It would be an insult to the reader’s understanding, and a most idle

waste of his time, to attempt to confute such self-destroying dogmas as

those of “spontaneous” or of “equivocal” generation, which last is only

a clumsy _équivoque_ expressive of the same thing: we might just as well

talk of the pendulum of a clock generating the time and space in which it

librated, as of dead matter spontaneously quickening and actuating those

new movements of which some of its particles have become the seat; for

how, in the name of common sense, can that which we assume to be dead,

_i. e._ emphatically and totally without life, convey such purely vital

phenomena as those of intus-susception and growth, which by the very

supposition are no longer within itself? Life, on such an hypothesis as

this, ceases to be the opposite and antagonist principle to death, of

which it then becomes but a different mode and a new phasis. It is not

the incomprehensibility of such a notion (be it well understood) against

which the objection lies, for as life begins and ends in mystery, that

would be no objection; it lies in the rashness of attempting to solve an

admitted mystery, by placing a palpable absurdity in its room; vainly

and irreverently arrogating to itself the honours of a discovery which

we are to believe if we can! At this rate, addled eggs, abandoned by the

vital principle, might take to hatching themselves! A more legitimate

and very interesting subject for inquiry is, whether those funguses

which are parasitical (_i. e._ derive their support from the structures

whence they emanate) are so many separate constituents of a superior

life _under analysis_, or each of itself a new individual? In support

of the first view, it is urged that since reproduction in such lower

existences is nothing but a modification of nutrition, a new process

might well originate from its perversion, and thus give rise to new

products; and just as the change in the ordinary nutrition of our bodily

organs is prone to give birth to various local disorganizations or morbid

growths, such, it is argued, might be the origin of fungoid growth on

trees. But then comes the difficulty: such a view does not, and plainly

cannot, explain the development of the _not_ parasitical kinds, of which

the origin should be the same; no, nor even of all that live by suction

at the expense of other plants, since there are as many kinds which

quicken in _dead_ and decaying structures, as there are that issue out

of decrepit and _living_ ones; here, then, it is plain that perverted

nutrition can have nothing to do with their production, for in this

case nutrition has, by the supposition, ceased; and to talk of disease

_after_ death would be a strange figure of speech indeed! An elm or oak

is frequently dead five, seldom less than three, years before these

parasitical growths make their appearance, from which it would appear to

follow that seeds are not developed by, but that they must be extraneous

to, and independent of, any pathological relation of the plant from which

they grow. If then fungus life be not to be sought for, and cannot with

propriety be said to originate in any morbid conditions of the tissues

from which they spring, whence do they derive life—in other words, whence

in every instance comes that particular seed which, when quickened, is

to produce after its kind? Lies this dormant for a season in those dead

and decaying tissues, which a little later the plant originating from it

is destined to embellish; or is the living germ first brought to them

by the winds, and merely deposited on their surface, as in a fitting

_nidus_ on which their future development is to be effected? Some writers

take one view, some another. Many believe the seeds of funguses to come

directly from the earth,[103] and to be drawn up with the sap, which,

as it penetrates throughout the tissues of the plant, must carry the

seeds also along with it. That such is actually sometimes the case is

certain, since we can not only plant parasitical blights of a particular

kind so as to infect particular plants, but may also by digging a trench

between those that have already become diseased, and those that are still

healthy, stay the progress of the blight—thus clearly establishing not

only the fact of seeds, but also the highly interesting additional one,

of their ascent into the structures of plants by intus-susception; and

to arrive at a general view from these particular cases, this would seem

to be the usual mode of their propagation. Neither does it make against

this view nor is it more in favour of the other, which supposes the germs

to be derived primarily from the air, and to be thence precipitated on

the structures where they grow, that funguses are found on organizations

in decay, on withered boughs, and on seared leaves, out of which all sap

must of course have been long ago exsiccated; for what then? though the

sap does, the seeds do not, evaporate with it. These, once absorbed and

diffused during the lifetime of the plant throughout its whole economy,

remain there in a state of potential activity, ready to burst forth

and germinate whenever the necessary conditions for these wonderful

changes shall be presented to them, just as though the seeds of corn

now flourishing in different parts of England, had first existed for

some thousand years as mummy wheat, potentially and unquickened. Nothing

perishes in nature: “destructio unius matrix alterius;” life may change

titles, but never becomes extinct; so soon as the more perfect plant

dies, a host of other vegetable existences, hitherto enthralled by laws

of an organization superior to their own, now that the connection has

been dissevered, put forth their separate energies, and severally assert

their independence. The poplar may have perished, root, stem, and branch,

but its extinction is only the signal for other existences, which had

been heretofore bound up and hid within its own, to assert themselves;

