Yellow Heath

YELLOW HEATH, Erica Carendishian

ERICA Carendishiana derives its name from having been formerly known as the "Duke of Devonshire's golden heath." Its history is involved in some obscurity. It came into being anterior to the days of illustrated horticultural periodicals, and therefore obtained less attention than such a fine plant would have attracted at the present day on first appearing as a novelty. It was raised by the Messrs. Rollison and Sons, of the celebrated Tooting Nurseries, by fertilising the flowers of Erica depressa with the pollen of E. Patersoni. Both these have yellow flowers, and the Cavendish hybrid is a finer plant than either of them, and particularly well adapted for specimen cultivation. In the times that are spoken of as the "palmy days of Chiswick," the Cavendish heath was eminently fashionable, and Mr. Fairbairn, of Clapham, used to exhibit enormous specimens in a wondrous state of health and beauty. But even in these degenerate days we occasionally see it in perfect trim as a specimen plant, among the most successful cultivators of recent years being Mr. Thomas Baines, formerly of Bowdon, and Messrs. Cole, of Withington. At the present time among the ablest men in handling the plant are Mr. Cypher, of Cheltenham, and Mr. Tudgey, of Waltham.

Between the growing of gigantic specimens, and the neat little plants that suit an amateur's greenhouse, there is considerable difference. A collection of heaths may be formed and kept at little expense, and to speak the truth about them, they are very easy to grow, and also very easy to kill; and the failures that occur usually represent a waste of delicate attentions. When housed with bedding plants and kept warm and close all the winter, and liberally and frequently watered, they die and do not come to life again. They belong to the more breezy and bracing climates of the Cape, and in cultivation require free ventilation, very moderate allowances of water, abundance of light, and to be guarded against all extremes of heat, cold, drought, and humidity. The men who succeed best with heaths group them in airy spacious houses with other plants of like character, such as hedaromas and epacrises, and other "hard-wooded plants." But a considerable proportion of the Cape heaths are so nearly hardy that, with ordinary care, a brick pit without any fire-heat will suffice for their safe wintering. The great point is to protect them from damp, towards effecting which perfect cleanliness and systematic ventilation will contribute in the most direct manner.

Wallflower

THE WALLFLOWER, Cheiranthus Cheir

THE wallflower is a prominent member of the cheerful family of "old-fashioned" flowers, and obviously takes its name from the circumstance that it thrives on walls, which, indeed, it often adorns in a most extravagant and delightful manner, making them mountains of perfume and beacons of fire. I was much struck with the glow of an old bastion at Amiens in April last, as the sun-shine streamed through its ruddy bloom of wallflower, and I very gladly remembered, in connection with the charming spectacle, the lines of Bernard Barton, in reference to the wallflowers of Leiston Abbey--

"And where my favourite abbey rears on high

Iris

THE IRIS, Iris Germanic

IRIS was the daughter of Thaumas and Electra, and her office was that of messenger to Juno. Therefore it is that in the "Iliad" and the "AEneid" this "lady of colour" has important business to transact, and, as a matter of course, her traffic between heaven and earth is facilitated by that prehistoric railroad and aerial bridge, the "bow bent in the sky," resplendent with in-numerable tints. The hues of the rainbow are seen in the human eye, for in truth the bow is there--

"Bespeaking our fears, dissolving in tears,

Tacsonia

TACSONIA, Tacsonia Van Volxem

PASSION-FLOWERS and tacsonias are so nearly related, that it is for botanical rather than horticultural purposes that they are separated, as will be shown in the Synopsis, where technical matters admit of treatment more conveniently than here. It may be stated at once that the plant represented by the accompanying plate is the finest climber known to cultivation for a spacious conservatory or cool plant-house. A temperature not lower than 40 degree will keep it safely through the winter, and from May to November the natural temperature suffices; or, in other words, it needs no aid from artificial heat except during the four or five winter months, and then only sufficient to keep it safe from frost. It is of no use to plant this rampant grower in a small house; and to attempt to grow it in a pot is about as unreasonable as to attempt to raise eagles in canary cages.

There are times when "comparisons are odious;" in the present case they might be ridiculous, for there is no plant at our command that could be put before, or even beside, this magnificent beauty; for even the lapageria, lovely as it is, becomes nothing when we have seen Tacsonia Van Volxemi in a thorough state of prosperity in a great conservatory, where it is quite at home.

Hawthorn

THE HAWTHORN, Cratoegus oxyacanth

IF the "milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale" had, as a literary subject, been "unattempted yet in prose or rhyme," the temptation would at this moment be too strong to be resisted. But turn to the books, dear reader, and see that whoever could say or sing something in its praise has made the most of his advantage. The history of the thorn has in consequence grown to vast proportions. We may therefore devote the small space at our disposal to a new essay on the place of the thorn in the garden; and we begin by saying that the double variety here figured represents a very important and splendid section of thorns that, in the most proper sense of the term, may be described as pictorial and garden trees.

It may be said of the thorns that they are more accommodating than any equally handsome class of hardy deciduous trees. Go to Lincoln's Inn Fields in June, and there you shall see, flowering freely, a fine collection of varieties of Cratoegus oxyacantha in a most thriving state in the very heart of smoky London, where earth and air have been poisoned by coal-smoke for centuries. Go to Troutbeck in July, and walk up the Vale to Kirkstone Pass, and you may see thousands of hawthorns blooming gaily, and you may note by the herbage and the colour of the soil that they are all located on a basis of starvation, where oaks and elms would no more grow than they would on a cheeseplate. And you may go to Cobham Park, and see huge "creeping" thorns thriving in a good soil that produces the finest timber; and after this, wherever you meet with thorns, you will probably note that they are almost careless of conditions, as though endowed with a special power of adapting themselves to any circumstances short of being made into faggots and put upon the fire. And they adapt themselves to that fairly well, for thornwood is capital fuel, but the adaptation is of quite a temporary nature.

Globe Flower

GLOBE FLOWER, Trollius Europaeu

GLOBE flowers and marsh marigolds may be described as the finest of all the buttercups that adorn moist meadows and riverside wastes. They may be seen flowering together in the same fields, but generally speaking the marsh marigold, or caltha, has finished its course with joy and settled down to quiet rest ere the globe flower furnishes its golden cups to make the meadow gay. The British globe flower has been honourably associated with the custom of decorating churches with garlands, but is now not much sought for that purpose. But we have seen it plentifully used in the well dressings in the Peak country, making a beautiful fringe to the inscription wrought out in other flowers, "Water is the gift of God," or "Health and temperance are good old friends." It is one of the palest coloured and least polished of the yellow flowers of the ranunculus family, but it is a truly beautiful flower, with some fine points for the observant artist, and will serve as a lesson for the observant amateur in its love of a deep rich moist soil, for this is a special peculiarity of a majority of its kindred.

