370 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
April  29,  1897. 
subjects  which  he  brings  under  review  ;  and  besides,  the  nature  of  the 
work  will  be  more  fairly  represented  by  a  few  citations,  with  or  without 
a  few  words  of  comment  as  the  matter  may  or  may  not  suggest.  One 
thing  may  be  said — namely,  that  the  author  goes  as  far  as  he  can  to  the 
beginning  of  things,  and  endeavours  to  follow  them  to  the  end  as  guided 
by  his  own  intellectual  light  or  the  light  of  others  that  may  have  illu¬ 
mined  his  path.  Commencing  with  the  nature  and  divergence  of  the 
plant  and  the  animal,  the  author  says  : — 
“  It  is  self-evident  that  the  development  of  life  upon  our  planet  has 
taken  place  along  two  divergent  lines.  These  lines  evidently  originated 
at  a  common  point.  The  common  life-plasma  was  probably  at  first 
more  animal-like  than  plant-like.  The  stage  in  which  this  life-plasma 
first  began  to  assume  plant-like  functions  is  closely  aDd  possibly  exactly 
preserved  to  U3  in  that  great  class  of  organisms  which  are  known  as 
mycetozoa  when  studied  by  zoologists,  and  as  myxomycetes  when  studied 
by  botanists.  At  one  stage  of  their  existence  these  organisms  are 
amceba-like — that  is,  animal-like,  but  at  another  stage  they  are  spori- 
ferous,  or  plant-like.  The  initial  divergencies  in  organisms  were  no 
doubt  concerned  chiefly  in  the  methods  of  appropriating  food,  the 
animal-like  organisms  apprehending  their  food  at  a  more  or  less  definite 
point,  and  the  plant-like  organisms  absorbing  food  throughout  the 
greater  or  even  the  entire  part  of  their  periphery.  ...  If  we  turn  to 
plants,  we  find  the  rotate  or  peripheral  arrangement  of  parts  emphasised 
in  all  the  higher  ranges  of  forms.  The  most  marked  bilateralism  in  the 
plant  world  is  amongst  the  bacteria,  desmids,  and  the  like,  in  which 
locomotion  is  markedly  developed  ;  and  these  are  also  amongst  the 
lowest  plant  types.  But  plants  soon  become  attached  to  the  earth,  or, 
as  Cope  terms  them,  they  are  *  earth  parasites.’  They  therefore  found  it 
to  their  advantage  to  reach  out  in  every  direction  from  their  support  in 
search  of  food.  Whilst  the  centrifugal  arrangement  has  strongly  tended 
to  disappear  in  the  animal  creation,  it  has  tended  with  equal  strength  to 
persist  and  to  augment  itself  in  the  plant  creation.  .  .  .  The  vegetable 
world  does  not  exhibit,  as  a  whole,  any  backward  step,  any  loss  of 
character  ohce  gained,  nor  any  stationary  or  retarded  periods.”  Is 
that  so  1 
Then  Mr.  Bailey  goes  on  to  say ,  and  not  many  persons  will  presumably 
controvert  his  opinion,  that — “  This  phrase — the  survival  of  the  unlike — 
expresses  no  new  truth,  but  I  hope  that  it  may  present  the  whole  truth 
of  vicarious  or  non-designed  evolution  in  a  new  light.  It  defines  the 
fittest  to  be  the  unlike.  ...  I  am  so  fully  convinced  that,  in  tte  plant 
creation,  a  new  character  is  useful  to  the  species  because  it  is  unlike  its 
kin,  that  the  study  of  differences  between  individuals  has  come  to  be, 
for  me,  the  one  absorbing  and  controlling  thought  in  the  contemplation 
of  the  progress  of  life.  These  differences  arise  as  a  result  of  every 
impinging  force — soil,  weather,  climate,  food,  training,  conflict  with 
fellows,  the  strain  and  stress  of  wind  and  wave,  and  insect  visitors — as 
a  complex  resultant  of  many  antecedent  external  forces,  the  effects  of 
crossing,  and  also  as  the  result  of  the  accumulated  force  of  mere  growth  ; 
they  are  indefinite,  non-designed,  an  expression  of  all  the  various 
influences  to  which  the  passive  vegetable  organism  is  or  has  been 
exposed.  .  .  .  Thereby  there  is  a  constant  tendency  for  new  and 
divergent  lines  to  strike  off,  and  these  lines,  as  they  become  accented, 
develop  into  what  we,  for  convenience  sake,  have  called  species.  There 
are,  therefore,  as  many  species  as  there  are  unlike  conditions  in  physical 
and  environmental  nature,  and  in  proportion  as  the  conditions  are  unlike 
and  local  are  the  species  well  defined.  But  to  Nature,  perfect  adapta¬ 
tion  is  the  end  ;  she  knows  nothing, per  se,  as  species  or  as  fixed  types. 
