FLOWERS. 
1870. ] 
55 
This kind of gardening I am very desirous of seeing .extended, because I am 
quite sure a vast amount of real enjoyment is^to be derived from it, and by just 
that class of plant-lovers whose garden-ground does not give them sufficient space 
to erect plant-houses, or whose means will not permit them to indulge in such a 
luxury—and a collection of beautiful plants, be it ever so small, is undoubtedly 
a luxury of the highest degree to persons of refined taste. 
Having strayed, however, somewhat from my Slippers, I must return to offer 
a few concluding remarks, before commencing a description of those at present 
in cultivation. After the plants are established, and the season advances, be sure 
they do not suffer from want of water. Take the sashes off the frame during the 
nights to allow them the full benefit of the dews, which all plants enjoy so much, 
and give them an occasional light syringing to prevent them from being colonized 
by red-spiders—remarkably enterprising emigrants, who are always on the look¬ 
out to gain a new settlement where a rich pasturage may be found. As Autumn ap¬ 
proaches, and when the floral beauties of the Cypripediums}idi,iQ passed away,and the 
leaves give evidence that their mission is over, water must be gradually withheld, 
but never so far as to allow the soil to get dry. During Winter, if the frost is 
very severe, the soil may be covered with a layer some few inches in thickness of 
ashes, cocoa-nut refuse, or any such material, to prevent its penetrating to the roots; 
but be careful not to keep it there sufficiently long to draw the plants up, and 
'Cause them to have long, weak stems. 
I shall next proceed to give a short description of each species, at the same 
time noting any pecuharities of its culture.—B. S. Williams, Victoria Nursery^ 
Holloway. 
FLOWERS.^ 
Consider the Lilies of the field . . . . 
ARRAYED LIKE 
. EVEN Solomon, in all his glory, was not 
one of THESE.” 
Q'YjT^ITH what emotion glows tho inmost 
quH soul 
In contemplation of the mighty power 
Of those twin-sister children of the 
mind. 
Painting and Poetry, this on the page. 
That on the canvas, tracing wondrous scenes 
Of human life and ISTatm-e’s beauteousness. 
Subservient both to Genius, within bounds 
Which even Genius may not overleap ! 
The linmer’s pencil and the poet’s pen 
Alike are impotent to designate 
The loveliness of flowers, those “ stars of 
eaidh,” 
That sparkle on her ever-joyous bosom. 
Like jewels in the girdle of a queen. 
Yet who but feels their beauty, whether it be 
. Of fonn or coloim, odour exquisite, 
Or infinite variety ? While some 
Uprear their lofty heads in gaudy pride. 
As if self-conscious of their glowing charms, 
Others, meek emblems of humility. 
Scarce rise above the ground whereon they 
grow, 
To woo the matin sun. The Violet thus 
Blooms unassuming on the grassy bank. 
Scattering her perfume wide, herself unseen. 
Close by, her sister Previrose, herald meet 
Of coming Spring, peeps mildly forth and smiles 
Upon the traveller’s journey, far admired 
By botanist and poet, and by all 
Who, with the lowliest of created things. 
As with the most exalted, love to hold 
Deep converse and commimion mystical,— 
Who worship Nalmn in her holiest fanes. 
And seek, amid the creatures of their God, 
The glorious and the beautiful. From out 
* These lines were written some years since by our valued correspondent, the late Mr. John Sladden, 
whose recent death was recorded at page 48. 
