneath its boiler, so is the rapidity of the elaboration of organic substances by plants proportionate to the amount of sunlight to which they are exposed. It is an axiom that matter is indestructible; we may alter its form as often as we please, but we cannot destroy a particle of it. It is the same with force: we may convert one kind of it into another—heat into light, or magnetism into electricity—but our power ends there; we can only cause force, or motion, to pass from one of its conditions to another, but its quantity can never be diminished by the power of man.
The principle of the Conservation of the Forces gives us a clear explanation of the fact that animals can obtain their food only through the medium of the vegetable kingdom. Plants are stationary mechanisms; they have no need to develop motive power, as animals have, in moving themselves from place to place. Their temperature is, we may say, the same as that of the medium in which they exist. Such beings as plants do not, therefore, require the expenditure of force to maintain their vitality; on the contrary, their mechanisms are, for a beneficent purpose, constructed for the accumulation of force. The growing plant absorbs, together with carbonic acid, water, and ammonia, a proportionate amount of light, heat, and the various other subtile forces which have their abiding place in the sun-beam—