320 



JOUBNAL OF HOKTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENEB. 



f October 17, 1866. 



memorating the miracle. Still passing onwards by ruined 

 tombs— by the Catacombs of St. Calixtus, we come in sight of 

 the tomb of Ciecilia Metella, which St. Paul must have seen 

 even as we see it, only with the marble whiter and purer. He, 

 too, must have seen the wondrous beauty of the Claudian 

 Aqueduct on its mission of mercy, bringing, as he brought, 

 waters of consolation to thousands of thirsty souls. 



I can fancy nothing more weird-like than the Catacombs, or 

 ancient dwelling-places of the dead. Far down below the light 

 of day, each visitor proceeds to exanune them with a long 

 lighted taper in his hand, the procession being led by a monk. 

 As the party winds along the subterranean passages in single 

 file, evei-y here and there you meet other -weird-like processions 

 —some of priests, some of pilgi-ims, some of gaily dressed 

 ladies, whose bright voices, telling of earth and earth's gay 

 hopes, seau out of place in these gloomy regions. I shut my 

 eyes, and the fading footfalls seemed to my imagination as 

 those of the early Christians, steaUng along in silence and fear 

 to worsh';i the God and Saviour they loved amidst the bones 

 of a theusand heathen. Every now and then we came on a 

 small square chamber, in which the little persecuted band met 

 to celebrate the Last Supper of their Lord. How fresh in their 

 memoiy was the blessed thought, that not very long before 

 St. Paiil had trodden the sacred way by which they approached 

 the Catacombs, lea-s-ing them an example of courage and con- 

 stancy to follow in his steps. The highest interest of the 

 Catacombs is now wanting, as nearly all the monuments have 

 been removed to the Gallery of Inscriptions in the Vatican ; 

 and it was with an intense feehng of relief that I passed from 

 the ghastly subterranean passages up to the clear hght and free 

 air of heaven. 



. Better than wandering in the Catacombs did I like to wander 

 up and down that noble Gallery of Inscriptions in the Vatican, 

 reading many a useful lesson of pride brought low and humility 

 raised even to the heavens. Amongst the ancient Pagan in- 

 scriptions are many curious ones — curious in gi-ammar, curious 

 in the proud disregard they paid to all the laws of metre in 

 their verses, and cui-ious in the diversity of the trades recorded. 

 There is one to a " medicus jiunentarius," or cattle doctor : 

 did he know a cure for the rinderpest, I wonder ? Another is 

 to the " topiarius," or ornamental gardener ; and from this 

 I thought that the ancients must have paid more attention to 

 their gardens than the modern Romans seem to do. But the 

 monuments on the left hand of the gallery are the most inter- 

 estmg, for they are those of the ancient Christians : and their 

 affecting expressions of peace and hope shine out in bright 

 contrast -with the Pagans' hopeless grief. How wonderfirl 

 they -were in their rude and hurried workmanship ! Probably 

 thoy were executed in fear and haste, with but little light to 

 guide the trembling hand. JIany of them had been over the 

 dust of martyi-s, yet there was no grief expressed — they all 

 speak of joy, and' peace, and Ufe. I read no high-sounding 

 praises of the poor form whose mortal agony was over. On 

 one there was the rude sculpture of a dove, and by its side 

 these simple words, " Aurelia vivas." I seemed to see the 

 inhuman Roman crowd watching the expiring breath of the 

 young maiden, thinldug that she was dead ; but it was not so 

 — " Aurelia lives." Some of the slabs had a rudely chased 

 chalice, some a vine, some the dove with the Olive branch ; 

 but one and all had the breath of Immortality about them, 

 testifying of faith in Him who is the Resurrection and the 

 Life. 



I cannot leave the Vatican without telling of its picture 

 gallery up the wcai-y flight of stairs, to which I was carried by 

 two men in a chair of state. Ai-rived at the top, I sunned 

 myself for a few minutes, while looking from the windows at 

 the view of Rome. Below lay the Piazza of St. Peter with its 

 playing fountains, and beyond was the city, and beyond the 

 city were the snow-clad glittering mountains, and above, a sky 

 of soft grey blue, with banks of fleecy snow white clouds. 



