THE FLORIST. \5<J 



method of hybridising, fresh varieties are still produced, more and 

 more developing those qualities in the same direction, and pointing 

 to a yet invisible standard of what, if ever reached, would be the 

 perfection of that particular species. 



2. Therefore it follows, that if florists do not unwisely depart 

 from the standard indicated in nature, their requirements are not 

 their own, and they are not answerable for any alleged consequences 

 of their art. It is not they who put restrictions on the admirers 

 of natural beauties, if any such restrictions exist (which, however, 

 they do not), but not even for the appearance of them are they 

 answerable. The work of the florist is simply to follow whither 

 nature leads him, selecting always that track in which there is the 

 greatest promise of success ; and on his judgment in never departing 

 from this, and in using the best means for securing the accomplish- 

 ment of his desires, depends the correctness of his practical science. 



And though mistakes have, of course, been made, and will be 

 made again, in the endeavours after advancement in each particular 

 object of our culture, yet these still become fewer as progress is 

 made in developing the natural powers and characteristic excellences 

 of the plant, whereby the philosophy of its improvement is seen, 

 and we do not work in the dark ; because there is a system of such 

 development in nature, and a definite point of perfection, the con- 

 stant approach to which constitutes improvement in each species. 

 And as this is effected by crossing the seed of those varieties which 

 have shewn respectively the greatest advances in some particular 

 quality, it is plain there is a substantial truth in the phrase common 

 among florists, " a high-bred flower." 



3. As to the third and last assumption, namely the hardship of 

 being deprived of the power of admiring a wild Pansy, and so of 

 losing half the pleasure designed by the Creator, — the matter is not 

 quite fairly stated. I do not think florists generally despise wild 

 flowers in their proper place ; with myself I know the very reverse 

 is the fact. I take much more pleasure in them now than I did 

 before I paid attention to their cultivated varieties. And further, 

 I think it will be found, that a wild Pansy will be tolerated, and 

 even cherished, by a florist, where a bad cultivated one, though much 

 in advance of it in respect of properties, would be consigned with 

 disgust to the pit as a weed. 



Yet it is frankly to be admitted, that an untutored eye may de- 

 light in a cultivated specimen, which to the more deeply versed, and 

 therefore fastidious, taste of a connoisseur, would convey unqualified 

 distaste. But that is no more an argument that a person must sacri- 

 fice his pleasure in flowers, by learning to cultivate them, than it is 

 an argument against learning the art of painting, lest the student 

 should lose his admiration of the signs in the streets ; or the art of 

 music, lest he should cease to be pleased with the organ of an itine- 

 rant. The same argument indeed is equally available, and has been 

 often used, against all civilisation generally, and every particular part 

 of it. The fact is, that we are so constituted, that our onward pro- 

 gress in every thing must be clogged with such accompaniments ; and 



