68 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARRE  HER. 
January  2§,  1886 
1 
labour  under  great  disadvantages  in  the  purchase  of  their  raw 
material  and  in  the  general  conduct  of  their  affairs. 
It  seems  to  me  that  the  above  remarks  show  fairly  and  clearly 
the  relative  positions  of  the  British  gardener  in  private  places  and 
that  of  trade  growers  in  regard  to  their  facilities  for  the  production 
of  various  crops,  and  it  amounts  to  this  :  “  That  the  former  cannot 
grow  really  superior  produce  at  so  little  cost  as  the  latter.”  Of 
course,  there  is  the  great  pleasure  of  having  everything  grown  in 
one’s  own  garden,  and  in  prosperous  times  our  nobility  and  gentry 
without  doubt  thoroughly  appreciated  this  ;  but  in  these  days  of 
agricultural  depression  the  expense  is  often  the  only  thing 
considered.  In  the  face  of  these  undoubted  facts  it  is  a  matter 
for  serious  consideration  whether  or  not  gardeners  should  revolu¬ 
tionise  their  tactics  in  garden  management. 
Under  the  old  conditions  a  good  all-round  establishment  kept 
up  a  constant  supply  of  all  that  was  needed  of  garden  produce. 
Some  things  were  grown  for  which  the  demand  was  conspicuously 
uncertain  ;  the  great  aim  was  to  have  plenty  of  everything.  This 
often  entailed  a  good  deal  of  useless  trouble  and  expense,  notwith¬ 
standing  the  fact  that  it  was  not  noticed  in  those  easy-going  times, 
and,  moreover,  some  things  could  not  then  be  obtained  in  the 
markets.  Matters  in  this  direction  have  now  entirely  changed. 
The  increase  in  the  number  of  the  wealthy  middle  class  long  ago 
caused  a  demand  for  many  horticultural  luxuries  to  emanate  from 
people  who  could  well  afford  to  pay  for  them,  but  who  could  not 
keep  up  sufficiently  large  gardens  to  grow  all  for  themselves. 
This  fact  was  in  time  grasped  by  trade  growers,  and  the  demand 
quickly  supplied. 
Taking  all  these  things  into  consideration  my  belief  is  that  very 
large  and  good  all-round  gardens  will  in  the  future  be  conspicuous 
by  their  absence.  Gardens  will  become  more  ornamental  rather 
than  productive.  Flower  and  pleasure  gardens  will  be  well  main¬ 
tained,  though  perhaps  on  a  less  extensive  scale  than  formerly,  and 
a  certain  amount  of  glass  structures  maintained  to  provide  a  supply 
at  ordinary  times,  especially  of  the  odds  and  ends  that  are  always 
in  demand  ;  but  whenever  any  special  event  is  to  take  place  the 
great  markets  of  the  country  will  supply  the  bulk  of  the  materials 
required.  This  may,  perhaps,  to  many  appear  an  unsatisfactory 
state  of  affairs  for  gardeners  ;  but  if  the  matter  be  examined 
closely  this  view  will,  I  think,  be  greatly  modified,  for  gardeners 
in  private  places  have  been  gradually  drifting  to  a  position  which 
is  becoming  untenable.  I  have  shown  that  they  could  not  compete 
with  trade  growers  in  the  production  of  really  first-class  produce 
at  a  comparatively  low  price  ;  but  there  is  still  another  point  to 
consider.  It  is  this  : — 
Social  functions  in  these  “  electric  ”  days  are  sometimes 
arranged  with  such  startling  abruptness,  that  it  is  often  impossible 
for  gardeners  to  provide  sufficient  material  by  a  given  date,  no 
matter  what  conveniences  they  may  have  ;  but  in  our  great 
markets  the  supply  is  invariably  abundant,  and  by  giving  a  few 
days’  notice  any  quantity  of  flowers,  fruit,  or  vegetables  in  season 
may  be  secured,  simply  because  we  have  the  resources  of  the  whole 
country  to  choose  from — aye,  more,  for  rapid  methods  of  transit 
have  placed  the  flowers  of  such  sunny  lands  as  Spain,  Italy, 
Belgium,  and  Southern  France  on  our  markets.  In  winter  and 
early  spring  this  is  a  distinct  advantage,  because  the  flowers  being 
grown  in  the  open  air  possess  more  substance  than  do  those  of  the 
same  species  and  varieties  which  are  forced  in  English  hothouses, 
and  the  time  taken  for  the  foreign  flowers  to  travel  here  counts 
for  little  in  point  of  freshness  so  long  as  the  weather  is  cool,  and 
when  warmer  days  come  we  have  flowers  enough  in  our  own  land. 
I  do  not  write  without  considerable  experience  in  this  matter, 
as  I  have  arranged  thousands  of  continental  flower*  of  various 
description*,  and  since  beginning  this  article  I  have  unpacked 
several  large  boxes  as  they  arrived  ;  their  contents  were  indeed 
satisfactory  from  a  decorator’s  point  of  view.  First  I  found 
Carnations,  cut  with  long  stalks  and  plenty  of  “  grass  ;  ”  then 
grand  Red  Safrano  Roses,  with  good  stems  and  tough  glossy 
leaves.  Marshal  Niel  Roses  and  others  of  a  cream  colour  were 
unearthed  as  the  work  of  unpacking  went  on.  "White  and 
yellow  Narcissi  were  there  in  great  abundance ;  and  so  were 
Anemones,  of  various  and  bright  colours  ;  the  whole  perfectly 
fresh,  and  none  the  worse  for  their  long  journey. 