and accordingly a Polyporus sprouts out here; here a Thelephora

embellishes the dead bark; and here an Agaric springs out of the decaying

fibres of its head: these in turn also decay, but as they _moulder_ away

they languish into a new kind of fungous life, of an inferior type to

the last, as if their own vitality were inferior in kind to that of the

decayed poplar, whence they lately issued.[104] Thus, since the seeds

of funguses actually exist in great quantity in other plants, and since

they occur in the closed interior of fruits and in corollas which are

still in their envelopes (in either case out of the reach of the external

air); since finally, the _Pietra funghaia_, which produces a Polyporus

unknown to England, may be, notwithstanding, made to germinate in England

by furnishing the stone with adequate supplies of water and of heat,

_that_ seems the more tenable hypothesis of the two, which, in every

case, supposes the _nidus_ of the fungus to furnish the seed, and the

atmosphere, the conditions necessary for its quickening. How the seed is

first made to quicken is another and most interesting question, still

evolved in mystery. As there is no ocular evidence to be obtained of the

usual organs of sex, some mycologists have separated funguses from the

family of the clandestinely married _Cryptogamia_, to place them with the

_Agamia_, which repudiate the marriage tie;[105] but as every argument

from ignorance is unsafe, (and such would appear to be particularly the

case here, when we consider how many things undoubtedly exist, which the

imperfection of lenses and the circumscribed power of the eye prevent

our seeing,) we should rather make use of what is displayed to us in the

economy of other plants, in the way of analogy as applied to these, than

deny what is likely, merely because it is not an object of sense. It

would appear then, from what has been stated, that certain funguses are

produced like other plants, from seeds; and more likely at least, in the

parasitic kinds, that such seeds are derived by the plant which supports

them from the ground, than deposited from the atmosphere. Before we

proceed to the description of species, a few more words remain to be said

about these spores, and a brief notice to be taken of those parts that

are essential to all, and more especially of such as are characteristic

of those higher forms of funguses which are the more immediate subject of

the present work.

SPORES OR SEEDS.

All funguses have not seeds,—at least, seeds apparent to us;[106] but if

we reflect that these, even where visible, can do no more than present to

our senses the visible tabernacle of that life which is still invisible,

and which, not being material, must ever elude our search,[107] then it

will not appear so difficult to conceive that the apparently seedless

threads of some particular moulds should include, in their interior,

vital germs of some sort, which, being homogeneous with, or of the same

colour as, the parenchyma of the mould itself, are invisible—just as we

know them to be for a season in puff-balls, in the veins of truffles,

or in the _Agyrium_, the receptacle of which last breaks up, when ripe,

into sporidia, which then and not till then become manifest. The seeds

of funguses are called spores: in the great majority of cases, the

microscope, which brings their shapes under observation (for to the naked

eye they appear as dust), presents them to us as round, oval, oblong,

or even angular corpuscules, and, more rarely still, echinulate or with

a tail. They are as various in size as in shape, the first bearing no

proportion whatever to the dimensions of the future plant. They vary,

too, greatly in colour, being sometimes of a pure white, and continuing

so throughout the whole of their seminal existence; at other times, the

white acquires a yellow tinge on drying. Some are brown, some yellow,

some pink, some purple, some purple-black, and some pass successively

from pink to purple, and from purple to purple-black.[108] These seeds or

spores are sometimes naked, but are much more commonly shut up in little

pouches or receptacles, either of a regular or of an irregular shape;