The several species of Trollius are good garden plants, compact in growth, and not given to rambling; deep rooting and well able to take care of themselves in a suitable, well-drained soil; liking moisture indeed, but requiring to be protected against stagnant water near the surface. They are proper border plants, of little use for grouping, but showing well in large clumps. They may be propagated from seeds and by divisions of the root. It is only when a large stock is required that seeds should be sown, although to raise them is a very simple matter. It is best always to sow in pans or boxes as soon as ripe, and shut up in an old frame; or, lacking the accommodation, the seed may be sown on a sheltered border, and the spot should be marked with a tally, to prevent disturbance and insure timely removal of weeds as fast as they appear. The seeds will not germinate until the following spring, and if the plants are pricked out when large enough to handle, a nice bed of light soil being selected for the purpose, one year's growing will make flowering specimens of them, although for fine clumps we must wait four or five years. When a few plants only are wanted, the roots should be divided in August or September, and the divisions at once planted where they are to remain. To divide into many small pieces will be to risk loss of all in the winter, therefore it is true economy to be content with cutting a strong root into two or three parts, as, though it may appear an easy matter to cut it into a dozen or more, the expert propagator alone is to be trusted to cut the roots of such plants to so great an extent.

Sweet Pea

THE SWEET PEA, Lathyrus odoratu

IT is a singular circumstance that the sweet pea has been commonly regarded as a half-hardy annual, whereas it is as hardy as any pea in cultivation, and the seed may not only be sown in February in the open ground, but in November, and if the mice do not eat it the winter will not kill it, and in due time the plants will appear with the sunshine of the early spring. But this fine plant deserves extra care, and should never be grown in a careless manner. It is the custom with many gardeners to sow the seed in pots and nurse the young plants in frames, but we prefer to sow them where they are to remain, and to defer doing this until the middle of March, for if the plants come up with a flush of warm weather before the frosts are over, they are apt to be nipped, and transplanting puts them back, so that to raise them in pots for the purpose is decidedly objectionable. Thus we simplify the ordinary cultivation, but we must urge that what is done should be done well. A piece of mellow soil in an open situation should be prepared, by being well dug and rather liberally manured, in autumn or winter, and when the seed is sown this should be dug over again and the lumps broken to make a nice seed-bed; then sow in a neat drill an inch and a half deep, and very soon after the plants appear put to them stakes of brushwood about four feet high, selecting for this purpose the neatest and most feathery pea-sticks you can find. Peas that are grown to eat may be supported roughly, but peas that are grown to be admired for their beauty should be supported in the neatest manner possible; therefore wire trellises and "rissels" made for the purpose may with advantages be employed, especially when the peas occupy a prominent situation in the garden.

In the event of dry hot weather occurring early in the summer, sweet peas should be liberally watered two or three times a week, and if the natural soil is sandy or chalky it may be advisable to mulch the rows with half-rotten stable dung, which, if needful, can be concealed with a sprinkling of earth. To keep them flowering freely to the end of the season, all the pods should be removed upon becoming visible, and the plants, being thus relieved of the tax upon their energies the swelling of the seed would entail, will maintain their vigour more completely, and flower the more freely in consequence.

Salvia

SALVIA, OR BOLIVIAN SAGE, Salvia Bolivian

WITHIN the last half-dozen years several new species and varieties of salvia have been introduced to our gardens, very much to the advantage of the winter colouring of the greenhouse and conservatory. Our old friend Salvia splendens is not eclipsed or superseded by any of the new-comers, for that and S. patens are still the two best plants of the sage family for the flower garden. When grown from summer-struck cuttings and potted on to insure strong plants, the scarlet-flowering sage is a loud summer beauty. The best place for a clump is in the sunniest part of the garden, the soil to be somewhat poor and stony, and if containing some proportion of old plaster or other calcareous rubbish, all the better. For a few isolated plants a sunny border near a hot wall answers admirably, as the heat reflected from the wall, together with the dryness of the soil, will favour the abundant flowering for which the plant is famous when growing to its own liking.

When raised from spring-struck cuttings, the scarlet sage will often make a free growth in the open ground, and show not a single flower to justify the little care it requires. In this case the possessor of the plant may still be as happy and hopeful as he that fights and runs away, for the triumph is but delayed, and may with proper courage be still commanded. Some time in September the flowerless plants should be carefully lifted so as to keep as much earth about their roots as possible, and be put into smallish pots--smallish as compared with the size of the plants, but not so small as to necessitate any severe injury to the roots. The soil used in filling in to make them firm in the pots should be poor sandy stuff, the fresher the better, but there is no manure needed. The roots must be kept only moderately moist, and the tops should be moistened with a shower from the syringe twice a day; the home of the plants must be a shady place in a warm greenhouse. In the course of a few days after being potted, they will hold up their heads and look well, and may then be put in the full light, and have water regularly, but should never be very wet at the root. There must be no pruning of any kind; not even a leaf should be injured except by unavoidable accident. All this is very simple, but it is none the less important. In the course of November the flowers will appear, and if the house is kept warm and the plants are near the glass, there will be a beautiful display for fully two months: say until the turn of the year, and then some other species of salvia may be at command.

Eschscholtzia

THE ESCHSCHOLTZIA, Eschscholtzia Californic

THE profane manner in which his name would be uttered and execrated for its inherent ugliness, and the perversity of writers and printers in spelling it, could never by any chance have occurred to Dr. Eschscholtz, happy in the midst of his flowers. Peace to his dust, honour to his memory, and may his name, as having a place in the roll of devotees of the goddess Flora, be henceforth and for ever spelt correctly.

This is a curious and interesting plant, and so nearly related to the genus papaver, that it may with propriety be called the yellow California poppy. The leaves are of a glaucous green, and much divided into narrow linear segments. The flower-bud is an elongated spiral cone, covered with an extinguisher-like calyx, which is pushed off upwards as the petals expand, and the flower rests on a fleshy receptacle with a dilated margin, which has been, or might be, copied in many works of art. The seed-vessel is a long striated pod, altogether differing in appearance from the globular or urn-shaped pod of a true poppy, and it opens by two valves. For a study of plant structure this is a capital subject, and the young botanist will do well to grow a few tufts of Eschscholtzias in the garden, and give close heed to them in all their stages from the cradle to the grave.

Rock-Rose

THE ROCK-ROSE, Helianthemum vulgar

A ROCK-ROSE may be more properly called a sun-rose, for a Helianthemum must be a flower of the sun. The plants of this class known to gardens are very beautiful and thoroughly useful. The rockroses belong to the Cistus family, which love sunshine, and produce gay flowers. The best of the group is Cistus ladanifera, a hardy shrub in the south of England, and one that makes an impression when seen at its best, and very often it is in the tiny front garden of some old-fashioned house in a sleepy country town that this gay cistus will be found in perfection. From thence to the grand rockery is a great transition, but having made it, we see the cistus again and amid grander surroundings. But in the many gardens where such plants are wanted to illustrate the variety and splendour of true garden vegetation, we shall scarcely find any cistus or any sun-rose.

