THE COTTAGE GARDENER AND COUNTRY GENTLEMAN, Juke IT, 1859. 
149 
called ventilators. But it was soon discovered that these 
minute winter toys could not stand the brunt of a hob 
summer’s day, and that there must be “ something rotten 
in the state” of gardening, to produce such disastrous 
results. Let us, for a moment, examine the case of ven¬ 
tilation, and endeavour to see how far it is necessitated, 
as concerns the inmates of glazed structures, whether 
fruits or flowers ;—with the circumstances connected with 
Wardian Cases we have nothing to do; Ferns, aquatic or 
submarine plants, &c., are exceptions. 
Everybody knows that the gardener is compelled to 
resort to copious ventilation in hot periods in order to 
prevent actual scorching of the foliage of plants or trees ; 
but scarcely so well acquainted with, or convinced of, the 
fact, that all enclosed air or heat becomes corrupted, and, 
indeed, loses essential properties. Even motion in the 
air,—a motion that may be slightly felt,—is proved to be 
of eminent service as a promoter of health and that 
robustness which is the general mark of successful culture 
both in. plants and fruits. How frequently do we flud 
in badly-ventilated structures Moss aud cryptogamous 
forms, Fungi, &c., engendered; and I am assured that 
there is not a real gardener in Britain that would desire 
to see an aptitude to produce such obscure invaders in 
any house where plants, and, more especially, fruits, 
were cultivated. Such things are at once an index to a 
stagnation of atmosphere, to the constant presence of 
damp, or to the want of motion in the air. 
It is now many years since I urged in these and other 
pages the propriety of giving air, as it is called, not 
only day, but night; modified, of course, in its extent by 
circumstances. Many discussions have occurred since 
then about the benefits to be derived from ventilation; 
and although not apolitical affair, I must borrow a phrase, 
and affirm that the liberals have been constantly gaining 
ground. I should think there is scarcely a good gardener 
that would repudiate the principle of constant night air, 
provided he could feel a sufficient guarantee against ex¬ 
treme vicissitudes, aud was not afraid of losing too much 
air-moisture. The latter is, indeed, the chief point to be 
considered, as to night ventilation. But the means em¬ 
ployed in our times for producing air-moisture in an 
almost constant supply are so numerous and so efficient, 
that there is much less room for anxiety or jealousy on 
that score than in former days. With regard to burning 
foliage and imperfect ventilation, we must remember that, 
until during the last thirty or forty years, thick green 
glass was in vogue, and this required little shading; 
therefore, little danger of scorching or burning. 
When I first arrived at Oulton Park, now nearly 
thirty-two years since, there was a range of houses about 
j one hundred feet in length, by sixteen to eighteen feet in 
width, that were a capital memorial of the olden time. 
The roofs were almost horizontal; and the glass would 
have made tolerably good tiles for roofing, such as might, 
some fine day hence, be patented as transparent roof 
: tiles. The panes were about twelve inches by nine 
inches, and they overlapped each other about two broad 
inches. The glass was a dull, dirty-looking green, and 
oh! such a thickness. The laps were filled with sedi¬ 
ment, in which sundry Cryptogams seemed to revel as in 
their native element. Shading and burning here were 
out of the question. The Vines were exceedingly long- 
jointed, and the “ shows,” or young bunches, had a con¬ 
stant tendency to run into wires. The roots, when the 
border was broken, up, were like balf-cliarred sticks, and 
the border was one adhesive mass, for five feet, or moie, 
in depth. . 
Let us see what benefits a liberal ventilation afiords. 
Of course such is antagonistic to the production of Mosses, 
Fungi, &c., which, in a state of nature, are generally pro¬ 
duced in spots where stagnant or vitiated air hovers 
around, and the atmosphere sluggish and dull. It is 
almost sufficient to aflord arguments for liberal and Ire- 
quent ventilation to look into a close propagating-kouse, 
and observe the delicate and attenuated appearance of 
drawn or excited cuttings, or young growing stock. To 
be sure the practice there is well adapted to the desired 
end, which is not only to propagate, but to produce sale¬ 
able or eligible stock in the shortest time possible But 
to get such stock into working order—say young Vines 
into a fruitful state—the conditions have to be reversed. 
Sturdiness and short-jointed wood are the general cri¬ 
terion of a healthy and fruitful state ; and this cannot be 
obtained without most liberal ventilation. The free 
deposition of that fat or resinous substance, called by 
botanists chlorophyll—the colouring matter of thq foliage 
of plants, is much augmented by free ventilation. An 
abundance of colouring matter is a well-known mark of 
robustness and health. 
People sometimes complain of cold currents, and of 
plants suffering thereby ; but if a constant circulation or 
motion of the air is sustained in houses where plants, Ac., 
are cultivated, folks would not be so jealous as they are 
about a puff of wind. The great fault of most forciilg, or 
hurrying, processes is, that they, after all, are but a 
leaning to a coddling system. Atmospheres of this kind 
are kept by far too uniform: there is still not sufficient 
difference between day and night—not such as we find in 
nature. Those alternate fluctuations, or depressions, which 
we consider as Nature’s excesses, are rather more to be con¬ 
sidered as intended to be conducive to the end in view. 
We must begin at the beginning, if this free course of 
treatment is to be pursued. We must, in all forcing 
courses, from the first unfolding of the bud, inure our sub¬ 
jects to a liberal air, establishing betimes a degree of hardi¬ 
hood instead of an artificially-induced tenderness. It is a 
common practice of forcing gardeners to keep theirsubjects 
close at the commencement of the forcing process ; and 
the recommendation on the whole is not altogether without 
reason. I would, however, advise young gardeners to 
consider well what this means, and to analyse it in their 
own minds. No man can make a Vine or a Peach shoot 
or bloom stronger by hermetically closing, as it were, a 
house, and sustaining an unusual amount of air-moisture, 
unless he have some adjuncts more potent still. Aud 
what are those adjuncts? A well-conditioned root, and 
latent energies, which can be made available at a short 
notice. There are two distinct powers here which ought 
to be distinguished : the one, immediate root action, 
coincident with the developing spray; the other, those 
latent stores which may be called stock in hand, and 
which frequently, especially in the Vine, carry out the first 
stages before the root action can rush to its assistance. 
Thus it is that we have found cut-down Willow and other 
trees, in damp situations, vegetate annually tor several 
years before the vital spark is extinct. Such matters 
should be well looked into by our young and rising 
generation of gardeners, who are destined to “push us 
oil' our stools.” Well mastered, these apparently trivial 
things will furnish them with a key which will open out 
Nature’s secrets, and cause the film to pass from their 
eyes. ... 
It must not be supposed that I advise people to give 
air recklessly. Such inference I repudiate : but I do 
think that the matter of ventilation has scarcely received 
that grave consideration which it deserves. 
It. Eekingtok.- 
THE SCIENCE OF GARDENING. 
(Continued from page 139.) 
“The rapidity with which the water contained in various soils 
evaporates, by exposure to the atmosphere, varies very consider¬ 
ably. The following table contains the results of the experiments 
made by M. Schubler, in reference to this point, w ith 200 grains 
of the several earths at a temperature of G5|°: they were spread 
out over a surface of ten square inches. The second column of 
the table contains in one view the portions of time hi which the 
several earths respectively became dry under exposure to the 
