424 
THE GARDENING WORLD 
March 8, 1890. 
FLOfjiCi/hTif^s]. 
The Rev. G. Jeans on the Philosophy of 
Florists’ Flowers.—VII. 
“To conclude the subject of Form or Shape, we come, 
lastly, to treat of it as subservient to an ulterior 
purpose—to set off to greater advantage some other 
means of beauty. This is a large, rather than a 
difficult branch, requiring more a copious induction of 
particulars, than the announcement and establishment 
of any fresh general principles. Whatever can be 
correctly said upon the subject, will be found to 
depend on some of those principles that have been laid 
down before. I shall not, therefore, here attempt any 
such extended induction, but confine my observations 
within as narrow a space as will suffice to explain the 
mode of their application. 
“With respect to the general forms of flowers, 
different shapes are best suited to different purposes. 
The cup-edged or rose-leaved petal, elegant as it is, 
is unsuited to show the colours of the Polyanthus, the 
Auricula, or the disked Cineraria, though it enhances 
the beauty of the Carnation, the Picotee, and the 
Pink. The flat surface will not effectively display the 
markings of such as are equally painted on both 
surfaces, as the Tulip ; nor will the hollow cup, so 
admired in that flower, suffice to bring the single 
Toppy or Pseony, with all its glowing colours, into 
favour with the fastidious. Regard must be had to 
the mode of colour, before a decision can be pronounced 
on the form most available for its display. The most 
perfect is when the flower is calculated to produce both 
a general effect as a whole, and likewise to attract 
observation to its several parts. In this respect, I 
imagine, the first place must be conceded, without a 
rival, to the Tulip, and the second probably to the 
Orchids. Nor does this prejudice the popular claim 
for the Rose, a claim in which I cordially join, to be 
the queen of flowers. The Rose has too many and too 
solid attractions to fear giving other flowers their due 
meed of superiority in particular points over itself. 
But the Rose is essentially a self-coloured flower, 
though there are some departures from this rule, and 
for the most part with little improvement. And it is 
rather ail encomium upon, than a disparagement of its 
merits, that having to. contend at a disadvantage, it 
wins for itself the highest place in our esteem. The 
Auricula, the Pelargonium, and perhaps the Carnation, 
present more of a picture,* and have more properties 
or points that conduce to excellence than the Rose. 
“ Were there any flower the colours of which are 
disposed with as minute a reference to mutual position 
as those of a picture, no doubt a perfectly flat surface 
would be best. And although making no such pre¬ 
tentions to accuracy, the Auricula is impatient ot any 
other form, because the relative proportions of its 
primary sub-divisions, which proportions are its prin¬ 
cipal characteristic, are injured or lost without it. The 
Polyanthus and the party-coloured varieties of Cine¬ 
raria would suffer in the same way, but in a less degree. 
The colours of flowers, however, are beautiful by a 
higher than the painter’s rule, and when in their 
utmost regularity disdain the servile trammels of man’s 
imitative art. Themselves and their purposes are 
alike original, and not by copy ; and display their 
Maker’s praise as much in what, to a superficial 
observer, would appear their imperfections, as in what 
are called their highest perfections. And therefore the 
forms on which their beauties can be inscribed with 
effect are not so limited. 
“I have before observed that, theoretically, a globe 
would be initself the most perfect form,considered simply 
as a figure ; and the same will apply, to a considerable 
extent, as a surface for the reflection of colour. Yet if 
a globe were formed in any other manner than by the 
convex edges of many petals, as in some of the Ranun- 
eulacefe or the Amaranthus, it would not answer our 
ideas of a flower, the essence of which is expansion or 
opening out, which, indeed, is the meaning of the 
word ‘petal.’ It would, therefore, be out of the 
question for single flowers ; and, in fact, the casual 
arching-over of its petals in the resemblance of a globe, 
which takes plape in some long-cupped varieties of the 
Tulip, is a great dissight. 
“ The section of a globe, as in a well-shaped Tulip, 
offers the next greatest amount of advantages, and one 
of the charms of that magnificent flower is owing to 
its mathematically perfect form ; and in the recent 
*The Pansy does; but I have no wish to expose a truth to 
ridicule, by appearing to compare the Pansy to the Rose. 