To begin with sun-roses is easy enough, and it is easy to go on with them. The best place for them is the sunny ledge of a good rockery, on a sandy or calcareous soil, where they will take care of themselves, spreading and flowering in the most delightful manner. But as we never know what we can do until we try, it remains to be said as regards the general subject of growing sun-roses, that they thrive fairly well on heavy soil and under the shade of large trees. In the arboretum at Hermitage a considerable collection of Helianthemums, generously supplied by Mr. Ware for experimental purposes, were planted on the margin of a mound consisting of heavy loamy soil, beneath the shade of ash and chestnut trees. The rock-roses stood the trial well; they grew with vigour, flowered with freedom, were altogether delightful, and occupied their shady mound for the space of nine years. The plants were very small indeed when first put into the ground, but they spread to the dimensions of many feet before their race was run. They were not in completer shade, because the morning sun reached them from open meadows skirting their side of the garden, and with the sunshine came sweet air from the east, which we may suppose they fully enjoyed.

Day-Lily

THE DAY-LILY, Hemerocallis flav

THE day-lily is not in high repute. Nevertheless there are not many plants that can surpass it in usefulness or beauty. Imprimis, it will grow in any soil, and if the villainous spade chops its unseen roots, it will come through the trial and sprout up again in the way of a mutilated horse-radish. It will thrive under the deep shade of plantations where the ground is as dry as dust all the summer, and pretty well exhausted of all goodness by the hungry roots of the trees. When in flower a large clump presents a beautiful appearance, and when not in flower the fresh cheerful green and the elegant outlines of the sword or sickle-shaped leaves are pleasing features. But there remains to be told a fact "not generally known," and it is that this beautiful lily may be turned to excellent account to furnish fodder to cattle, and more especially to cows in milk.

As garden plants the day-lilies deserve much more attention than they have as yet obtained. Their flowers are showy and fragrant, and there are in cultivation about a dozen species and varieties, all highly ornamental. The commonest of the series are the yellow (Hemerocallis flava) and the copper (H. fulva). Amongst the many good things secured to us by the late Mr. Robert Fortune--most fortunate of botanical travellers--was the Japan species (H. kwanso), of which there are two or three varieties. One of these, called Kwanso flore pleno, has green leaves and double yellow flowers; the other, called Kwanso flore pleno foliis variegatis (which, if not long enough, may be lengthened by prefixing the generic name Hemerocallis), has splendidly variegated leaves and double yellow flowers, and atones for the length of its name by the fact that it is the finest hardy variegated-leaved plant in cultivation ! There are many costly stove plants grown for the beauty of their leaves that really come short of the splendour of this hardy plant, which may be purchased for a couple of shillings and grown in the commonest soil, and will, with very little care, make a superb ornament for the conservatory or for the choicest rockery or border.

Crassula

THE CRASSULA, Crassula coccine

THIS is one of the handsomest and most useful plants of its class, and, in common with many other garden favourites, it presents us with several variations, the results of the manipulations of the florists. The reader who does not happen to know the plant may be advised to look first in the central avenue of Covent Garden Market in June and July. The accompanying portrait will certainly assist in the identification, but the chances are that the attention will be arrested by a batch of plants having the style of growth indicated by the plate, but with crowing corymbs of flowers of an intensely vivid carmine-scarlet colour. Now it may be proper to say that in nearly all botanical and horticultural inquiries and criticisms, colour is the last quality to be thought of while form is the first. The splendid scarlet crassulas that will probably be seen in the market, and that one might imagine to be floral emblems of fire-worship, are examples of the typical, or specific, or normal, or original Crassula coccinea, while the one here figured is one of its variations, for the plant gives us a choice of scarlet, crimson, carmine, and white flowers; but in every case the form and the habit of growth are the same.

There is not a plant in the country more worthy of the attention of the amateur florist than this. To grow it well a heated plant-house is absolutely necessary; but given that, the rest is easy. The first requisite to success is to raise a few young plants from cuttings, the best time for this being July. These, being rooted in three-inch pots, may be wintered in the greenhouse, where they must have plenty of light, and be safe from frost and drip. Give them the warmest and driest place in the house, and let them have sufficient water to keep the leaves plump, for if the leaves shrivel, the plants will be weakened.

Primula

PRIMULA, OR CHINA PRIMROS

FAMILIARITY does not always breed contempt, and the exceptions to the rule may supply a problem for the philosophers. Perhaps familiarity never breeds contempt, for what we attribute to "familiarity" may be really attributable to the nearer knowledge of men and things that familiarity favours. We set up idols and worship them. When we discover that they are made of wood, we dethrone them. We admire a thing because it is new, and discard it when we learn that it is worthless; but a really good thing retains our respect when the novelty has passed away, and thus it is that we never feel contempt for such familiar, cheap, and simple things as bread and butter, scarlet runners, and Chinese primroses.

This plant came to our hands in the year 1820, and for some time thereafter was but poorly grown, and had no such beauty as it has now. Our figure represents it as it usually appeared in the early days of its advance in the way of improvement. Within the past ten years the progress of improvement has been really wonderful, for we have great variety of leafage, the leaves being in many cases elegantly lobed, and constituting a race called "fernleaved primulas;" while the flowers are single and double, smooth and fringed, and of all colours, from pure white to fiery red, approaching pure scarlet.

Polyanthus

THE POLYANTHUS, Primula elatio

WHAT is the difference between a primrose and a polyanthus? There is a great difference apparently, for one is catalogued as Primula vulgaris, and the other as Primula elatior. The ready answer is, that a primrose has one flower on a stalk, but a polyanthus has many. It happens, however, that primroses are produced in clusters, as polyanthuses are, but they appear to be produced singly, because the stem that carries the cluster is very short, and the secondary stem, or peduncle that carries the flower, is very long. Now and then a common primrose determines to explain the case to the young botanist, and then we see a stout stem bearing on its summit a cluster of primroses. These are called polyanthus primroses, and, generally speaking, they are scarcely so pretty as the (apparently) single stalked common primroses. But how comes all this colour into the polyanthus, if it is but a primrose, seeing that a true primrose is always of a pale yellow colour? But, then, a true primrose is not necessarily of a pale yellow colour, for we have them of all colours, from pure white to deep yellow, and from pale rose and lavender to crimson and purple-blue. On one occasion I sat down in the park at Bicton to gossip with my old friend the late Mr. James Barnes, and the knoll of wild herbage we selected for our symposium was dotted with primroses of at least a dozen colours, some being brown or slaty, but others lively rose, full purple, red, and the most delicate lilac. Therefore, as to the growth and the colouring, it will not be difficult for the observant gardener to believe that the primrose and the polyanthus are but forms of the same species, owning a common origin in the type named by Linnaeus Primula veris.

There are two distinct classes of polyanthuses. The bedding and border kinds have flowers characterised by gay colours; the florists' or exhibition polyanthuses have dark maroon or black grounds, and a rich gold lacing. On the roundness, smoothness, velvety texture, and sharpness of the lacing depends the relative merit of the show varieties, which are valued highly by the few florists who understand and appreciate them.

