THE TEMPERATURE OF PLANTS, AND OF THE GROUND. 
69 
The subject of draining, thoroughly and to great extent, must be referred chiefly to 
agriculture ; and with that art (or, rather, science as it promises to become) it will not be 
pertinent to interfere. But as all the light we possess has, till lately, been obtained from 
that source, it may be proper to take advantage of some practical evidences which will 
prove exceedingly valuable to those who contemplate the formation and laying out of 
gardens. Here, then, it will be difficult to appeal to an authority of greater weight than is 
the “ Book of the Farm,” by Mr. Stephens, of Edinburgh ; and from the first edition of 
that elaborate work the following passages are taken in an abbreviated form. 
First, on the external signs by which existing superfluous water may be detected : it is 
stated, that to the experienced eye there will be little difficulty; for whatever kind of 
crop the land may bear, the peculiar state of that crop in those wet parts, when compared 
with the same where no such water prevails, assists in determining the point in question. 
Thus, there is a want of vigour in the plants, their hue is not that of health, their parts 
are not sufficiently developed, the growth of the plants is evidently retarded, and the soil 
feels non-elastic and “saddened” when trodden on. Such symptoms cannot be mistaken ; 
“ they are exhibited more obviously by the grain and green crops than by the sown 
grasses. In old pastures, the coarse, hard, uninviting appearance of the herbage yields 
quite sufficient indication of the moistened state of the soil.” 
In general, I should rather say the subsoil, and then, moreover, that the existence of 
rushes would be conclusive. Grass lawns may also be cited as offering further evidence, for 
such can never be kept in that condition of delicate softness of texture and verdant colour which 
constitute the peculiar beauty of English garden scenery, unless the soil at a considerable 
depth be perfectly relieved from stagnant water. All clayey districts are liable to this 
intruder : hence the value of chalk as a subsoil, where, if the stratum be deep, artificial 
drainage is not at all required. In the Isle of Thanet, I have seen a high degree of 
verdure persistently maintained, when, after weeks of drought, the clay lands of Kent have 
been completely scorched ; and so, indeed, were the grasses over the gravel of East Surrey, 
in 1847. Gravel, if deep, demands no artificial assistance, because water flows through 
that porous medium ; for, like a sieve, it holds no moisture; whereas chalk, once saturated, 
acts like a sponge, retaining pertinaciously a sufficiency of moisture, which, through the 
agency of heat, it yields, by slow degrees, to the roots of the plants that grow, even upon 
a very thin stratum of mould, deposited upon that absorbent subsoil. 
But there are other symptoms of w 7 ater which may be readily discerned, and to which 
we would now solicit immediate attention. After the land shall have been ploughed, prior 
to sowing the spring crops, when the winds of March become keen and drying, large 
patches or stripes of a deeper colour than that of the general surface are frequently 
observed, especially, as Mr. Stephens tells us, “ in the face or near the top of an acclivity ; ” 
but which I have noticed in Berkshire on flat grounds, where the surface of a large plot 
has become mottled with blots and patches of dark and light hue. In all such cases there 
can be no mistake : water lurks below, under all the darker spots, although it may not lie 
stagnant upon the entire surface of the subsoil. Now, setting aside the inevitable mischief 
which must be incurred in a fine garden, when, after a dripping autumn, the subsoil 
remains saturated, even so much so as to be found a swamp at a spade’s depth, we maintain 
that a garden can never be trusted, as available for perfect cultivation, if there be but one 
rod here and there whereon those dark patches are discoverable. They may, and do, 
vanish in a few weeks, during the continuance of dry weather, under the power of the sun 
at top, and by the escape of the vapour alluded to by Mr. Parkes, which carries off the 
heat from below. But the fundamental disease remains uncured, “ because it is on account 
of the water remaining in the soil all winter that the crops receive injury in summer.” 
A case in point occurs to me at the moment I now put pen to paper ; and it accords 
with another which I had to cope with — in a garden I held in Wiltshire, where, for want of 
a drain to open into an adjoining ditch, the water stood in a pool at fifteen inches below the 
surface. Near Croydon, to the east, there is a large field that slopes on three sides, with 
a considerable fall towards the centre, but particularly towards the south-east, where it 
terminates in a deep chalk-pit. At the highest side a little pond receives the water that 