[1819] controversy about its exact proportions, I have 
no doubt of all eventually agreeing in the opinion of 
those who assert that it ought to be half a globe, 
because, if it be less, in the same degree that it falls 
short of a hemisphere does, it lose the globular, which 
is its higher character, and approach the idea of a plane 
surface with cupped edges—a form actually assumed by 
some Tulips in the middle of a hot day, after they have 
been some time in flower ; and if it be greater, in the 
same degree that it exceeds a hemisphere does it fall 
short of its just expansion, both in appearance and 
effect. For the half of a hollow globe, of the size of a 
Tulip, presents a sufficiently level surface for the most 
delicate floral markings to be perceived ; and in the 
case of this flower, which is painted on each surface, 
enables both the inner and the outer to be seen at the 
same time. Hence it is the most effective form of any. 
“ Another way in which an adventitious magnitude 
is produced is when the lines both of form and colour 
are parallel, instead of crossing each other, and both 
run outwards (that is, towards infinity) without a stop. 
This is well illustrated in the singular difference of 
effect produced by the three florists’ species of 
Dianthus,—the Carnation, Picotee, and Pink. Which¬ 
ever may be the favourite, none, I think, will deny 
that all the grandeur belongs to the Carnation. The 
reason of this, though not obvious, is quite intelligible, 
and arises (to compare small things with great) from the 
same difference of principle that separates Gothic 
architecture from Classical—the principle of perpen¬ 
dicular and of horizontal lines. The stripes of the 
Carnation are disposed longitudinally, the same way 
with the length of the petal, and are not terminated 
by any visible end. They run out, as it were, and lose 
themselves in a space. The lacing on the petal of a 
Picotee or a Pink is stopped by its adjoining one, and 
it is transverse to the length of the petal ; it forms a 
visible termination both to the flower and to its colours. 
Hence a Pink, often as large as the largest Carnation, 
will necessarily appear small and confined in comparison. 
“The restricting mode of colour, however, has its 
advantages, as well as its disadvantages. For the 
Carnation, from its great variety, both in forms and 
colours, ought to be the prettiest of the three; in 
which quality, I believe, most of my fair readers 
would be disposed to place it where I should myself, 
as the last instead of the first. There is a 
sort of masculine character imparted to it by its con¬ 
centrated efforts towards magnitude, which impairs its 
delicacy. It is this direction of the lines of colour in 
the Picotee which make what are called * bars ’ a 
disfigurement, a sentence which many denounce as 
capricious and unreasonable, not considering that they 
are transverse to the lines of colour, and that lines at 
right angles are necessarily harsh. 
‘ ‘ The ordinary mode in which the petals of a modern 
Pelargonium are disposed, give an instance of another 
effect imparted to a system of colours by the shape of 
the ground on which they are laid. The two larger or 
upper are sometimes called back petals, not because 
they really lie farther back than the three lower ones, 
but because these latter are commonly thrown straight 
forwards, while the others have a greater tendency to 
the other direction and to reflex, whereby the face 
of the flowers is thrown upwards and forwards, and a 
character of forwardness or boldness imparted to it, the 
same as there is to the human countenance by the same 
position ; and what is called a bold flower, is one in 
which this disposal of the petals is more than ordinarily 
conspicuous. 
“ When colour is only effective in the mass, the shape 
mostly adapted for shewing it to advantage will depend 
partly on the natural form of the flower, partly, as before 
observed, on its size, and partly on the brilliance, or 
otherwise, of its hue, or, which comes to the same thing, 
whether colour or shape take the precedence. 
“In the subordinate parts of a flower, as the single 
petal, for instance, the imbricated form, so called from 
its resemblance to a drain-tile, takes off from the stiff 
formality of the Camellia ; and the quilled petal gives 
liveliness and grace to the Chrysanthemum. The same 
form detracts from the appearance of the Aster, because 
its petals are so narrow, that they cannot afford the 
shrinking of size it occasions. 
“ Observations of this kind may and ought to be 
extended to some considerable minuteness of detail, 
but as they are only applications of what has gone 
before, they will not require me to draw at greater 
length upon the kind patience of your readers. 