Oxlip

THE OXLIP, Primula elatio

ALTHOUGH the primrose, the cowslip, and the oxlip are beyond all reasonable doubt variations of one typical plant, it is convenient to follow the books in regarding them as three distinct species. Between the common primrose and the other two there is an obvious difference in the disposition of the flowers--those of the first appearing singly from amongst the leaves; those of the cowslip and oxlip appearing in compact clusters or umbels on the summit of a common stem which rises above the leaves. This difference, though obvious and a reason for accepted specific distinctions, is after all one of degree only, and not of kind, for when the primrose is carefully examined, it will be found that each separate flower is on a long peduncle that springs from a common stalk which is simply too short to be seen until searched for, but is then easily discovered. Linnaeus had noted all this, and regarded the three plants as varieties of one common type. But succeeding botanists rejected his view, and thus they were made to rank as species. Now, however, the view of Linnaeus once more prevails, and we find no difficulty in accepting it. Occasionally a common primrose will assume the cowslip and oxlip mode of flowering, the common stem rising above the leaves and displaying all the flowers as members of an umbel. And on the other hand, oxlips and cowslips will occasionally produce short stems with long peduncles, so that the flowers appear singly. In the garden the variations that occur are of the most interesting nature, and instructively illustrate the speculations of the botanists.

The primrose is a hedgebank flower, loving woods, partial shade, and a moist soil. The cowslip is a pasture flower, loving a somewhat dry soil and full exposure. It has small and comparatively unattractive flowers, which, however, are capable of remarkable modifications when taken in hand by the florist, for the cowslip doubtless is the parent of the polyanthus, and some intermediate forms that find favour in gardens. The oxlip is very closely allied to the cowslip, but differs in having a broader and flatter flower. As a wilding it is usually met with in more luxuriant pastures than the cowslip; it loves moisture, but does not thrive in the shade, where the primrose is usually at home. As a garden plant it requires a rich soil, and it suffers much if very dry at the root for any length of time in high summer. Consequently frame culture suits the better kinds more thoroughly than border culture, because frame plants obtain more constant attention than those in borders, and the regular supplies of water through the summer tend very much to insure the rich and abundant bloom that renders these plants so delightful in the spring.

Oleander

THE OLEANDER, Nerium oleande

NOT many of our "fine old-fashioned plants" can equal the oleander in beauty and usefulness, and whatever goes to make up the quality called "intrinsic value." Not only is it always worth keeping as a true household plant-a sort of patrician laurel-but it improves with age, and can scarcely be too large for the enjoyment of its buxom beauty, provided it does not grow, as the Vicar's family picture did, to dimensions in excess of the place it is to occupy. Occasionally, but at rare intervals, we meet with family oleanders that are creditable to their owners, and one such we remember in an especial manner, having met with it several years in succession at the Peterborough summer flower show, where we have manifested our approval of it by the award of a special prize, and perhaps a commendation in addition. This fine plant-if we may trust our memory-may be described as about six feet in height and four feet through, leafy from top to bottom, and, when at its best, well sprinkled with glowing flowers that might be likened to roses in form and colour averaging in size about double that of our coloured figure. A considerable number of family oleanders are kept in dark conservatories or lumber-rooms all the winter, and in some obscure corner out of doors all the summer; and, although they grow a little, they are always bare, and rarely flower. All that ails them is starvation, and the remedy, therefore, is to be found in a little generous cultivation.

The oleander is a river-side plant, inhabiting parts of Western Asia and Southern Europe. All river-side plants like good living, being born to mud, water, and warmth. But a cool conservatory, safe from frost, suffices for the preservation of the plant during winter, when it should have a little water occasionally, and a temperature never lower than 35 degree, and for the most part not below 40 degree. When starting into growth in the spring, the plant needs a warm place, and therefore should be put into a sunny greenhouse, and have liberal supplies of weak manure-water. This treatment will promote a free growth, and as she shoots made this season will, if well ripened, bloom the next, it is advisable not to prune the plant at all, although, in common with all such things, it must be pruned at times to keep it within bounds, and to regulate the general contour. It is, however, of importance for the owner of an oleander to bear in mind that when the young shoots are cut back, the next year's flowers are removed with them.

Mignonette

MIGNONETTE, Rescda odorat

A PLANT may have no history, and yet be full of fame. It is so with the mignonette, which was unknown to the authors of the best of our old English gardening books, and the history of which may be written on the thumbnail. It is a plentiful weed in Northern Africa, and more particularly in Egypt, whence it travelled to Italy, and made its way northward. In 1742 Lord Bateman saw it in the Royal Garden of Paris, and secured seed for its introduction to this country, where it soon became as famous as in France, its delightfully fresh perfume being a sufficient recommendation. The French gave it the familiar name it bears of "little darling," and none would desire to improve upon that. It is never spoken of as a reseda except in botanic gardens, and the most enlightened company would be nonplussed if one were to remark on the sweetness of Reseda odorata without at the same time giving it the name by which it is more commonly known.

The mignonette is an annual or a perennial, at the command of the cultivator. At the moment of writing this we have near at hand plants of gigantic stature, that have flowered almost continuously winter and summer through a term of seven years, and appear capable of continuing the delightful performance for seven years more, if aided with a reasonable amount of care. Any one who has a greenhouse may easily grow mignonette to a great size, say, for example, to the stature of a man, and of breadth proportionate to form a noble tree, the two requisites being a rich light soil and complete immunity from frost, in a house well supplied with air and light. At the moment of writing this we can see on a garden border a patch of self-sown mignonette, and by this example we can rank it with the weeds of the garden. Indeed, for many years past we have always had as much outdoor mignonette as we needed without sowing a single grain of seed. The self-sown plants scatter seed freely, and we have to destroy a considerable number of the plants that appear uninvited and in excess of requirements. Thus we have presented the two extremes of mignonette culture; but we must add that the pot culture of mignonette is the most remunerative, for well-grown specimens are unique in beauty, and their fragrance in the conservatory or dwelling-house is invaluable.

Blue Nemophila

BLUE NEMOPHILA, Nemophila insigni

IT would be a difficult task to find a more familiar garden flower than the blue nemophila; for it is one of the first favourites of the amateur gardener, and never ceases--as some first favourites do--to retain a hold upon his affections, even when he has bloomed into the veteran horticulturist. The beginner may doat upon the clumps of lovely blue flowers that appear in the borders where, for the first time in his life, he has sown some seeds; but if he goes on as he began, taking constant interest in flowers, he may chance to see this same plant in a shape that tells emphatically its popularity. On all the great flower-seed farms it is grown in astonishing quantities, and the growers amuse their visitors by measuring the lines to state the sum-total in parts of a mile. The last measurement we witnessed amounted to three-quarters of a mile.