Species  were  created  by  John  Ray,  not  by  the  Lord  ;  they  were  named 
by  Linnaeus,  not  by  Adam.”  _ 
Most  persons  will  agree  with  the  following  observations  : — “A  good 
gardener  is  one  who  grows  good  plants,  and  good  plants  are  very  unlike 
poor  plants.  They  are  unlike  because  the  gardener’s  love  for  them  has 
made  them  so.  The  plants  were  all  alike  in  November  ;  in  January  the 
good  gardener’s  plants  are  strong  and  clean,  with  large,  dense  leaves,  a 
thick  stem,  and  an  abundance  of  perfect  flowers.  The  poor  gardener’s 
plants  are  small  and  mean,  with  curled  leaves,  a  thin,  bard  stem,  and  a 
few  imperfect  flowers.  You  will  not  believe  now  that  the  two  lots  were 
all  from  the  same  feed  pod  three  months  ago.  The  good  gardener  likes 
to  save  his  own  seeds,  or  to  make  his  own  cuttings  ;  and  next  year  his 
plants  wiil  be  still  more  unlike  his  neighbour’s.  The  neighbour  tries  this 
seed  and  that,  reads  this  bulletin  and  that,  but  all  avails  nothing,  simply 
because  he  does  not  grow  good  plants.  He  does  not  care  for  them 
tenderly,  as  a  fond  mother  cares  for  a  child.  The  good  gardener  knows 
that  the  temperatme  of  the  water  and  the  air,  the  currents  in  the 
atmosphere,  the  texture  of  the  soil,  and  all  the  little  amenities  and 
comforts  which  plants  so  much  enjoy,  are  just  the  factors  which  make 
his  plantB  successful ;  and  a  good  crop  of  anything,  whether  Wheat  or 
Beans  or  Apples,  is  simply  a  variation.  And  do  these  unlikenesses 
survive  ?  Yes,  verily  !  .  .  .  The  cultivated  flora  has  come  up  with 
man,  and  if  it  has  departed  immensely  from  its  wild  prototypes,  so  has 
man.  The  greater  part  of  all  this  has  been  unconscious  and  unintended 
on  man’s  part,  but  it  is  none  the  less  real.” 
The  author  has  much  to  say  on  bud  variations  and  sports,  indeed  the 
chapter  in  which  the  subject  is  discussed  is  perhaps  one  of  the  most 
interefting  in  the  book.  A  few  citations  will  best  display  its  character. 
“ 1  Bud  variations,’  or  those  ‘  sports  ’  which  now  and  then  appear  on 
certain  limbs  or  parts  of  plants,  are  nearly  always  readily  propagated  by 
cuttings.  These  variations  cannot  be  attributed  to  sex,  in  the  ordinary 
and  legitimate  application  of  the  Weismannian  hypothesis.  Whilst 
these  ‘  sports  ’  are  well  known  to  horticulturists  they  are  generally  con¬ 
sidered  to  be  rare,  but  nothing  can  be  farther  from  the  truth.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  every  branch  of  a  tree  is  different  from  every  other 
branch,  and  when  the  difference  is  sufficient  to  attract  attention,  or  to 
have  commercial  value,  it  is  propagated  and  called  a  ‘  sport.’  .  .  In  other 
words,  plants  multiply  both  with  and  without  sex.  .Potentially,  every 
node  and  internode  of  the  plant  is  an  individual,  for  it  possesses  the 
power,  when  removed  and  properly  cared  for,  of  expanding  into  what  we 
call  a  plant,  and  of  perfecting  flowers  and  seeds,  and  of  multiplying  its 
kind.  .  .  .  The  nurseryman  knows  that  branches  differ  amongst  them¬ 
selves,  for  he  instructs  his  budders  to  cut  buds  only  from  the  topmost 
shoots  of  the  nursery  rows,  in  order  that  he  may  grow  straight,  vigorous 
trees  ;  and  every  farmer’s  boy  isStoId  that  he  should  never  select  scions 
from  the  centre  or  lower  part  of  a  tree.  Every  skilful  horticulturist 
will  tell  you  that  the  character  of  the  orchard  is  determined  very  largely 
by  the  judgment  of  the  propagator  in  selecting  scions.”  And  it  is  further 
intimated  that  scions  taken  from  vigorous  young  trees  which  have  not 
fruited  (as  in  nursery  rows)  may  be  expected  to  give  trees  which  will  be 
later  in  bearing* than  others  which  have  been  propagated  from  fruiting 
trees. 
The  influence  of  climate  as  changing  the  shapes  of  Apples  is  specifically 
noted.  “The  similarity  of  the  same  varieties  of  Apples  grown  in  the 
Eastern  and  Western  States”  being  said  to  “end  with  their  names,” 
for  “  the  Apples  themselves  are  very  unlike.  They  have  been  modified 
by  climate  until  they  are  larger,  longer,  and  more  conical,  frequently 
marked  by  prominent  ridges  at  the  apex,  less  firm  in  flesh,  and  often 
somewhat  inferior  in  quality.  To  all  intents  and  purposes  many  of 
them  are  distinct  varieties  from  their  parents  in  the  East,  and  they 
afford  as  distinct  and  unequivocal  cases  of  evolutionary  modification  as 
the  most  hypercritical  can  wish  to  see.  The  Newtown  Pippin  affords 
one  of  the  best  instances  of  rapid  modification  of  any  American  fruit. 
