243 



was liable to be met by the objection, " You have, then, an ulterior 

 object." This has been avoided : the question has been discussed 

 on its own merits, and is decided. The occupation of the vacant site 

 has therefore become a subject fairly open to consideration. 



It will immediately occur to those who, from motives of philan- 

 thropy, have uniformly advocated tlie retaining of open spaces, or, as it 

 were, breathing-holes, here and there throughout the metropolis, that 

 another of these is now jeopardized. Such a vast area will not long 

 remain unappropriated. The idea which I have formed on the subject, 

 and which I am glad to find meets with general approbation amongst 

 those to whom I have mentioned it, is to construct, on the site of the 

 Augean stable, which a strength greater than that of Hercules is 

 on the eve of cleansing, a geogi-aphical, perennial, glazed garden, in 

 which shall be exhibited, in a growing state, in all their native luxu- 

 riance and beauty, the vegetable productions of the entire world. I 

 introduce the term 'perennial' advisedly. The term 'winter' garden, 

 so generally employed, seems to imply that it is designed to be a 

 winter resort exclusively. Such an idea is erroneous, the term simply 

 meaning that such a garden is to be enjoyed in winter as well as in 

 summer: no one ever thought of restricting the use of winter gardens 

 to the season whence their name is derived. Those citizens of Lon- 

 don who have visited the great conservatories at Kew, Regent's Park, 

 Sion House, &c., must be fully aware of the advantages of having such 

 a building in the centre of the metropolis. These may be briefly enu- 

 merated under six heads: 1st, health; 2nd, comfort; 3rd, safety; 

 4th, instruction ; 5th, amusement ; 6th, accessibility. 



1st. Health. — There is no question whatever that the health of Lon- 

 doners suffers from* continually and habitually staying indoors. No 

 one, not even nursemaids and children, can go out to enjoy air, which, 

 in our crowded streets, impregnated abundantly with particles of soot 

 and dust, and with the fumes of beer, gin, and tobacco, is not to be 

 enjoyed. The student, the clerk, the schoolboy, the wife, the child, 

 cannot seek the streets as a temporary relaxation or change — cannot 

 expect to find in them even a momentary invigoration ; whereas a 

 glazed garden would supply the desideratum, oxygen. That pabulum 

 of animal life is abundantly exhaled by plants during the day ; and 

 not only would the invigorating effects be felt within, but they jvould 

 extend, though in a less degree, all around. The consumption of 

 oxygen, and its consequent abstraction from atmospheric air, is the 

 main cause of that oppressive feeling which so continually causes 

 fainting, sickness, and all kinds of illness in omnibuses, theatres, and 