the first are called _thecæ_, the latter _sporanges_; thecæ (which are

in shape similar to the cases of the same name that used to receive the

ancient εἱλίγματα, or scrolls) are small, cylindrical bodies, in which

the seeds lie _one over the other, as in a rouleau_; they are themselves

let into a _receptacle_ (or that part of the fungus the office of which

is to receive and support the reproductive organs) in a regular and

symmetrical manner, and at length occupy it completely. Not all are

prolific; for some, pressing upon others, cause them to abort, leaving

wherever this happens, sterile thecæ, or _paraphyses_, between those that

are fertile. _Sporanges_ are little globose or turbinated receptacles,

frequently furnished with a pedicle, in which the seeds lie without

order, as they are themselves inserted symmetrically, or without order,

into the receptacle. Sometimes these seeds are packed in series of fours,

as in the fimetary Agarics; in other genera, as in the Helvellæ and

Morels, they are stored away in series of eights. The spores, so soon as

they are ripe, either drop out of the sporiferous membrane (_hymenium_),

or, as more frequently happens, are projected from it with an elastic

jerk, or else, as is the case of Agarics of a deliquescent kind, return

to the earth mixed up with the black liquid into which these ultimately

resolve themselves. Sometimes the _whole_ external surface of the fungus

is dusted with seed; but much more frequently they are restricted to some

particular part, and either lie on the upper side, as in the _Pezizæ_,

or on that which is beneath, as in the mushroom. The spores generally

lie on the outside of the fungus, but in the puff-ball, as every one

knows, they are internal, and in such prodigious quantity as sometimes

entirely to fill its cavity. It is a speculation from Germany, that

spores are capable of altering their forms, and that according to the

accidents of climate or soil, they assume this or that type, and give

rise at different times to different kinds of funguses; on which it is

sufficient to remark, that while there is not the least foundation for

such an hypothesis, there is in fact much evidence against it; nature

acts by immutable laws and has no changelings. To appeal to experience,

when did mushrooms ever spawn toadstools? When was the _Pietra funghaia_

ever seen to bring forth anything but its own Polyporus? or the fig, the

poplar, or the hazel (when singed and watered to render them prolific)

exhibit any but their own particular mushroom? Spores are endowed, like

other seeds, with an extraordinary vitality, which may lie dormant in

them for an indefinite period; but unlike most other seeds, they seem

capable of resisting the prolonged heat of boiling water, infused in

which, and poured upon the ground, they are still capable of producing

each after its kind. The specific gravity of spores is greater than

that of water, as may be seen by placing a mushroom over a glass which

contains it, when, falling upon the surface, they presently subside to

the bottom. These spores sometimes merely multiply without any further

progress in development; sometimes they proceed a certain way only, and

then, the conditions necessary for their further advance failing, this is

arrested; sometimes, as in the _Sistotrema_, the plant _appears twice_

under a _perfect_ form, being for part of its existence a _Hydnum_,

and during the other half a _Boletus_; but, generally speaking, these

minute corpuscular bodies are destined to receive an infinite variety

of protean and imperfect forms, and to pass stage by stage, and step

by step, to the full attainment of that ultimate one which they assume

when their growth has reached its natural limits. Sometimes the spore

expands outright into a puff-ball; sometimes it shoots up straight into

a club, as in some of the Clavarias; or lies like a bowl, resupinate on

the ground and stalkless, as in the _Peziza_; in other cases, it assumes

the more perfect but much less simple forms of _Chanterelle_, _Boletus_,

_Dædalea_, _Morel_, or _Mushroom_.

DEVELOPMENT OF SEEDS.

The mode in which the organs immediately containing the seeds are formed,

differs according to the family. In the tribe of puff-balls, where the

seed is formed in the interior of the fungus, there is no hymenium; a few

of the internal cells (when the Lycoperdon has attained its full size)

begin to enlarge, and these in a short time are found to contain small

granules, generally of a determinate number, and moistened by a fluid

secreted from within the walls. In such funguses as have an hymenium

it is only some of the superficial cells, and these in a particular

position in reference to the receptacle, that contain seeds; though

perfect identity of structure throughout, is evinced in a conclusive

manner if we invert the head of a young fungus on its stalk; for then

these thecæ begin to form and to fill themselves with seed, not on the

side where they were about to do so previous to this inversion of the

head, but on that which was the uppermost and sterile surface, and which,

now that it is the undermost, has become prolific. The expansion of a

fungus, according to Vittadini, is effected as follows:—“These thecæ,”

of which we have been speaking, “as they swell, become distended with

the contained seed, and mostly so at their free extremity, since they

have more room for expansion in that direction than at the other, which

is impacted into the substance of the pileus; in consequence of this, a

series of wedges are formed which, as the seed continues to distend them,

force out the pileus, loosen its marginal connections with the stalk,

uncurl its involuted borders, and finally open up its cells, pores, and

sinuses.”[109]