This plant represents a series of hardy annuals obtained from California in the early days of exploration in the "Far West," by David Douglas, who was sent out by the Horticultural Society of London to secure new floral treasures for British gardens. He was eminently successful, for he not only collected plants that have proved of immense value in this country, but he also contributed important papers to the "Horticultural Transactions" and to other publications of his time. This man ranks amongst the "martyrs of science," and the very best of our hardy annuals may be regarded as memorials of his honourable labours and of his unhappy end. He was born in Scotland in the year 1798, and early in life devoted his mind to the science of botany. Being in the employ of the Horticultural Society as a plant-collector, he explored the Columbia River and California in the years 1825 to 1827, securing in the interest of British horticulture a great many of our now most valued hardy plants. From the Pacific coast he proceeded to the Sandwich Islands, where he met with a dreadful death on the 12th of July, 1834. It was the custom then in the Sandwich Islands to capture wild cattle by means of pitfalls. Into one of these pits the unhappy Douglas fell, and, meeting there a captured bullock, was attacked by the beast and gored to death, no help being near and nothing being known of the event until the next day.

Blue Lobelia

BLUE LOBELIA, Lobelia erinu

APLANT so well known as the little blue lobelia may appear capable of telling its own story, but it is not so; and there is so much in the story that we must be business-like, and avoid sentiment and gossiping. It represents a pretty group of dwarf-growing, wiry-habited, free-flowering plants, the flowers of which are mostly of some shade of blue, but occasionally white, rosy purple, and pucy pink. They are all annuals or perennials, according to the treatment they receive and the kind of season they have passed through. In a hot dry summer they produce an abundance of seed, and become exhausted. In this case the old plants are likely to die during the winter, however much care may be taken of them. After a wet cool summer the old plants are likely to survive the winter, if potted and housed sufficiently early in the autumn.

In the cultivation of these dwarf lobelias, the saving of old plants is resorted to only for the purpose of supplying cuttings in spring, annual renewals of the plants being absolutely needful if a free growth and an abundant bloom be desired. A quick way of making stock is to tear the plants to pieces in the autumn, and pot the little rooted tufts in sandy soil and store them away in a greenhouse or pit. The section known as "pumila," consisting of very dwarf cushion-like plants, may be very well propagated by this method, but the more wiry ones, such as ramosa and elegans, are best grown from cuttings. They may all be most easily grown from seeds sown in pans in February or March, and afterwards pricked out to become strong in time for bedding, or the seed may be sown in April where the plants are to remain to flower, and if thinned in good time the plants will do very well, although, of course, they will flower somewhat late.

Begonia

THE BEGONIA, Begonia hydrocotylifoli

TUBEROUS begonias have been discoursed upon in our Second Series, and the plant before us gives occasion for a brief essay on the species which belong more especially to the stove, and are, with very few exceptions, of no use whatever for the decoration of the open garden. By the term "stove" may be understood, in this connection, the tropical plant-house and the warm greenhouse, and it is advisable to set out with the word "stove" to impress upon the reader the fact that these begonias love warmth and moisture, and the treatment that suits many greenhouse plants will only bring disappointment if applied to them. It is a fact, however, of some importance that many of the tender begonias may be grown in an ordinary greenhouse by an expert in plant culture. A common greenhouse becomes a stove for a brief space of time, and in the course of a year a certain number of plants of good renown may be so managed that their whole season's growth may be completed by a careful management of fire-heat at first, and sun-heat afterwards, without the aid of a stove, and in a greenhouse of the most commonplace description. We have seen collections comprising many of the best species which are grown for their flowers, and the whole of the section of Begonia rex, which are grown for their magnificent leaves, brought to perfection in a common greenhouse, and the secret of success lay in the judicious timing of their growing and resting to suit the circumstances. The most important point, perhaps, is to keep them so dry in winter that frost will not prove injurious, and, on the other hand, to keep them sufficiently moist that vitality will not be impaired; for to be dust-dry is deadly to begonias, but when wintered at a low temperature they must be kept as dry as possible short of killing them by drought. One reason of their endurance in a nearly dry state with a low temperature is the bulky nature of the root-stock, which, in some sense, serves as a bulb or corm. So long as this is not frozen, and can be preserved from shrivelling, it has the power to grow when aided by warmth and moisture; therefore when wintered in a common greenhouse the tender begonias require to be started into growth in spring on a steady hotbed, or in the sunny corner of a greenhouse, where they can be a little shaded and have careful watching, until the growth and the season have both advanced to render such special cares no longer necessary.

A code of culture for the more tender begonias may be given in a few words. They are easily propagated, as they root freely in sandy soil with the aid of heat and moisture, and at this stage must be treated as stove plants. The soil that suits them best is mellow sandy loam enriched with clean leaf-mould, and with the pots well drained as a protection against stagnant moisture. They grow fast and require rather liberal pot-room, but it is good practice for the amateur always to keep plants in the smallest pots consistent with healthy growth and free development, for the commonest mistake of beginners is to provide more pot-room than the roots can fill in a reasonable space of time, this resulting in souring of the soil and an arrest of growth altogether. They must be shifted on as necessary, and robust kinds must have larger pots than weak kinds, while the soil must always be rather light and good without any animal manure. A little stopping and training may be necessary in certain cases, but the less the better, free natural growth being best for displaying the real beauties of the plants. Every sort will flower at its own season, unless the management is such as to thwart its purpose. When grown in a common greenhouse, winter flowers are not to be looked for; but with a temperature of fifty to sixty degrees through the winter, the stove begonias will give a fine crop of winter flowers; and as young free-growing plants always flower best, a fresh stock should be raised every year, and old plants should be destroyed.

Balsam

THE BALSAM, Impatiens balsamin

IN some of the books the plant is catalogued as Balsamina hortensis, but as a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, the amateur gardener need not be troubled about the relative claims of the respective designations. The garden balsam is a tender annual of rapid growth, with an extremely succulent stem, ample full green leafage, and showy flowers of various shades of white, red, rose, and crimson. The generic name Impatiens is explained by the behaviour of the plant when the seeds are ripe, for, on the slightest touch, the seed-pods burst, and the seeds are scattered; and this impatience of the plant may occasion to the cultivator considerable loss. But there is a way out of every difficulty, and the only real difficulty is to know the way. In this case it consists in removing the pods when they are nearly ripe, and placing them on a cloth or newspaper, or in a bell-glass placed mouth upwards, to ripen; then, as they arrive at perfection, the seeds will be shed, and none will be lost, and if the plants were good, the seed will pay for the trouble of saving.

It is a very strange thing, and hardly to be believed, that there is not to be found in any systematic treatise on gardening a really good code of balsam culture. In plain truth, the books are all wrong upon the subject, and as the opportunity is now offered to put them right, we propose to do so. Let it be understood, then, to begin with, that the right way occasions less trouble than the wrong way, and the result is a free development of healthy leafage and splendid flowers. The essence of the proceeding consists in growing the plant generously and somewhat rapidly from the first, and guarding it against any possible check. Suppose we desire to have a fine bed of balsams. We secure the very best seed, and sow it in light rich soil, in pans or boxes, in the month of April. These pans or boxes should be placed on the sunny shelf of a greenhouse, or in a warm corner of a pit, and be kept moderately watered. The plants will soon appear, and as soon as they have about three rough leaves, they should be pricked out, three or four inches apart, in other boxes, in light rich soil; or be potted separately in thumb-pots, and be again nursed in the warm pit or greenhouse, where they should have plenty of air, and never suffer in the least through lack of water. If they grow fast, and the weather is too cold to permit of planting them out, give them a shift into 60 size (three-inch) pots before they become pot-bound, for, as remarked above, there must be no check whatever. When the weather is warm and dull, say about the first or second week in June, plant them out in a sunny position, in rich deep soil. We have put them at two feet apart, and they have met long before the season was over; but, for a general rule, perhaps one foot distance may suffice. Give them plenty of water in dry weather, and that is all you need do to them.

