NOTES ON SOUTHERN HORTICULTURE. 



occupy, and to the majority of whom Homer, or Horace, would be as intelligible as the 

 language of Si-San, or Sadi the Persian. It is only by associating the names of plants 

 with some name we have heard before, that any of us can make much progress in 

 the commencement of our career. I can only answer for myself, that I should never have 

 learned j4nagallis, but for connecting it with " hang the gallows," nor Camellia without 

 " Amelia." At any rate, it is a subject which would well repay the attention of horticul- 

 tural societies, as, were the names of plants in the common language, the knowledge, and 

 consequently the love and cultivation of plants, would much increase. 



These, and kindred subjects, are well worthj-- the attention of gardeners. They tend to 

 the advancement of their profession, — as does every thing which tends to increase their al- 

 ready extensive intelligence. The success of a Paxton — Joseph Paxton, gardener — in 

 beating in the field of competition, the whole host of British architects engaged in design- 

 ing the building for the " Exhibition of the Industry of all Nations," does more towards 

 raising gardeners and gardening to their proper position, than all the talk about low wages 

 would do in a century. Let not American gardeners despair. Their profession is yet des- 

 tined to be held in higher estimation here, than it ever has been in anj^ nation in the Avorld. 

 The time will assuredly come, when every large citj'^in the Union will vie with each other 

 in the spleiidor ahd magnificence oi their public gardens, as compared to which, the majo- 

 rity of gardens in England will be children's play grounds. Thomas Meehan, 



Gardener to A. M. Eastwick, Bartram Bot. Garden, Philadelphia. 



RANDOM NOTES ON SOUTHERN HORTICULTURE. 



BY SYLVANUS, NEW-ORLEANS. 



I was taking a stroll the other morning among the old faishioned gardens of New-Or- 

 leans, which are just beginning to be inviting, after the gloomy and cheerless winter, when 

 it occurred to me that a few random notes on the subject of what does or does not, grow 

 in this region, might be acceptable to your columns. I plucked a Chromatella rose, such 

 in size and color as would make your heart glow to look on, and sauntered home to fulfill 

 my intention. It was near the first of March, and — do not feel envious — green peas were 

 ready for the table; as I passed a coffee-house, the fragrant scent of fresh mint, as some 

 dry citizen was imbibing a julep, floated invitingly into the street, and — restrain j'our 

 feelings — a bowl of fresh strawberries, the very first of the season, had that morning been 

 announced as having been deposited in the sanctum of some lucky editor. The next day 

 "came a frost, a killing frost — pea blossoms wilted, strawberries soured, and mint-juleps 

 gave way to hot toddies." But this lasted only a few days. The weather has cleared up; 

 peach and plum trees are in full blossom, the forest has assumed its liverj'- of green, and 

 the whole air is fragrant v/ith odours. Spring is here at last, but I do not find that the 

 charms of nature are so highly appreciated here as in the colder north. At least, so much 

 attention is not paid to horticulture as a science. The south is generally considered as the land 

 of flowers, and nature has done her best to make it so, but as yet, in this quarter, at least, 

 but little attention is paid to gardening, beyond laying out an acre or two on plantations, 

 and in the suburbs of the city, in a few of the more common fruits and flowers that are indi- 

 genous to the soil, or have been long introduced. Yet along the coast of the Mississippi, 

 ty miles above and below New-Orleans, might be grown all the most beautiful trees 

 shrubs of the tropics, with but slight, or even no protection whatever. 



