CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER III.

Structure of plants—Mode in which their nourishment is obtained—Growth and substance of plants— Production of their substance from the food they imbibe—Mutual transformations of starch, sugar, and woody fibre.

Structure of plants—Mode in which their nourishment is obtained—Growth and substance of plants— Production of their substance from the food they imbibe—Mutual transformations of starch, sugar, and woody fibre.

From the compound substances, described in the preceding chapter, plants derive the greater portion of the carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen, of which their organic part consists. The living plant possesses the power of absorbing these compound bodies, ofdecomposingthem in the interior of its several vessels, and ofrecompoundingtheir elements in a different way, so as to produce new substances,—the ordinary products of vegetable life. Let us briefly consider the general structure of plants, and their mode of growth.

A perfect plant consists of three several parts,—a root which throws out arms and fibres in every direction into the soil,—a trunk which branches into the air on every side,—and leaves which, from the ends of the branches and twigs, spread out a more or less extended surface into the surrounding air. Each of these parts has a peculiar structure and a special function assigned to it.

Thestemof any of our common trees consists of three parts,—the pith in the centre, the wood surrounding the pith, and the bark which covers the whole. The pith consists of bundles of minute hollow tubes, laid horizontally one over the other; the wood and inner bark, of long tubes bound together in a vertical position, so as to be capable of carrying liquids up and down between the roots and the leaves. When a piece of wood is sawn across, the ends of these tubes may be distinctly seen. The branch is only a prolongation of the stem, and has a similar structure.

Theroot, immediately on leaving the trunk or stem, has also a similar structure; but as the root tapers away, the pith graduallydisappears, the bark also thins out, the wood softens, till the white tendrils, of which its extremities are composed, consist only of a colourless spongy mass, full of pores, but in which no distinction of parts can be perceived. In this spongy mass the vessels or tubes which descend through the stem and root lose themselves, and by them these spongy extremities are connected with the leaves.

Theleafis an expansion of the twig. The fibres which are seen to branch out from the base over the inner surface of the leaf are prolongations of the vessels of the wood. The green exterior portion of the leaf is, in like manner, a continuation of the bark in a very thin and porous form. The green of the leaf, though full of pores, especially on the under part, yet also consists of, or contains, a collection of tubes or vessels, which stretch along its surface, and communicate with those of the bark.

Most of these vessels in the living plant are full of sap, and this sap is in almost continual motion. In spring and autumn the motion is more rapid, and in winter it is sometimes scarcely perceptible; yet the sap is supposed to be rarely quite stationary in every part of the tree.

From the spongy part of the root the sap ascends through the vessels ofthewood, till it is diffused over the inner surface of the leaf by the fibres which the wood contains. Hence, by the vessels in the green of the leaf, it is returned to the bark, and through the vessels of the inner bark it descends to the root.

Every one understands why the roots send out fibres in every direction through the soil,—it is in search of water and ofliquidfood, which the spongy fibres suck in and send forward with the sap to the upper parts of the tree. It is to aid these roots in procuring food that, in the art of culture, such substances are mixed with the soil where these roots are, as are supposed to be necessary, or at least favourable, to the growth of the plant.

It is not so obvious that the leaves spread out their broad surfaces into the air for the same purpose precisely as that for which the roots diffuse their fibres through the soil. The only difference is, that while the roots suck in chieflyliquid, the leaves inhale almost solelygaseousfood.In the sunshine, the leaves are continually absorbing carbonic acid from the air and giving off oxygen gas.That is to say, they are continually appropriating carbon from the air.[4]When night comes, this process ceases, and they begin toabsorb oxygen and to give off carbonic acid.But this latter process does not go on so rapidly as the former, so that, on the whole, plants when growing gain a large portion of carbon from the air. The actual quantity, however, varies with the season, with the climate, and with the kind of tree. The proportion of the whole carbon contained by a plant, which has been derived from the air, is greatly modified also by the quality of the soil in which it grows, and by the comparative abundance of liquid food which happens to be within reach of its roots. It has been ascertained, however, that in our climate, on an average, not less than from one-third to three-fourths of the entire quantity of carbon contained in the crops we reap from land of average fertility, is really obtained from the air.

We see then why, in arctic climates, where the sun once risen never sets again during the entire summer, vegetation should almost rush up from the frozen soil—the green leaf is ever gaining from the air and never losing, ever taking in and never giving off carbonic acid, since no darkness ever interrupts or suspends its labours.

How beautiful, too, does the contrivance of the expanded leaf appear! The air contains only one gallon of carbonic acid in 2500, and thisproportion has been adjusted to the health and comfort of animals to whom this gas is hurtful. But to catch this minute quantity, the tree hangs out thousands of square feet of leaf in perpetual motion, through an ever-moving air; and thus, by the conjoined labours of millions of pores, the substance of whole forests of solid wood is slowly extracted from the fleeting winds. The green stem of the young shoot, and the green stalks of the grasses, also absorb carbonic acid as the green of the leaf does, and thus a larger supply is afforded when the growth is most rapid, or when the short life of the annual plant demands much nourishment within a limited time.