Avens

AVENS, Geum coccineu

AMONGST the many pleasures a townsman may look for when rambling through a country village, the discovery of exquisitely beautiful flowers in the gardens of humble cottagers may be reckoned as of some account. You have, perhaps, been revelling for years amidst bedding plants and stately trees, and other fashionable and genteel items of a proper garden. But you have for a season quitted these rural scenes to find rest in things rustic, and in an idle mood you lean upon a fence and look over. Stars and planets ! What a blaze of flowers of sorts unseen till now has this humble horticulturist accumulated! Here are masses of colour that compel one's lip to curl with contempt for all ordinary bedding, and combinations and features that to the unaccustomed eye, well rested from the wear and tear of town, appear to over-pass the reach of art, and often, of course, are the result of some happy accident. But there are cultivated amateurs who appreciate such things and form collections, and find therein delights that are certainly different and doubtless higher in tone than a mere following the fashion would afford, unless, indeed, it became the fashion to render the garden truly representative of the infinite variety and beauty of the vegetation of the world. The subject before us illustrates the case. You may find the scarlet avens and perhaps two or three sorts of potentillas in the country garden, and you may, again, find them in the garden of the eclectic collector; but in the garden "of the period," where carpet colouring, and evergreen clipped into round balls, are prominent features, such things are utterly unknown.

The earth is plentifully furnished with beautiful plants, and it is a matter both for surprise and thankfulness that an immense proportion of the happy throng may be grown to perfection in our gardens. The species of geum that have been introduced to this country as hardy plants, adapted for the open rockery and border, number over thirty, and they are natives variously of North America, Chili, Kamtschatka, Russia, Volhinia, the Alps, the Pyrenees, the Carpathians, and the hills of Greece. That very few of them are now to be found is no fault of the plants, for if they were all re-introduced and displayed with judgment, they would be found as beautiful as ever, and as fully as ever entitled to reproach men for their perversity in neglecting the simplest and cheapest and most lasting and ever-changing of all garden pleasures.

Aster

THE ASTER, Callistemma hortensi

THIS charming flower, which ranks with the balsam in importance as an annual, has no history, and is nothing unless well grown; therefore the best employment of the space at our command will be to frame a compact essay on the cultivation of the aster in first-rate style, with a view to the production of flowers good enough for exhibition.

It is impossible to grow good asters in a poor soil, and the water supply should be constant and plentiful. If grown in the same bed every year, it should be regularly well dug and tolerably manured, as if intended for a crop of peas or cauliflowers. But finer flowers may be secured by growing them every year in fresh soil that has not carried asters before, or at least only once in seven years or so.

Arum Lil

THE ARUM LIL

THIS plant is usually labelled Calla AEthiopica, and there is no impropriety in classing it as a calla; on the contrary, it is well to embrace any and every opportunity of protesting against the vicious use of commemorative names that is now becoming common with botanists who are too idle to diagnose, while over busy in "dedications". But no matter: "a rose by any other name will smell as sweet," and the arum lily is a glorious plant that should be grown wherever suitable accommodation can be provided for it. Being an arum, it is not a lily; but there is no lily, however beautiful, that can be said to surpass it in elegance of form or in the purity of its ivory-white chalice, folded in curves that seem to mock the genius of the greatest of artists.

There is not in the world a more accommodating plant than this, provided solely that it be protected from frost in winter. A hardy plant it is not, and many a one has lived through two or three mild winters on the margin of a pond or stream, only to perish and leave no trace of its existence when a sharp winter has come and put it to the proof of extreme endurance. The arum lily is a greenhouse plant, half-aquatic in habit, yet bearing to be dried up in summer, as though water were the last of its necessities. But the drying-up is not good practice, for it results in the production of small flowers; whereas, if the plant be kept moist all the summer through, it will in spring produce large flowers, and a greater number of them than is possible in the case of plants that are forgotten, as many are from the moment they have ceased to be attractive.

Amethyst Eryngo

AMETHYST ERYNGO, Eryngium amethystinu

SEASIDE botanists are well acquainted with the curious spiny leaves of the sea-holly, which attract no less by their glaucous colour than their challenge of war. When in flower the plant has a fine, daring sort of beauty, and may remind one of the story of the thistle that the invading Dane trod upon, when, by reason of his cry of pain, the plant was promoted to the banner of Scotland. This seaholly might be called a thistle, but, as a matter of fact, it is, an umbelliferous plant, where as the thistle is a true composite. The alliance of the eryngo is with the hemlocks, that of the thistle with the asters: and so an eryngo is not a thistle, but agrees in the circumstance of being armed for defence against all ordinary foes.

All the eryngos, our own seaside friend in particular, may be turned to account by drying them for winter decorations, their tough texture and very distinctive forms favouring this use of them. Whether the roots of the garden eryngos are of any economic value we cannot say; but we call to mind that the bitter roots of the British wilding have enjoyed some fame as a valuable tonic, and from the most ancient times have been made into a sweetmeat with the aid of sugar. Once upon a time the town of Colchester presented royalty with a delicate sample of candied sea-holly roots, and the sale of the article thereupon increased greatly, while, as a matter of course, many wonderful cures were effected by the confection.

American Cowslip

AMERICAN COWSLIP, Dodecatheon Meadi

AN American cowslip ought to be like a cowslip, but this flower is more like that of a potato. The comparison cannot degrade the flower, because the flowers of many sorts of potatoes are beautiful in the most proper sense of the term. A very choice Alpine known as Ramondia Pyrenaica comes nearer to the likeness of a potato than the Dodecatheon before us, but it is far removed botanically, and the resemblance is but superficial. But an American cowslip ought also to be like a lettuce, for as much is implied in the generic name; but the resemblance of the leaves to those of a lettuce is less apparent than that of the flowers to those of a potato. It is a primulaceous plant, and therefore comes near to the cowslip in affinities, as it does also in cultural requirements--at least in some degree. It is more of a woodland plant than the cowslip, loving shade and a peaty or leafy soil; but it is not particular, and if once comfortably located will do better left alone than with any possible attentions.

The plant is a native of Virginia and other parts of North America, whence, according to Philip Miller, it was sent by Mr. Banister to Dr. Compton, Bishop of London, in whose garden at Fulham Miller saw it growing in the year 1709. Linnaeus adopted for it a generic name from Pliny, and a specific name in honour of Dr. Mead, a physician of great eminence, son of the Rev. Matthew Mead, a Presbyterian divine, who was minister of Stepney during the government of Oliver Cromwell.