It  has  always  been  a  local  and  captious  Apple  in  New  York  State,  where 
it  originated,  yet  in  the  Piedmont  region  of  Virginia  it  is  the  leading 
Apple,  known  as  the  Albemarle  Pippin  ;  in  the  far  North-west  it  iB 
again  the  leading  Apple  over  a  great  territory,  and  in  New  South  Wales, 
under  the  name  of  Five-Crowned  Pippin,  it  is  still  again  a  dominant 
variety.  Yet  in  each  of  these  four  geographical  regions  the  variety 
attains  a  specific  character  which  it  does  not  possess  in  the  ethers.” 
The  question  of  dessert  Apples  receives  prominent  attention.  In 
America  Apples  are  graded  on  a  decimal  scale  in  three  distinct  categories 
— desert,  cooking,  and  market.  Each  variety  is  also  rated  in  size  and 
colour.  The  standard  of  excellence,  as  determined  by  a  great  fruitist, 
Mr.  Lyon,  is  high,  and  only  the  very  choicest  varieties  reach  figures  9 
and  10.  Long  lists  are  given  of  these  and  other  fruits,  their  relative 
values  being  represented  in  figures,  with  10  as  a  maximum.  The  result 
is  that  “  we  find  thirty-eight  varieties  of  Apples  graded  9  and  10  for 
dessert,  of  which  only  three  are  rated  small,  while  seven  are  large,  and 
two  are  very  large.  Those  rated  as  medium  to  small  are  two,  and  those 
medium  to  large  are  three.  Of  these  thirty-eight  entries,  therefore,  six, 
or  less  than  one-sixth,  would  be  called  small  Apples,  and  thirteen,  or 
over  one-third,  are  large  Apples,  the  remaining  ones  being  classed  as 
medium  or  intermediate.”  The  author  goes  on  to  say,  “  It  is  evident, 
from  our  discussion,  that  quality  and  other  characters  of  cultivated  fruits 
appear  independently  of  each  other — that  there  is  no  true  correlation 
between  these  characters.  There  is  a  general  increase  in  all  characters 
as  amelioration  progresses,  at  least  in  all  characters  which  are  sought  by 
horticulturists  ;  and  this  fact  must  ever  remain  the  chief  inspiration  to 
man  in  his  efforts  to  ameliorate  plants.” 
There  is  much  more  in  the  book  worthy  of  attention,  though  no  doubt 
some  chaff  amongst  the  grain  ;  still,  the  “  Survival  of  the  Unlike  ”  is 
entertaining,  instructive,  and  suggestive.  It  is  a  readable  book,  which 
is  no  small  merit,  and  as  a  “  handbook  ’’  it  is  the  lightest  in  weight  of 
any  we  have  handled  that  is  composed  of  nearly  500  pages.  The  price 
is  not  stated,  but  we  do  not  suppose  it  is  prohibitive  to  the  great  bulk  of 
gardeners  and  amateurs  in  the  Old  Country,  in  which  there  are  happily 
a  few  “  dollars  ”  left  ;  we  should  like  to  know  there  are  many,  as  the 
reward  for  honest  labour  in  the  domain  of  horticulture. 
Feeding  Roses. — Mr.  Robert  Simpson,  writing  to  “The  American 
Florist,”  says  that  it  is  a  mistake  to  feed  Roses  under  glass  or  other 
plants  of  this  class  abundantly  in  autumn  or  early  winter,  while  the 
plants  are  small  and  soft  and  while  the  soil  is  still  rich  in  plant  food, 
with  comparatively  few  roots  to  use  it.  But  in  the  spring,  when  the  soil 
is  full  of  roots,  the  sun  powerful  and  the  growth  rapid,  unless  nutriment 
is  furnished  just  as  fast  as  it  can  be  consumed  by  the  plants,  small  shoots 
and  smaller  flowers  will  be  the  result.  Of  course,  we  cannot  take  fresh 
manure  from  the  stable  into  the  greenhouse  and  UBe  it  as  a  mulch.  It 
should  have  been  heaped  up  last  summer,  turned  over  once  or  twice  in 
the  autumn,  and  stored  before  cold  weather  in  a  shed  or  other  dry  place 
where  it  can  be  reached  and  handled  at  any  time.  In  this  season  of 
growth  the  surface  of  the  benches  should  be  sprinkled  over  with  a  dust¬ 
ing  of  finely  ground  bone  or  wood  ashes,  or,  better  still,  with  a  mixture 
of  both,  and  this  should  be  covered  with  a  mulch  an  inch  thick  of  the 
well-decayed  manure  and  soil  mixed  in  equal  quantities.  Liquid  manure 
may  be  omitted  for  a  week  after  the  mulch  is  spread,  otherwise  it 
should  be  attended  to  faithfully  and  regularly,  giving  it  frequently  in  a 
very  diluted  form. 