“The other origin of beauty is ColGur, the most 
obvious source of our varied, pleasurable impressions 
from the flower-garden, and on which therefore the 
reader may not unreasonably fear a discussion as long 
as that which has gone before. Happily, however, in 
this he will be mistaken, for the philosophic or constant 
elements of its effectiveness, to which I am here con¬ 
fined, are few ; nor is it intended fully to discuss these, 
for a reason that will afterwards be adverted to. The 
observations I have to offer will class themselves under 
colours in general as such, and on the juxtaposition of 
two or more on the same grounds. 
“ 1. With regard to colours in general, the pre¬ 
ference of one before another arises, for the most part, 
from causes of which I do not treat, for each has, 
intrinsically, an equal right to admiration. Much 
belongs to individual taste, much to accidental circum¬ 
stance, such as rarity, and these, as not reducible to 
rule, are beside the present purpose. A blue Dahlia, 
or a scarlet Pelargonium, may be worth a hundred 
guineas, but the value is accidental, not essential, and 
belongs to the philosophy, not of the flower, but of 
man. There are, however, a few intrinsic qualities, 
according to which colour seems necessarily effective, 
or the contrary. I shall mention but two, applicable 
equally, whether the flower in which they are found is 
self or party-coloured. 
“The first is Brightness, by which I mean neither 
a higher nor a deeper tint, the value of which is purely 
conventional and a matter of taste, but the opposite to 
the flat and washy appearance often seen in petals of thin 
substance, as if it were fading, and somewhat similar 
to what in art would arise from a too thin coat of 
paint. Possibly it may sometimes be connected with 
the epidermis alone being the seat of colour, because 
if you look closely into the bell of a good light blue 
Hyacinth, the colour, however light, will appear to 
penetrate the entire fleshy substance of the petal, and 
will be as bright and lively as the deepest tint could be. 
All the rays of its colours are reflected back to the eye, 
and not absorbed and lost, as many of them are, in the 
dull, thin, and watery colour of some of the old (not 
Chinese) Hollyhocks of twenty years ago. Byblcemen 
Tulips, when narrowly examined, are seldom entirely 
free from this fault. 
“The other quality is Distinctness, by which term I 
mean, not the impossibility of mistaking at first si»ht 
whether the colour in question be a blue or a violet, a 
rose or a pink (for, on the contrary, I thin’k such in¬ 
describable shades of colour as are best to be found in 
the Rose form one of the highest charms of that peerless 
monarch of the garden), but such an individual (may I 
use the word idiosyncratic* ?) distinctness, as when once 
well seen and felt will ensure its being distinguished 
from others. Without this, it would be equally im¬ 
possible to discriminate between 2,000 varieties, and 
useless to cultivate them, for a colour that excites no 
corresponding and pleasurable idea is worthless. Yet 
colours of this objectionable and meaningless kind 
are not uncommon, and often partially intrude into 
some of our best varieties, as in the Catafalque Tulip, 
and others —as if for a stimulus to the raiser still to 
press on for something nearer his idea of perfection. 
Seedling or breeder Tulips often are of a hue that 
seems hardly to be classed as a colour, but rather as a 
negatation of colour. ‘Foxy’ Auriculas and Polyan¬ 
thuses are of this class.’’ 
Carnations from Seed. 
Although seed sown as soon as ripe will germinate 
very freely, and make strong plants if wintered in a 
frame to plant out in the spring, yet it does seem as 
if in many cases the result is to produce bloom at the 
expense of grass or shoots, and therefore it is not 
easy to perpetuate them. The fact is undoubtedly 
true of many seedlings of a superior nature, just as it is 
of many that are inferior. If plants be wanted chiefly 
to produce flowers, either for cutting from or to give a 
fine effect in the borders, seed should be sown in the 
autumn by all means. I have seen plants so raised 
producing the second year fully fifty stems, and literally 
hundreds of flowers. 
When it is purposed to propagate by layers it is wiser 
to sow seed in the spring, plant out in June, and thus 
get plants less strong, but not so floriferous as the 
earlier sowing produces, and carrying plenty of grass. 
The sowing in the autumn does not of necessity cause 
the plants to bloom before the second year, but they 
are much stronger than results from spring sowings. 
Still farther, the young plants can be put out into the 
open ground in April, and the two months’ growth thus 
obtained is of the greatest moment. 
Carnation and Pink seed germinates as freely 
in a cold house or frame if sown now as Sweet 
* Peculiar to its own composition, 
