THE GENUS DIANTHUS. 
9 
Boreas” would, without the intervention of some most cogent 
reason, lock their treasures fast in the embraces of the inscrutable 
future. Thanks to the master minds which discovered warm air 
to be lighter than the nipping north wind, and cold water to be 
heavier than “hot without,” which invocation must include all 
who ever troubled themselves with the bothering category of 
flues, chunk, vesta, or any other stoves, pipes, gutters, or tanks; 
and lastly, the great Polmaise itself—honour and praise be to 
them; for, by some or other of their contrivances, we may con¬ 
trive to render cheering and pleasant no small portion of our 
“brief span,” that must previously have been wrapped in gloom, 
to say nothing of the gastronomic rarities which the forcing de¬ 
partment of a garden places in our way. 
But to proceed. The forcing of pinks is a common operation, 
and being some years ago much gratified with the freshness and 
fragrance of a bunch of their blossoms, gathered in March, I was 
led to imagine what would be the delight with which a bouquet 
of their more specious brethren, the carnations, would be viewed 
under the same circumstances. The idea pursued me—I was 
induced to make inquiries as to the best mode of attaining my 
desire, but met with very little encouragement. The general 
impression seemed to be, that they were too impatient of heat to 
bear forcing, till an old practitioner flattered me with the follow¬ 
ing: “If you don’t hurry them, you will succeed.” This was to 
be the groundwork of my future operations; and, in pursuance 
of my determination to attempt their forcing, certain of the 
strongest stools of the more common varieties were selected in 
the blooming season and set on one side for the purpose, omitting 
with them the usual process of layering. These plants, to the 
number of a dozen, were treated much the same as the other 
portion of the stock. They were placed in frames along with 
the layers, and had water and air at the same time and in like 
proportion till the following February, when, with all the feelings 
of an anxious adventurer, I introduced them to the forcing-house, 
at the same time holding roses, lilacs, bulbs, and all the other 
usual occupants of such a place at such a season. My carnations 
grew—oh, how they grew !—-but they would not produce a single 
bud ; one or two abortive attempts at a flower-stem made a fugi¬ 
tive appearance, and thus terminated my first season of forcing 
