ll
spring up over their graves. Similar traditions cluster round numerous
other plants, which, apart from being a revival of a very early
primitive belief, form one of the prettiest chapters of our legendary
tales. Although found under a variety of forms, and in some cases sadly
corrupted from the dress they originally wore, yet in their main
features they have not lost their individuality, but still retain their
distinctive character.

In connection with the myths of plant life may be noticed that curious
species of exotic plants, commonly known as "sensitive plants," and
which have generally attracted considerable interest from their
irritability when touched. Shelley has immortalised this curious freak
of plant life in his charming poem, wherein he relates how,

"The sensitive plant was the earliest,
Up-gathered into the bosom of rest;
A sweet child weary of its delight,
The feeblest and yet the favourite,
Cradled within the embrace of night."

Who can wonder, on gazing at one of these wonderful plants, that
primitive and uncultured tribes should have regarded such mysterious and
inexplicable movements as indications of a distinct personal life.
Hence, as Darwin in his "Movements of Plants" remarks: "why a touch,
slight pressure, or any other irritant, such as electricity, heat, or
the absorption of animal matter, should modify the turgescence of the
affected cells in such a manner as to cause movement, we do not know.
But a touch acts in this manner so often, and on such widely distinct
plants, that the tendency seems to be a very general one; and, if
beneficial, it might be increased to any extent." If, therefore, one of
the most eminent of recent scientific botanists confessed his inability
to explain this strange peculiarity, we may excuse the savage if he
regard it as another proof of a distinct personality in plant life.
Thus, some years ago, a correspondent of the _Botanical Register_,
describing the toad orchis (_Megaclinium bufo_), amusingly spoke as
follows of its eccentric movements: "Let the reader imagine a green
snake to be pressed flat like a dried flower, and then to have a road of
toads, or some such speckled reptiles, drawn up along the middle in
single file, their backs set up, their forelegs sprawling right and
left, and their mouths wide open, with a large purple tongue wagging
about convulsively, and a pretty considerable approach will be gained to
an idea of this plant, which, if