With many dicotyledonous seedlings, as has lately been described by De Vries, the contraction of the parenchyma of the upper part of the radicle drags the hypocotyl downwards into the earth; sometimes (it is said) until even the cotyledons are buried. The hypocotyl itself of some species contracts in a like manner. It is believed that this burying process serves to protect the seedlings against the frosts of winter.
Our imaginary seedling is now mature as a seedling, for its hypocotyl is straight and its cotyledons are fully expanded. In this state the upper part of the hypocotyl and the cotyledons continue for some time to circumnutate, generally to a wide extent relatively to the size of the parts, and at a rapid rate. But seedlings profit by this power of movement only when it is modified, especially by the action of light and [page 558] gravitation; for they are thus enabled to move more rapidly and to a greater extent than can most mature plants. Seedlings are subjected to a severe struggle for life, and it appears to be highly important to them that they should adapt themselves as quickly and as perfectly as possible to their conditions. Hence also it is that they are so extremely sensitive to light and gravitation. The cotyledons of some few species are sensitive to a touch; but it is probable that this is only an indirect result of the foregoing kinds of sensitiveness, for there is no reason to believe that they profit by moving when touched.
Our seedling now throws up a stem bearing leaves, and often branches, all of which whilst young are continually circumnutating. If we look, for instance, at a great acacia tree, we may feel assured that every one of the innumerable growing shoots is constantly describing small ellipses; as is each petiole, sub-petiole, and leaflet. The latter, as well as ordinary leaves, generally move up and down in nearly the same vertical plane, so that they describe very narrow ellipses. The flower-peduncles are likewise continually circumnutating. If we could look beneath the ground, and our eyes had the power of a microscope, we should see the tip of each rootlet endeavouring to sweep small ellipses or circles, as far as the pressure of the surrounding earth permitted. All this astonishing amount of movement has been going on year after year since the time when, as a seedling, the tree first emerged from the ground.