A CORRIDOR CONSERVATORY 
THE CONSERVATORY 
Who loves a garden, loves a greenhouse too. 
Unconscious of a less propitious clime, 
There blooms exotic beauty, warm and snug, 
While the winds whistle and the snows descend. 
Cowper 
vindication, for none will question its value, or doubt that 
wherever circumstances permit—we will not say favour—the 
establishment of such a luxury, there indeed it should be 
found. The subject is a tempting one, and we shall have to practise a 
stern self-denial in order to avoid prolixity and keep to the rule observed 
hitherto of touching the more salient points, and preferring to leave much 
unsaid that would properly have place in a systematic treatise. We have 
yet to find room, within the limits fixed for this work, for many essays on 
separate subjects, and so we beg permission to commence business at once 