From tire world of Nature you pass to that of Art, each 

 perfect in itself. The gallery contains not more than fifty 

 pictm-es, but nearly all are good ; and yet to me there seems 

 but one — one which by its radiance dims all others. As the 

 interior of St. Peter's satisfied me, so did Raphael's " Trans- 

 figuration " satisfy me, stamping itself on my mind in colours 

 never to be effaced. Each figure speaks, telling the sacred 

 story in language unutterably forcible. On the mountain top 

 the "Lord is transfigured. Raised from the earth. His body 

 floats in the air in a flood of glory. St. John longs, yet hardly 

 dares to meet the sight. St. Peter, more hold, looks on. St. 

 James hides his face, Moses and EUas are on each side below 



the Lord. At the foot of the moimt are the nine Apostles, the 

 poor demoniac just brought before them. The faces of the 

 father, mother, and friends express an agony of faith just 

 broken — not gone, but startled. They seem to say, " We 

 believed that ye could cast the devil out : we have brought our 

 son, obedient to our faith. Wliat ! have ye no power? To 

 whom, then, can we turn for help?" One of the Apostles is 

 pointing to the mount with outstretched hand ; he seems to 

 say, " Alas ! we are powerless, but the Healer is there." This 

 picture must stand alone for ever, it has the very life of paint- 

 ing in every part. — Filix-f<emisa. 



THE FUCHSIA SPORTING SEASON. 



If your columns arc open to the recording of sports, freaks, 

 and monstrosities in the vegetable kingdom, perhaps you will 

 allow me, a subscriber of some years, a little space to state 

 what has come to my Fuchsias. 



In my garden at the present time (October 11th) may be seen 

 one flower with only two sepals, and another with five, whilst a 

 third bears eight perfect sepals, equidistant, and reminding 

 any one of an eight-sailed mill. 



These eccentricities appear on three' separate plants of dis- 

 tinct varieties, and may not be an unusual occurrence after all, 

 though they struck me as being somewhat remarkable. May 

 the dry season be the cause, the pots having been plunged in 

 the open ground? — Chas. Oldham, jRhoschlu, Wrexham. 



SUPPOSED NEW EDIBLE-FRUITED 

 PASSIFLORA. 



I H.iVE sent you a few seeds of an entirely new and unnamed 

 Passiflora, which I raised from seeds brought by a friend of 

 mine from outside Rio Kegro, on the Amazon River, South 

 .\merica. The leaf is very large, about 8 inches across, the 

 blossom white, spotted with pink, very original ; and the fruit, 

 for which I shall hereafter grow it, is by far the best of any of 

 the tribe. It is about the size of a Peach, covered with bloom, 

 and the inside is most delightful, most like a very fine Pear, 

 and as good, I think, as any fruit we have. Two judges of 

 such things, who tasted with me, express the same opinion. I 

 consider it the best hothouse fruit I ever tasted. It is a free 

 setter, I should think, as the only three flowers I have yet had 

 produce fruit which I cut about a week ago. I may add, it 

 reqirires a high stove heat, very gi'eat damp, and little air. My 

 seeds from America were sown this time last year. It is, 

 however, rather rambling. Can you suggest anything likely to- 

 make it keep more within bounds? I intend devoting a span- 

 rooted house entirely to this one, with Passiflora edulis, and 

 P. quadrangularis. A few hints would very much obUge. — J. H. 



[We have sent the seeds to the Royal Horticultural Society. 

 The best way to lessen the luxuriance of all such Passifloras, is 

 to plant them in boxes made of terra cotta, brick, or slate — say 

 2 feet square, and as much in depth. These mulched on the 

 top, or supplied with manure water, will make the plants luxu- 

 riant enough. Ringing the stems, and root-pruning, wiU also 

 prevent extra luxuriance.] 



VINES WITH ROOTS-! CONFINED WITHIN THE 

 VINERY. 



Can you give the result of planting Vines inside a house, and 

 keeping their roots there, having no outside border ? Opinions 

 vary on the advantage of this system, but experience is a more 

 certain guide. If any person can speak as to the success or 

 otherwise of this treatment from, say a ten-years trial of its 

 merits, he would by doing so confei an advantage on those who 

 contemplate erecting vineries. 



I have recently put up two houses 26 feet by 15 feet, with 

 arches in the front walls, to allow the roots of the Vines to 

 pass under, if they should ever be required to do so. These 

 arches are closed with brick, and the Vines are planted on a 

 thoroughly well-made inside border. I hope the border will 

 support the Vines for several years as it is, and for many 

 years afterwards by means of top-dressing, that there may be 

 no necessity for making an outside border. — AxiQCis. 



rWe have seen fine Grapes from inside borders, and have 

 known trees bear heavily for many years planted in the middle 