In those subterranean funguses which mature their seeds below the surface

of the ground, the lower portion, so soon as this is accomplished in the

upper, suddenly takes to grow upwards, carrying along with it the bag,

which, on reaching the surface of the ground, bursts its envelopes and

scatters its prolific dust to the winds. All funguses, as has already

been observed, have in all probability spores, though in a few instances,

of byssoid growths, (Hyphas, Himantias, and Æthelias,) these are not

apparent; in most cases too, they are attached to an hymenium, into

which, or on the surface of which, they are placed till ripe. One very

large tribe, by far the largest, are called _Hymenomycetes_, from ὑμήν,

a membrane, and μύκος, a fungus; _i. e._ funguses with a seed membrane:

to distinguish them from those other kinds, very small numerically in

proportion to themselves, _Gasteromycetes_, in which the seeds, arranged

and stored away in particular receptacles, named sporanges or thecæ, are

with them included in the belly (γαστήρ) of the fungus, as is the case in

truffles and puff-balls. The hymenium, like that curiously doubled-down

sheet of paper which conjurors turn into so many shapes, assumes a great

variety of forms; running down the gills of the mushrooms and the plaits

of the _Cantharellus_, up into the tubes of the Boletuses; sheathing

the vegetable teeth of _Hydna_, forming an intricate labyrinth of

anastomosing plates in _Dædalea_; now rising into little rough eminences

on the surface of the _Thelephoræ_, and now affording a smooth investment

to that of the _Clavariæ_. It is covered with a veil, which disappears

so soon as the spores begin to ripen, and its protection is no longer

required; seen under the microscope, it appears to be wholly made up of

thecæ.

SUCCESSIVE DEVELOPMENT OF THE SPORES.

When the spore is to cease to be a spore, and to become a mushroom, the

first thing it does is to send forth certain cotton-like filaments,

whose interfacings entangle it completely while they also serve to

attach it to the place of its birth; these threads (like the spongioles

attached to the roots of phænogamous plants, whose name sufficiently

explains their office) absorb and bring nourishment to the quickened

spore, which then maintains itself entirely by intus-susception. All

this takes place before the germ has burst, or the embryo fungus begun

to develope its organs. In some instances, these elementary threads are,

like the ordinary roots of plants, spread out to a considerable distance

underground, forming here and there in their course small bulbs or

tubercles, each of which, in turn, becomes a new individual; in others,

and more commonly, these spores are sprinkled about unconnectedly, as

in the _Pietra funghaia_, affecting certain spots only, which become so

many small matrices whereof each furnishes a crop. The union of many

germinating granules together with their connecting threads, constitutes

mushroom spawn, or, as it is technically called, _carcytes_.[110]

Examined a short time after quickening, the spore is found to have

swelled out into a fleshy kernel; which in puff-balls, truffles, and the

uterine subterranean families generally, constitutes of itself the whole

fungus; this only grows in size afterwards, the substance and original

form remaining the same through the entire period of development. In

those destined to live under the influence of air and light, this same

rudimental nucleus gradually evolves _new parts_, and assumes, as we

have seen, a vast variety of forms, (whereof each particular one is

predetermined by the original bias imprinted upon every spore at its

creation,) and here there is a manifest analogy with the progressive

development of new parts in the higher plants. In such funguses as are

wrapped up in a volva or bag, during the earliest period of growth,

this furnishes them not only with the means of protection, but of

nourishment also. This volva, which is formed by the mere swelling

out of the original fleshy bulb, when it has grown to a certain size,

exhibits towards its centre the rudiments of the young fungus; of which

the receptacle appears first, and all the other parts in succession. The

embryo, next taking to grow, in its turn approaches the circumference of

the volva, which, having by this time ceased to expand, is burst open,

and sometimes with much violence, by the emerging Amanite. As soon as

the hymenium has parted with its seed, which falls from it in the form

of fine dust, the fungus, collapsing, either withers on its stem, or

else dissolves into a black liquid and so escapes to the earth. In such

funguses as have not a volva, the basilar or primary nucleus shoots up

at once in the form of a cone, and a little later presents at its apex

the rudiments of a receptacle or head; by degrees, and frequently by slow

degrees,[111] the perfected structures of the plant are elaborated and

spread themselves out into some of the forms mentioned above, of which

the clavate is the most simple, and that with gills the most complex.

The primary nucleus is formed out of simple cellular membrane, the

cells of which, at first elongating, and at length uniting into little

bundles, assume a fibrous appearance; sometimes these fascicular bodies

effuse themselves unchanged into the substance of the receptacle, in

which they spread out and are lost; at others, a transverse line makes

the demarcation between the pileus and stem.[112] The last part formed

in a fungus, generally, is that which bears the seed; and whenever an

exception to this occurs, and the seed is formed at an earlier period

than usual, nature has in this case provided three membranes, to cover

and protect these delicate organs till the plant shall have attained

maturity: these are the ring (_annulus_), the veil (_velum_), and the

wrapper (_volva_).

