New conditions bring forth new acts in animals. No one can deny this statement, as instances of its truth are too frequent to believe otherwise. That such may be predicated of plants, which have not the ability, as a rule, to meet with new conditions by reason of their being affixed to the soil, very few persons are willing to admit; but there is no getting away from the fact. The tip of the radicle of a plant not only has the power, acting as a brain, as it would seem, of guiding the root out of the reach of an obstacle that would be injurious, or in the direction of water when it would be an advantage, but a tendril has also the ability, in obedience to some inherent force, of making its way to a support that has been purposely placed in the near distance for its especial benefit. No external agencies, which the materialistic naturalist has devised for accounting for the movements of plants and low types of animal existences that are devoid of a visible nervous system, can possibly explain these movements, which are only explicable on the theory that nervous energy may be elaborated and be distributed without such a system by and through the general mass of the plant or animal, or by and through such parts as may be necessary to its good. No one who has experimented with the Droseras or Sundews, can have failed to observe the extreme sensitiveness which resides in their leaves. That these plants manifest a comparatively high order of consciousness, there can be no question. Try them with insects, or rare bits of meat, as articles of diet, and in a few hours, if vigorous leaves have been experimented with, the leaves will have folded around the food and commenced their curious process of assimilation. Mineral substances, such as bits of chalk, magnesia and small pebbles, have no such effect. They seem to ignore these things, just as an intelligent animal would if they were placed by its side. Some experiments made by Mrs. Treat, several summers ago, go far to confirm the statement that plants are endowed with some sort of consciousness. _Drosera filiformis_ was the species used in her experiments. Some living flies were pinned one-half an inch from the leaves, but near their apical extremities. In forty minutes the leaves had perceptibly bent toward the flies, and in little more than an hour had reached the prey, the legs of the latter being entangled and held fast by the tentacles of the leaves. Next, the flies were removed three-quarters of an inch further from the leaves, but the latter, even though bent away from the direction of the light, failed to reach them at this distance. What was it that induced the leaves to stretch in the direction of the flies? Had the sun been shining from that side, it might be said that the movement of the leaves was influenced by its light and heat, for plants as a general rule turn toward that part of the heavens where these energies are the most effective. It cannot be that they were