July 28, 1881. ] 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
81 
rently they come very true to their variety, as many of them are 
exactly similar in colour to each other, also to named sorts growing 
in the borders. When seed is required flowers which are fading 
should not be cut off, but the capsule left to produce seed, which 
when ripened should be gathered and sown at once in drills 6 inches 
apart. Several of our plants flowered the second year after sow¬ 
ing, they were then lifted and transplanted 6 inches apart in beds 
where they were required to flower. Autumn is by far the best 
time to transplant. If at all practicable masses are the best, as 
the colours harmonise perfectly though mixed.—R. P. B. 
MR. SHIRLEY HIBBERD'S LECTURE ON THE 
CARNATION. 
(Continued from page. Go.) 
An exhibition does not reveal to us all the glories of the Carna¬ 
tion family, but of certain classes of flowers that have been trained, 
as we may say, to certain standards of quality. I have heard 
to-day a question often asked at a Carnation show—“ Why arc 
there no Pinks present?” There are two reasons for the non¬ 
admission of Pinks to this Show ; one is that they are not Carna¬ 
tions. and the other is that they do not now exist as flowers, for 
they attain perfection in the month of June and cannot be pre¬ 
sented at a July show. Although, from the botanist’s point of 
view, the Pink and Carnation are closely related, they are in the 
view of the florist separated by a wide gulf, for it is impossible to 
cross them, and consequently we cannot raise a Carnation from a 
Pink, or a Pink from a Carnation, or secure a race of flowers 
midway between them. The Carnation as a show flower is not 
allowed to sport into as many varieties as it pleases. It is, how¬ 
ever, capable of producing almost every colour except true blue. 
The shades of red appear to be proper to it, a point in which it 
agrees with the wild Pink. It is from this circumstance it takes 
its name of Carnation, the exact meaning of which is flesh-coloured. 
You will remember that in the remarkable description of the 
death of Falstaff by Dame Quickly, in Shakespeare’s Henry V., the 
touching pathos is brightened by a stroke of wit, the effect of 
which is to remind us that the brave Sir John was a notable 
coward. The Dame says, “A’ could never abide carnation ; ’twas 
a colour he never liked ; ” real fighting and flesh wounds being 
not to the liking of Falstaff and his cutpurse followers. It is 
singular that this name, which equally with Gilloflower is derived 
from the Latin, apparently furnishes the basis of another of the 
old names of the flower ; for the Carnation is the “ Coronation,” 
the chaplet flower, which Spenser describes as “ worn of para¬ 
mours,” its gay colour and spicy perfume doubtless rendering it 
a fine antidote to the proper melancholy of a lovesick swain. 
All the colours we now find in the Carnation were known to 
the old florists, and John Parkinson descants on the beauties of 
the yellow Carnation in such a manner as to suggest that the 
yellow ground Picotee was not unknown to him, although he 
gives no definite hint of its existence. The true foundations in 
floriculture laid by him were soon freely built upon, for in the 
year 167G John Rea had 3G0 sorts of Carnations ; and from this 
time the popularity of the flower appears never to have waned 
in any serious degree. 
The modern history of the flower dates from the 25th July, 1850, 
when the first proper exhibition in the south of England toek 
place in the Royal Nurseries at Slough, and the National Carna¬ 
tion and Picotee Society was formally founded. It is with un¬ 
speakable pleasure I find in the records that in the first start of 
this Society the names of Turner and Dodwell appear as the lead¬ 
ing prizetakers, both at the show just referred to and the second 
show that was held at Derby on the 7th of August in the same 
year. Thus the year 1850 was a great year in the history of 
floriculture ; and it seems scarcely possible, although it is perfectly 
true, that the two masters of the Carnation in that day are masters 
now, apparently younger and more enthusiastic, hut with an 
immensity of acquired experience to sustain their zeal and con¬ 
stancy. Their presence here to-day may be regarded as a delight¬ 
ful commentary on the declaration of Wordsworth, that “ Nature 
never did betray the heart that loved her,” and we may regard 
each of these as favoured by the Fairy Queen, who “crowns him 
with flowers and makes him all her joy.” 
It is an interesting and somewhat remarkable fact that the 
Carnation and its several relations, as Pinks, Picotees, and the 
like, endure with patience the smoke and dust of great towns. 