In this way the perfect plant derives its food from the soil and from the air; but perfect plants arise from seeds; and the study of the entire life—the career, so to speak—of a plant, presents many interesting and instructive subjects of consideration.

When a portion of flour is made into dough, and this dough is kneaded with the hand under a stream of water upon a fine sieve, as long as the water passes through milky, there will remain on the sieve a glutinoussticky substance resembling birdlime, while the milky water will gradually deposit a pure white powder. This powder isstarch, that which remains on the sieve isgluten. Both of these substances exist, therefore, in the flour; they both also exist in the grain. The starch consists of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen only; the gluten, in addition to these, contains also nitrogen.

When ground into flour, these substances serve for food to man; in the unbruised grain they are intended to feed the future plant in its earliest infancy.

When a seed is committed to the earth, if the warmth and moisture are favourable, it begins to sprout. It pushes a shoot upwards, it thrusts a root downwards, but, until the leaf expand, and the root has fairly entered the soil, the young plant derives no nourishment other than water, either from the earth or from the air. It lives on the starch and gluten contained in the seed. But these substances, though capable of being separated from each other by means of water, as above stated, yet are neither of them soluble in water. Hence, they cannot, without undergoing a previous change, be taken up by the sap, and conveyed along the pores of the young shoot they are destined to feed. But it is so arranged that, when the seed first shoots, there is produced at thebase of the germ, from a portion of the gluten, a small quantity of a substance (diastase) which has so powerful an effect upon the starch as immediately to render it soluble in the sap, which is thus enabled to take it up and convey it by degrees, just as it is wanted, to the shoot or to the root.[5]As the sap ascends, it becomes sweet,—the starch thus dissolved changes into sugar. When the shoot first becomes tipped with green, the sugar is again changed into the woody fibre, of which the stem of perfect plants chiefly consists. By the time that the food contained in the seed is exhausted,—often, as in the potato, long before,—the plant is able to live by its own exertions, at the expense of the air and the soil.

This change of the sugar of the sap into woody fibre is observable more or less in all plants. When they are shooting fastest the sugar is mostabundant; not, however, in those parts which are growing, but in those which convey the sap to the growing parts. Thus the sugar of the ascending sap of the maple and the alder disappears in the leaf and in the extremities of the twig; thus the sugar-canesweetensonly a certain distance above the ground, up to where the new growth is proceeding; and thus also the young beet and turnip abound most in sugar, while in all these plants the sweet principle diminishes as the year’s growth draws nearer to a close.

In the ripening of the ear also, the sweet taste, at first so perceptible, gradually diminishes and finally disappears; the sugar of the sap is here changed into thestarchof the grain, which, as above described, is afterwards destined, when the grain begins to sprout, to be reconverted into sugar for the nourishment of the rising germ.

In the ripening of fruits a different series of changes presents itself. The fruit is first tasteless, then becomes sour, and at last sweet. In this case the acid of the unripe is changed into the sugar of the ripened fruit.

The substance of plants,—their solid parts that is—consist chiefly ofwoody fibre, the name given to the fibrous substance, of which wood evidently consists. It is interesting to inquire how thissubstance can be formed from the compounds, carbonic acid and water, of which the food of plants in great measure consists. Nor is it difficult to find an answer.

It will be recollected that the leaf drinks in carbonic acid from the air, and delivers back its oxygen, retaining only its carbon. It is also known that water abounds in the sap. Hence carbon and water are thus abundantly present in the pores or vessels of the green leaf. Now, woody fibreconsists only of carbon and waterchemically combined together,—100 lbs. of dry woody fibre consisting of 50 lbs. of carbon and 50 lbs. of water. It is easy, therefore, to see how, when the carbon and water meet in the leaf, woody fibre may be produced by their mutual combination.

If, again, we inquire how this important principle of plants may be formed from the other substances, which enter by their roots, from the ulmic acid, for example, the answer is equally ready. This acid also consists of carbon and water only, 50 lbs. of carbon with 37½ of water forming ulmic acid, so that when it is introduced into the sap of the plant, all the materials are present from which the woody fibre may be produced.

Nor is it more difficult to see how starch may be converted into sugar, and this again into woody fibre; or how, again, sugar may be convertedinto starch in the ear of corn, or woody fibre into sugar during the ripening of the winter pear after its removal from the tree.Any one of these substances may be represented by carbon and water only.

Thus,—

In the interior of the plant, therefore, it is obvious that, whichever of these substances be present in the sap, the elements are at hand out of which any of the others may be produced. In what way they really are produced, the one from the other, and by what circumstances these transformations are favoured, it would lead into too great detail to attempt here to explain.[6]

We cannot help admiring to what varied purposes in nature the same elements are applied, and from how few and simple materials, substances, the most varied in their properties, are in the living vegetable daily produced.


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