Alpine Wallflower

ALPINE WALLFLOWER, Cheiranthus Alpinu

IN the First Series the common wallflower is described under its generally accepted name of Cheiranthus cheiri. The plant before us bears a name which indicates its close relationship to the wallflower proper, and it is also known as Erysimum ochroleucum, which connects it with the common treacle mustard and other four-parted yellow flowering plants of like character. The true wallflower is of universal use in gardens, its sturdy growth, brilliant colours, and fresh spicy fragrance insuring for it general acceptance as one of the most delightful products of spring. The so-called Alpine wallflowers are not of universal use; but, on the other hand, they have some special claims on our regard as valuable adornments of the rockery and the choice border.

The Alpine wallflower (E. ochroleucum) forms a neat leafy bush, nine to twelve inches high, adorned in spring with a fine head of sulphur or pale lemon-coloured flowers. Like the garden wallflower, it is well adapted for planting on walls and ruins, but unlike the more fragrant plant, it is not adapted for the common border, by reason of its susceptibility to winter damp. It is as hardy as any plant of its class, and therefore frost will but rarely harm it, provided it is on a dry soil, and has not become over-luxuriant through good living. It is a point of great importance for the amateur grower of Alpines to bear in mind that the promotion of a free succulent growth is altogether undersirable in the case of all such plants; many of them require an abundance of moisture in their growing season, but a rich soil and a position removed from the free atmosphere and the full play of the daylight are, generally speaking, directly injurious, both as rendering the plants less hardy than is their nature, and also less disposed to flower freely. We often have to recommend a deep nourishing loam or peat for Alpine plants, but it may be observed that we never recommend the use of stimulating manures or soils that are naturally damp and heavy. The mountain flora comprises plants that vary immensely in affinities and requirements; some are at home on the dry, starving rocky bluff, where there is scarcely a particle of such stuff as we call "mould;" others haunt the crowded bog, where the plants form a dense wet mat, and subsist on the black earth that results from the ever-accumulating decay of those that have lived their season or have been stifled by the strong usurpers. But a large proportion of the most beautiful Alpine plants have their roots in deep beds of decayed stone, containing always some amount of moisture, but often in the summer being saturated with water, owing to the melting of ice and snow on the peaks above them. Those beauties that are so much prized in our gardens will generally thrive on the rockery where the soil consists of sandy loam, with some proportion of calcareous matter, and the drainage is sufficiently perfect to insure that there shall be no lodgment of water in the winter season. As for the Erysimums, a poor soil and full exposure are the chief requisites.

Almond

ALMOND, Amygdalus communi

THE almond is an emblem of haste, for its flowers appear before the leaves are ready. In the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah we read: "The word of the Lord came unto me, saying, Jeremiah, what seest thou? And I said, I see a rod of an almond tree. Then said the Lord unto me, Thou hast well seen: for I will hasten my word to perform it". Allusions to the almond tree occur in other places in the Divine record. The presents sent by Israel to Joseph, in the second journey into Egypt, when Benjamin was taken, included "a little balm, and a little honey, spices, and myrrh, nuts, and almonds". The almond was one of the subjects selected for the decoration of the golden candlestick of beaten work that was to be employed in the tabernacle and the symbol obtained special significance when the rod of Aaron, in the tabernacle of witness, brought forth buds, and bloomed blossoms, and yielded almonds. These passages testify to the importance of the tree in Palestine, of which it is a native; and they suggest an inheritance of ideas from the further East, for the almond has a considerable range in Arabia and Persia. To be valued for its fruit by nomads little given to cultivation was a matter of necessity. But we are taken into the region of true poetry when it is perceived that the acceptance of the almond as a symbol under Divine sanction turns upon its flowering first amongst all the trees of the wood, and in such haste that it cannot wait to appear in its proper garments. To the Oriental mind, sensitive to imagery, and leaning to the ideal in the observation of nature, such simple facts are pregnant with deeper meanings than Western thought is capable of grasping without an effort.

But in these less fanciful lands the almond does not escape such honours as poets can bestow. Spenser crowns the great Arthur with the bloom of the immortal tree by means of a splendid figure:-

Ageratum

THE AGERATUM, Ageratum Mexicanu

AS every question has two sides, so the question whether the massing of plants in the flower--e.g., the "bedding system"--is worthy of respect as a feature in garden art, has not only two but many sides. There has been much said against it, and much that is true. Its advocates have not lacked argument and demonstration in its favour. One thing may be said in its defence, while the figure of the ageratum is before us, and it is that the bedding system has brought into repute many plants that were unknown until it was discovered that they were adapted for massing, and while it has accomplished thus much, it has also improved them for the purpose. Ageratum Mexicanum, as figured in Sweet's "Flowr Garden," 1823 (t. 89), is a poor thing as compared with the varieties that have been raised within the past few years for bedding purposes; and, indeed, as they say of an actor who succeeds perfectly that he has "created" the part, so we may say that the bedding system created the ageratum. Sweet's figure represents a long-legged weedy herb, with small indecisive heads of flowers of a pale blue colour. It was raised from seeds obtained from Mexico by Mr. Bullock, and was first grown by Mr. Tate, nurseryman of Sloane Street, more than half a century ago. Now we have varieties of several shades of colour--some of a fine light azure blue, others silvery-grey, lavender-grey, and white, the plants also varying in height, some of them being so dwarf as to form moss-like tufts upon the ground. A collection of the best would comprise the Queen, silver-grey; Swanley Blue, light clear blue; Cupid, very dwarfed, the flowers blue; and Malvern Beauty, the most dwarfed of all, the heads of the flowers large, and of a beautiful blue colour. The last-named is dwarf enough for carpet bedding, and is associated with the most dwarfed of the blue lobelias. The demand, during a quarter of a century or more, for material adapted for bedding, has proved of such "creative" power that a very considerable proportion of our ornamental garden plants have been remodelled, and we may even say beautified by the hybridist for the purpose.

As is usual in such cases, several species have been employed. Amongst the garden varieties may be noted more or less of the features of Ageratum caeruleum, which has sky-blue flowers; A. conyzoides, which has greyish-blue flowers; A. Mexicanum, lavender; and A. striatum. With the exception of the Mexican plant, which is tender, all of them are hardy annuals, and yet it is customary to treat them as tender perennials, and they answer very well to such treatment. However, as in most seed catalogues two or three sorts are entered, it is an easy matter to obtain the seeds; and to sow them in the month of March on a sunny border is sufficient to insure in the course of the summer useful clumps of flowering plants.

African Lily

AFRICAN LILY, Agapanthus umbellatu

NOTHING that the great African continent has given us in the way of flowers can surpass in value the glorious old African lily, which is not a lily, but an amaryllis, and is none the worse for that. From Africa we have the magnificent terrestrial orchids called disas, any number of heaths and pelargoniums, not a few of the finest palms, and the hard-leaved cycads. But for use-fulness, the agapanthus stands alone; and if we are called upon to find a companion for it, the Vallota purpurea shall have the preference over all other African plants; and this also, although called "Scarborough Lily," is, strictly speaking, an amaryllis. The agapanthus, or African lily, has been classed as a crinum, as a hyacinth, as a polyanthus, and a tulbaghia; its modern name dates from the publication of Aiton's "Hortus Kewensis," wherein, on the authority of L'Heritier, it is entered by the name now universally recognised. It was cultivated in the Royal Gardens at Hampton Court in 1692, therefore it is no novelty; and yet of its history there is not much to be said.