Mr. E. S. Dodwell has put the capabilities of the flower in this 
respect to the severest test imaginable, for he brings forth from 
year to year the most perfect blooms, taking a fair share of the 
prizes, as in the memorable year 1850 ; and his garden is favoured 
by a railway company with a perennial shower of blacks night 
and day the whole year round. Indeed, the Dianthus family 
appear to have somewhat of the same sociable temper as the 
singing birds; they appear to love the habitations of man, and 
hence the prudent botanist who wants a specimen of the true 
typical Dianthus caryophyllus will begin to hunt for it on castle 
walls, ruins, or on the roofs of old sheds and cottages. I re¬ 
member making a grand find in a hunt of this sort. Being on the 
rampage with a friend, we made discovery of a cottage roof all 
glorious with tufts of wild Pink, Houseleek, Stonecrop, Rock 
Rose, Ragged Robin, and Stitchwort, all embedded in cushions 
of golden moss, and wreathed about with garlands of Roses. We 
resolved to derive from this floral roof a grand intellectual and 
aesthetic treat, and were preparing to make sketches and draw up 
a careful catalogue of the plants. The owner of the cottage came 
out, and smiled approvingly when we told him we had found an 
Elddrado on his roof, and intended to make a picture that pos¬ 
terity would rave about, and that would turn the heads of all 
botanists, florists, painters, and dadoists ; so that probably the 
world would begin to revolve in a new way, with his huge 
chimney for its future axis. But it came on to rain, and like a 
pair of cowards we fled, promising to be on the spot next morning 
to accomplish the task that should renew humanity. And we 
were there next morniDg; but the scen& was changed. The 
worthy man was on the roof, scraping away with a hoe. He 
had cleared off all the vegetation to display the original red tiles; 
and he said, with a pride that to us was deadly, “ I thought it a 
pity that you should paint my cottage with all that rubbish on it; 
for them tiles I put on myself, for that’s my trade, and I am 
proud of it; for I’m a tiler, every inch of me.” What we lost 
individually is as nothing to what the world lost through this 
blundering vandalism. 
The mention of vandalism reminds me that I just now spoke 
of aesthetic delights. Fifty years ago the cultivators of taste in 
Germany were called aesthetics, because they sought and encou¬ 
raged the cultivation of beauty. There are now amongst us, even 
in the bright world of flowers, those who profess to be aesthetics, 
and who coolly propose that we should undo and utterly waste 
the work of centuries of floriculture, and allow Nature to assert 
herself according to the original pattern of things as on the third 
day of creation. Yes ; they dare to doom our double flowers to 
an ignominious oblivion, and they fondly hope we shall destroy our 
proper garden flowers, and plant in their place those that Nature 
cultivates so nicely in the woodlands and on the mountains. They 
really aim at destroying all our outdoor pleasures, because the 
wild flowers are far more delightful when we have to search for 
them in their own breezy haunts than they are when we bring 
them into the garden. Thus, if we lose our highly cultivated 
flowers, and lose also the peculiar and ever fresh delight of 
searching for the wildings in their native haunts, there must be 
an end of gardening altogether. To put our beautiful garden 
flowers under a ban is the work of a Caliban, whose great delight 
should be with his long nails to dig pig nuts. Let him sing in 
his empty dream of delirious joy, “ Ban, ban, ban, Caliban ; has 
a new master ; get a new man.” Caliban and his dadoistic 
friends will have their day and cease to be, and the good old 
garden flowers will continue to delight mankind and justify the 
labours of the florists. 
It is interesting to note that two great authorities give the 
florists full credit for their making of the flower that has thus 
far occupied our attention to-day. Turner, writing about 1550, 
says : “ The gardin gelouers are made so pleasaunt and swete 
with the labours and witt of man, and not by Nature.” And 
Withering, in the eighteenth century, wrote : “ The art of floricul¬ 
ture, sometimes despised with a reprehensible degree of fastidious¬ 
ness, has in this instance transformed a plant, comparatively 
obscure, into one of the most delightful charms which the lap of 
Flora contains.” 
CLERODENDRON BALFOURIANUM. 
HAVING grown the above as small bushy plants iu 5 and G-inch 
pots for some years past, I can safely recommend it as being the 
most effective and useful plant for indoor furnishing that I am 
acquainted with. This is especially the case in spring and early 
summer, its natural time of flowering. Although I have found it 
to be very accommodating, I have had it in bloom continuously 
for six mouths simply by keeping the plants back in dry positions 
with a temperature of about 50°. The effect produced by a num¬ 
ber of these in a mixed collection of plants is very telling and 
brilliant, and I venture to predict that when its merits in this small 
form become better known it will be grown very extensively. 
Its culture is easy, the chief point requiring attention being 
peisistent stopping while growing, even from the cutting stage. 
A shallow pit I have found to be the best place to grow them in, 
where they can have plenty of light and be near the glass. Good 
