every effort to gather from all parts of the world plants living 

 in the most diverse climates, on the most diverse soils, and 

 amid the most diverse circumstances, and tries to grow them 

 all together in the same small plot of ground which he calls 

 his garden, under the same climate (if we dare to call the 

 meteorological conditions which obtain in England by such an 

 honourable name as climate), under conditions which we can 

 vary very little, and in soil which at best we can only super- 

 ficially alter by adding or taking away a barrowful of thi=c or 

 that. This is at least what I try to do with the Iris. There are 

 some two hundred or so kinds of Iris growing under the most 

 diverse circumstances, scattered over the temperate zone of the 

 old world and the new ; and I am making every effort to get 

 every one of these two hundred to live huddled together in a 

 little spot in Cambridgeshire. Now, whatever theoretical view 

 we may take as to how the several different kinds or species of 

 plants first came into existence, there can be no doubt that each 

 kind thrives and Tnajntamg its existence because it is more or 

 less suited to the particular conditions amid which we find it 

 living in a wild state. The glorious diversity of plant life is a 

 token of Nature's care to adapt the individual plants to the 

 diversity of conditions which obtains on the globe. But the 

 plants which Nature has thus put asunder, in order that each 

 might avail itself of special conditions, the impious gardener, 

 flying in the face of Providence, tries to sweep together into 

 a common prison, where the conditions for each are all alike, 

 and for the majority of these distinctly bad. Is it to be 

 wondered, then, that floral treasures, collected from afar with 

 great trouble and expense, pine in their exile for the air and 

 the soil of their native home, and after throwing out a feeble 

 bloom, or not even that, faint, fade away, and are no more ? 



We gardeners may, however, lessen our impiety and gain a 

 corresponding reward in the shape of success if, as far as lies 

 in our power, we strive to surround our favourites with the 

 features of the home from which they have been taken. It is, 

 I take it, the duty of a gardener, who desires to grow in his 

 garden a plant brought from afar, to learn as much as he can 

 of its habits and surroundings in its native home, and to imitate 

 these as far as he can. This leading, let me warn you, is not 

 always a true one. Plants have their misfortunes as men have. 



