ON THE INFLUENCE OF CLIMATE ON PLANTS. 
113 
of leafy surface to the atmosphere, all plants of this description cannot subsist 
without a comparative intensity of light, and invariably inhabit those localities 
where a large supply of it is communicated to them. Again, those plants which 
are very porous, or are liberally furnished with organs of evaporation, and those 
which are nearly destitute of foliage, or have a tissue in which carbon scarcely 
exists, are generally found in retired and shady places, and abound most in the 
recesses of. tropical forests, where, during the growing season, the direct rays of the 
sun are never exercised upon them, their ingress being effectually prevented by the 
dense foliage of the trees by which they are surrounded and covered. These 
general features are alone sufficient to guide the experienced and enlightened 
botanist in the cultivation of any tribe of plants, or individual species, with respect 
to the quantity of light necessary for them ; but there are few gardeners who 
possess a sufficient acquaintance with physiological botany, to enable them to deter- 
mine, from the observation of the general appearance, or inspection of the structure 
of a plant, what degree of light is required to cultivate it in perfection. Therefore, 
this knowledge can only be obtained, either by a closer application to the study of 
this most interesting department of botanical science, combined with experience, 
or from the authentic accounts and reports of the persons who collect or discover 
the different species ; and these, not as regards the locality wherein an individual 
specimen of a particular species is found, but where plants of that species are most 
abundant, and in the greatest perfection. 
A large proportion of the plants which now adorn our stoves, and more espe- 
cially those interesting objects which are classed together under the denomination 
of " climbing plants," are inhabitants of the dense and almost impenetrable forests 
of tropical countries ; where, except during the dry season, scarcely a ray of solar 
light ever reaches them. In these, their native localities, they twine themselves 
around the stems and branches of the trees by which they are shaded, and grow 
most rapidly and vigorously, sometimes attaining a truly gigantic size. Let but 
these facts be contrasted with the treatment they usually receive in the stoves of 
this country, and the reason why they never grow to any considerable size, attain 
to any degree of perfection, or flourish to any extent commensurate with their 
natural luxuriance, w T ill at once be obvious. In our treatment of climbing plants, 
we usually train them to the rafters or roof of the stove, as if we were determined 
to pursue the most opposite system to that which nature enjoins. In their native 
localities, as we have before observed, they are never subjected to the immediate 
influence of solar light ; but in the stoves of this country, they are generally placed 
in a situation where they constantly receive the most powerful rays of the sun, and 
indeed, in that part of the house where they are most exposed to its influences. Is 
it not then the height of absurdity to expect that they will attain any degree of 
perfection in a situation so uncongenial to their natural habits ? We experienced 
a most striking proof of the propriety of these deductions in our orchidaceous 
house last season, where we planted out some climbing plants in the front border, 
vol. v. — NO. LIII. Q, 