OF THE ANNULUS, THE VELUM, AND THE VOLVA.

Of these involucra the first two are partial, the other universal. The

Volva is a thick membranaceous covering, originating at the base of the

fungus, which it thus connects with the earth, and furnishes, during

its fœtal life, with the means of support and nourishment. When this

has ceased, and the plant has quitted its wrapper, if this still adhere

to the base of the stalk, it is styled manifest (_manifesta_), but if

there be no traces of it left, obliterated (_obliterata_). It is _free_

when it can be easily detached, and _congenital_ when it cannot without

laceration. In funguses with bulbous roots it is congenital, in those

without bulbs it is free. All funguses that have a volva are of course

_volvati_, but as this organ exists in many only so long as they are

underground, mycologists are agreed to restrict the term to such alone as

retain it afterwards.

_The Ring._—This, which differs considerably in form, substance, and in

its attachments, is composed either of a continuous sheet of membrane

or else of a number of delicately-spun threads, resembling a spider’s

web,[113] which in either case passing from the margin of the pileus

to the corresponding upper portion of the stem, give way as the plant

expands, and either festoon for a season the margin of the cap, or

encircle the stalk with a ring. The marginal remains of the Annulus are

extremely fugacious, but the ring round the stalk, though generally

transitory, is sometimes persistent; it is _superior_ or _descending_

when originating from the summit of the stem, it descends outwards and

downwards to form connections with the rim of the pileus; _inferior_ or

_ascending_ when, coming off from that portion of the stalk which is

below the pileus, it ascends to attach itself to this. In a few cases the

ring is partly membranaceous and partly composed of radiating arachnoid

threads.

_The Veil._—Some funguses not only present the ring just mentioned, their

hymenium or seed membrane being further protected from harm by a second

investment, the veil, _Velum_, the stalk origin of which, when existing

in conjunction with an annulus, is below it, but when the fungus is not

annulate, the velum rises higher up on the stalk, stretches across to

meet and is afterwards reflected over the whole surface of the pileus; on

the expansion of the Agaric this investment is entirely broken up, and

exhibits those well-known flocks, which have been called by the learned

_verrucæ_, but which, as they are generally of a dirty leprous hue, and

affect more or less of a circular arrangement, have procured for this

whole tribe of Amanites in Italy the uncomely epithet of _tignosi_,

or scald-heads. Where there has been both a volva and a velum, as

sometimes happens in the same fungus, these verrucæ are of different

colours according as they are remnants of the first merely, or of both

together.[114] The velum in the subgenus _Limacium_ is a slimy coating

adhering to the head of the fungus, which then looks as if it had been

dipped in gum mucilage; this generally disappears after a time, leaving

the epidermis dry, though sometimes, like the solid membranaceous veil,

it is more or less persistent. The waxy covering on the pileus of the

_Ag. virescens_, which after a time cracks and tessellates its surface,

is only an exudation limited to the upper portion of the cap, and not a

veil.

_The Stalk._—This, which is absent in many parasitical funguses of the

Order _Pileati_, when present, either effuses itself uninterruptedly

into the substance of the pileus, which it then, in fact, _forms_, or

else supports merely as on a pillar, a distinct line of demarcation

showing where the fibres terminate. It assumes a great variety of forms,

which serve in many instances to characterize species; besides which

peculiarities there are others to be noted, as the mode of its insertion

into the pileus, its having or not having a ring, the circumstance of its

being scabrous, glossy, or tomentose, reticulated, spotted, or striped,

of one colour above and another below, or of its changing colour when

bruised, any of which may sometimes assist our diagnosis.

_The Pileus._—By far the larger number of funguses mentioned in this

work have a pileus, or cap; all such belong to the first great tribe

_Pileati_; they include the genera _Agaricus_, _Boletus_, _Cantharellus_,

_Morchella_, _Hydnum_, _Fistulina_, and _Polyporus_, each of which

furnishes its quota of alimentary species, together with many others not

esculent. The form of the pileus, like that of the stalk, is various in

these different genera, besides being variable in the different species

of the same genus; generally it assumes an orbicular or umbrella shape,

especially in such funguses as grow solitary on the ground, whilst in

others, parasitical on trees, (particularly when they have no stalk,) it

is more or less of a half-hemisphere.

A treatise on the esculent funguses of England containing an account of their classical history, uses, characters, development, structure, nutritious properties, modes of cooking and preserving, etc. · 第 4 / 12 段