Disease in plants

by H. Marshall Ward

The general conclusion that the plant stores large quantities of energy may of course be arrived at by simply estimating the enormous quantities of food-material which we obtain annually from agricultural plants.

Modern physiologists have attempted to proceed further than this, however, in their essays to form an estimate of the relations between the available energy in the solar rays and that used and stored in the plant.

If we reflect on such phenomena as the cool shade of a tree, and the deep gloom of a forest, and on experiments which show that an ordinary leaf certainly lets very little of the radiant energy of the spectrum pass through it, it becomes evident that many of the rays which fall on the leaf are absorbed in some form, and it becomes very probable that much of the solar energy, other than that we term light, is retained in the leaf for other purposes than assimilation—or, at least, no other conclusion seems possible in view of all the facts. Engelmann's researches with purple bacteria are almost conclusive on this point, and we may regard it as extremely probable that the plant makes other uses of rays, perceived by us as heat-rays, as sources of energy. Researches on the influences of temperature on assimilation and other functions point to the same conclusion; and Pfeffer and Rodemann definitely state that heat is converted into work in the osmotic cells. And the study of the absorption bands in the spectrum of the living leaf becomes more intelligible in the light of these conclusions. Moreover, the fact that a plant still carries on processes of metabolism when active transpiration has lowered its temperature below that of the surrounding air—and the plant therefore receives heat from the environment—points to similar conclusions.

The importance of the conclusion is immense, for even if the plant had no other sources of energy than the darker heat rays of the solar spectrum, it is clear that it ought to be able to do work.

The above may suffice for the general establishment of the conclusion that the plant absorbs more radiant energy than it employs solely for assimilation, and emphasises our deduction that it is a machine for storing energy.

The question now arises, how is this relatively enormous gain in energy employed by the plant? Our answer to the question is not complete, but modern discoveries in various directions have supplied clues here and there which enable us to sketch in some degree the kinds of changes that must go on.

Not the least startling result is that, important as carbon-assimilation is as the chief mode of supplying energy, it is not the only means that the plant has of obtaining such from the environment, and it is even possible—not to say probable—that energy from the external universe may be conveyed into the body of the plant in forms quite different from those perceptible to our eyes as light.

In the most recent survey of this domain, it is pointed out that we may distinguish between radiant energy, as not necessarily or obviously connected with ponderable matter, and mechanical energy, which is always connected in some way with material substance. All mechanical performances in the plants depend on transformation of some form of these, evident either as actual energy doing mechanical work, or as energy of potential ready to do work.

In so far as molecular movements are concerned, we have the special form of chemical energy. The evolution of heat, light and electricity by plants are instances of radiant energy, and so on.

Many transformations of energy in the plants are due to non-vital processes—e.g. transpiration, warping actions, etc., but we cannot always draw sharp lines between the various cases. Nor can we directly measure the work done in the living machinery; but from the effects of pressures and strains, the lifting of heavy weights, driving of root-tips into soil, osmotic phenomena, etc., it is certain that the values may be very high.