This fine plant is commonly and advantageously regarded as requiring protection in winter, and is, therefore, grown in pots and tubs. It is, however, quite hardy in the southern counties, and in London survives an ordinary winter in the open border, where, if spared for a few years the trial of a severe and prolonged frost, it increases to a large mass, and flowers freely in the month of September. The winter of 1885-6, the longest we have known, though certainly not the severest, affected out-door plants at Kew so slightly, that when, in the month of April, the spring renewed the growth of vegetation, they were found to be fresh and green, and scarcely touched by the winter frost. In the Botanical Gardens of Manchester some large clumps have stood out in borders for several years, with but little harm, from which they have soon recovered. Some very fine clumps that we had in the open border, on heavy land, in a northern suburb of London, were so much injured by the keen frost that occurred in the month of March, 1880, that it was not until the end of May that they presented above ground a new growth of green leaves from the roots; and in that year they did not flower, having enough to do to accomplish their re-establishment.

Achimenes

THE ACHIMENES, Achimenes longiflor

ACHIMENES, Gloxinia, and Gesneria are three floral graces-gifts of the new world to the old, related as a sisterhood of beauty, and requiring almost identical conditions of life to insure their health and to win their smiles. The plant before us is singularly beautiful, and the easiest of the genus for the amateur to cultivate, as a warm greenhouse temperature suffices for it, whereas most other species of achimenes require the heat of the stove. There are several varieties of longiflora, but it will suffice to take not of two only-the violet-flowered from now figured, and the white, which is named alba. These are fine pot-plants, and those who succeed in cultivating them may be advised to secure also Gloxinia tubiflora, which is quite a companion plant, with long-tubed white flowers, which are carried on a long stem far above the rest of the achimenes and gloxinias.

The routine culture of achimenes admits of brief description without omission of any matter of importance. They are of annual growth, and are renewed as required by planting the dormant tubers in pots or pans. The usual time to commence the cultivation is the month of January, but successive supplies should be started later where a continuous display of the flowers is required. The tubers may be put into pans or baskets in a mixture of peat or silky loam, leaf-mould, and sharp sand. They should be planted thickly-say two or three inches apart. Very little water should be given until they are growing freely, and for the first few days none at all. When put into baskets a lining of moss must be provided to keep the soil together, and this should consist for the most part of fibrous peat or loam, which will of itself hold together like moss. A moist heat is required to start the tubers-say 65 degree by night and 70 degree by day. Where this cannot be commanded in January a warm greenhouse will suffice, provided the first batch is put into the pans in the month of March, as then the sun-heat is rapidly advancing, and the warmest part of the house may be allotted to them. At all times the atmosphere in which achimenes are grown should be warm and moist, and hence it is customary in many gardens to grow these and gloxinias in an orchid house. As regards water, they must have plenty when in full growth, and, from the time when the bloom buds appear, weak liquid manure should be given them until the flowering is over. Then they must be gradually dried off, and when the leaves have withered, the pots or pans should be stored away with the roots in them undisturbed, and must be kept dry, and in a temperature of 45 degree to 50 degree until the time returns to start them into growth again. Large specimens carefully trained make useful subjects for the exhibition table, as also for the conservatory. They require constant care, and especially careful handling, to insure a complete contour, an abundant bloom, and a dense and healthy leafage.

Abyssinian Primrose

ABYSSINIAN PRIMROSE, Primula verticillat

THIS interesting plant reminds one of the handsome Japan primrose (Primula Japonica), by the manner in which the flowers are produced in a series of whorls; but the snowy primrose (P. nivalis) has the like habit, and some others indicate that a very slight change of conditions would induce them to present their flowers in a spiral arrangement, instead of a simple umbel. The Abyssinian primrose was first received in this country in the year 1825, under the name of P. involucrata, and was first figured in the Botanical Magazine in the year 1828, under t. 2842. In its original form it was a somewhat poor plant, with small flowers borne on long pedicels amidst a profusion of floral bracts and with conspicuous green calyces. Its native country was the Arabian province of Yemen, on the margins of rivulets on Kurma, a calcareous mountain in north latitude fourteen and a half degrees, that is, towards the southern extremity of Arabia Felix. A much improved form--considered from the floricultural point of view--was introduced by Messrs. Veitch and Son, of Chelsea, in the year 1872; this first flowered on the rockery at Kew in the year 1873, and was figured by Sir J. D. Hooker in the work cited above, under t. 6042. This later introduction is called Primula verticillata, var. sinensis. It is of robust habit, producing a whorl of oblong leaves, from the centre of which springs a stout flower-stem, bearing one, two, or three distinct whorls of flowers, which are larger, more richly coloured, and on shorter pedicels, with inconspicuous calyces, and therefore distinct from those of the earlier form, and considerably handsomer.

Collections of primulas are in request for rockeries, and although a few of the sorts need special and peculiar treatment, a considerable proportion of the most useful species readily conform to one simple system of cultivation. The vigorous-growing kinds require a deep sandy soil, always moist, and some amount of shade from the midday sun in the heat of summer. There is no primrose known to our gardens that can with impunity endure drought as a sempervivum or sedum can; all primroses suffer if much roasted by sunshine, and a shallow, poor soil will but rarely afford any of them a suitable root-hold. On the other hand, most of the diminutive species bear full exposure without harm, provided their roots have the advantage of a deep, moist bed. It is advisable, when collections are planted on a rockery, to associate them in groups as nearly as possible, so as to subject them to uniform treatment, and thus insure regular attention. When dotted about in places distant from each other, a few may be forgotten at times when extra attention is required. During dry hot weather water should be freely bestowed upon them, and this is more effectually accomplished when they are planted in groups than when they are distributed over a considerable space as isolated plants.

Abutilon

THE ABUTILON, Abutilon striatu

IT never rains but it pours" may be a suitable text for a discourse on the abutilon. Only the other day--say the day before yesterday--somebody discovered that the abutilon might by careful cross-breeding be made to yield a vast variety of characters and colours. Presto ! Now there are dozens of new names and varieties, and they constitute attractive and interesting collections of decorative plants for festive dressings as well as for the quiet conservatory.

But as the florists multiplied the varieties they forgot the native inborn elegance of the plant, and were content to grow their named varieties in the form of diminutive bushes, certainly very pretty, but affording no idea of the proper splendour of the plant. Let us, the, turn from the new to the old fashion. The turn takes us into a snug conservatory, where the plants are allowed to show a little of the negligence of nature "wild and wide." Here the abutilon appears as a luxurious vine, with elegant leaves divided into pointed lobes, and bearing curious bell-like flowers of a dull orange-colour, and curiously striped. It is singular that a South American tree should obtain an Eastern name, for abutilon is Arabic for mallow, and this plant is of the mallow tribe. It is the striped mallow vine of the Rio Negro and the Organ Mountains.