Haekel says of the Monera:  “The Monera are the simplest permanent cytods.  Their entire body consists of merely soft, structureless plasm.  However thoroughly we may examine them with the help of the most delicate reagents and the strongest optical instruments, we yet find that all the parts are completely homogeneous.  These Monera are therefore, in the strictest sense of the word, ’organisms without organs,’ or even in a strict philosophical sense they might not even be called organisms, since they possess no organs and since they are not composed of various particles.  They can only be called organisms in so far as they are capable of exercising the organic phenomena of life, of nutrition, reproduction, sensation and movement.”

Verworn records an interesting instance of life and mind among the Rhizopods, a very low form of living thing.  He relates that the Difflugia ampula, a creature occupying a tiny shell formed of minute particles of sand, has a long projection of its substance, like a feeler or tendril, with which it searches on the bottom of the sea for sandy material with which to build the shell or outer covering for its offspring, which are born by division from the parent body.  It grasps the particle of sand by the feeler, and passes it into its body by enclosing it.  Verworn removed the sand from the bottom of the tank, replacing it by very minute particles of highly colored glass.  Shortly afterward he noticed a collection of these particles of glass in the body of the creature, and a little later he saw a tiny speck of protoplasm emitted from the parent by separation.  At the same time he noticed that the bits of glass collected by the mother creature were passed out and placed around the body of the new creature, and cemented together by a substance secreted by the body of the parent, thus forming a shell and covering for the offspring.  This proceeding showed the presence of a mental something sufficient to cause the creature to prepare a shell for the offspring previous to its birth—­or rather to gather the material for such shell, to be afterward used; to distinguish the proper material; to mould it into shape, and cement it.  The scientist reported that a creature always gathered just exactly enough sand for its purpose—­never too little, and never an excess.  And this in a creature that is little more than a tiny drop of glue!

We may consider the life actions of the Moneron a little further, for it is the lowest form of so-called “living matter”—­the point at which living forms pass off into non-living forms (so-called).  This tiny speck of glue—­an organism without organs—­is endowed with the faculty called sensation.  It draws away from that which is likely to injure it, and toward that which it desires—­all in response to an elementary sensation.  It has the instinct of self-preservation and self-protection.  It seeks and finds its prey, and then eats, digests and assimilates it.  It is able to move about by “false-feet,” or bits of its body which it pushes forth at will from any part of its substance.  It reproduces itself, as we have seen, by separation and self-division.