230 THE FLORIST. 
A FEW STRAY NOTES ON HORTICULTURE IN PARIS. 
WHOEVER would go to Paris, with his mind full of new Roses, 
strangely spotted and striped Geraniums, gorgeous Marguerite Asters, 
and the other novelties, which our gay and lively neighbours are m the 
habit of exporting, for their own benefit and our gratification, and would 
expect to find that the state of gardening corresponded with the abun- 
dance of the exports, would be most grievously mistaken. But whoever, 
knowing the taste and nattiness of the nation, would expect to find the 
most fade of what they possessed, would find his anticipations correct, 
and that in the matter of decorations we have some things to learn, though 
the immense difference of climate of course must be taken into con- 
sideration. Having recently given our readers a few notes on horti- — 
culture in Ireland, I now take the opportunity of a recent visit to what 
the French call the metropolis of the world, to add a few on the state of 
gardening there. 
There is not any time of the year in which the gardens or public 
promenades look better than early in June; the sun has not had time 
to wither up the leaves, which it does despite of very assiduous 
waterings, and there is a freshness and greenness about them which we 
in vain look for later. The gardens of the Tuileries and the Champs 
Elysees are then in perfection, though the intensely cold and wet 
spring had somewhat retarded operations this year; but withal, they 
were looking very beautiful. It is, I know, the fashion with some to 
decry our London squares and public promenades, but I think with — 
great injustice. Remember our climate; remember that London is a 
vast hive of industry, and not a city of pleasure, and I say that we do 
not suffer in the comparison. Certainly we have nothing to compare 
with the splendid quarter of Paris comprising the Rue de Rivoli, on 
to the Arc de Triomphe de L’Etoile; but let any unprejudiced John 
Bull go into that respectable quarter of London where Bloomsbury and 
Doughty and other squares exist, and I think that the foliage in early 
spring, the sweet Hawthorn, and the golden Laburnum, may be truly 
said to impart a charm to it by no means despicable; and the flower 
borders in Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens are, I think, equal to 
anything of the same kind in Paris. They have, however, some 
ingenious devices which I think we well might copy ; for instance, Ivy 
is largely used as an edging, and I should think would answer admir- 
ably in our climate, in such places as Hyde Park; when well trained, 
it has a fresh and pleasing effect, and with thickly-planted masses of 
scarlet Geraniums behind would be very attractive. Then, again, in 
places where Grass grows with difficulty, they seemed to me, with 
a little extra expense, to meet the case admirably. In the Place 
Louvois, where my hotel was situated, there is a small plot, and when I 
was there in November it was quite bare; but now, round the - 
fountain which plays in the centre, was a raised Grass mound, looking 
quite fresh and lively. On examining it I found that it was obtained 
by sowing very thickly with Grass seeds, and these I presumed, from 
the appearance, were only intended to be considered as annuals. I saw 