Before  concluding,  it  is  perhaps  well  for  me  to  add  that  I  am 
a  firm  believer  in  the  British  article,  and  also  in  the  necessity  of 
fostering  British  trade  ;  but  during  the  present  month  I  have  as 
yet  found  it  impossible  to  get  enough  British-grown  flowers  of  the 
right  character,  especially  those  with  long  stems,  which  also 
possess  good  lasting  qualities  ;  and  I  question  if  the  British  grower 
will  ever  be  able  to  compete  with  the  foreign  rival  during  the 
month  of  January.  The  former  has  to  spend  much  time  and 
money  in  forcing  to  get  flowers  then  ;  the  latter  simply  grows 
them  in  the  open  air,  thanks  to  his  mild  winters.  His  triumph, 
however,  does  not  last  long,  for  with  the  return  of  sunny  days 
Britain  is  a  land  of  flowers.  —British  Gardener. 
UNWRITTEN  LEAVES. 
Up  on  the  shelf,  beside  its  predecessors,  have  we  placed  our 
modest  diary,  and  with  what  pride  has  a  new  one  been  opened — 
turning  over  a  new  leaf,  several  new  leaves.  Hundreds  nay,  even 
thousands,  of  those  cheap  and  useful  office  diaries  are,  in  all 
probability,  to  be  found  lying  on  gardeners’  desks  in  the  office,  or 
in  the  cottage,  and,  I  trust,  in  many  a  bothy  too,  for 
“  'Tis  granted,  and  no  plainer  truth  appears, 
Our  most  important  are  our  earliest  years.” 
Presumably  the  bulk  of  these  all  but  virgin  pages  will  be  filled 
with  a  faithful  record  of  work  done.  Some  few,  indeed,  but  few 
I  fear,  may  go  farther  than  the  historical  descriptive,  and  from 
the  philosophical  speculative,  conscientiously  note  down  such 
omissions  as  cannot  fail  to  have  their  correlative  influence  on  the 
balance-sheet  to  come.  This,  obviously,  is  broaching  another  phase 
of  the  subject — the  autobiographical.  Our  diarist,  in  this  instance, 
would  be  apt  to  inscribe  “  Private,”  and  place  the  telltale  under 
lock  and  key.  Rightly  so.  He  is  a  strong  man  who  knows  his 
weakness,  but  a  stronger  man  is  he  who  would  publish  it  to  the 
world. 
So  into  no  particular  diary  may  we  peep,  but  venture  a  few 
thoughts  on  generalities.  I  shall  but  turn  back  to  one  on  the 
shelf — my  shelf,  remember — marking  an  era  in  life.  There  is  a 
good  deal  written  on  its  pages  which  brings  up  pleasant  thoughts, 
and  much  that  is  unwritten — spaces  haunted  by  the  ghost  of  vain 
regrets.  I  was  then  entering  into  that  hard,  grinding  school  of 
experience,  and  it  is  for  the  benefit  of  young  men  now  one  brief 
extract  shall  here  be  given,  for  it  yields  me  unalloyed  pleasure.  It 
runs  thus: — “January  1st,  18 — .  Joined  the  Gardeners’  Royal 
Benevolent  Institution.”  Each  year,  when  the  report  of  that 
Institution  comes  to  hand,  am  I  vain  enough  to  seek  out  my 
humble  name,  and  take  a  perennial  pride  in  annually  seeing  it 
getting  farther  back.  Why,  if  I  go  on  living  and  looking  back 
it  will  eventually  be  the  oldest  name  on  the  list,  and  if  only  one 
of  my  masters  bad  carried  this  matter  into  the  bothy,  environed 
with  the  moral  force  of  his  position  and  its  claims,  then  an 
additional  ten  years  might  now  be  gloated  over.  You  can  now 
go  back  on  the  shelf  “No.  1  ”  of  the  then  new  series,  the  filling 
of  our  fresh  book  must  proceed. 
How  replete  with  possibilities  are  these  uninscribed  pages. 
Old  travellers,  young  travellers,  all  eager  to  make  a  record  over  the 
new,  the  unknown  course,  knowing  only  that  the  pace  is  ever 
increasing,  the  jostling  more  and  more  severe  in  competing  for 
prize,  or  place,  or  power.  How  necessary  then  to  start  girt  with 
the  strength  of  past  experience — our  own  and  that  of  others.  Too 
often  is  the  race  of  life  run  by  the  phantom  light  of  luck. 
“Lucky  men.”  “Unlucky  men.”  Who  and  what  are  these  men 
so  called,  or  rather  miscalled  ?  Take  one  specimen  of  either, 
analyse  him,  and  what  are  the  qualities  which  go  to  form  the 
whole  ?  Not  an  easy  task  I  admit.  Our  specimen  might  wriggle 
a  little  uneasily,  especially  if  of  the  unlucky  (?)  variety.  From  a 
phrenologist’s  point  of  view  my  ideal  subject  should  have  two 
bumps  pre-eminently  prominent,  the  one  consisting  of  knowing 
what  to  do,  the  other  of  energy  to  do  it,  and  these  are,  to  my 
mind,  all  sufficient  to  show  a  successful  balance-sheet  when  the 
tale  of  the  year  is  told,  or  in  the  grand  total  when  the  series  are 
closed  for  aye. 
In  knowing  what  to  do — we  all  know  that,  especially  young 
gardeners— no  slight  on  our  coming  men,  perhaps  better  ones, 
anyway,  it  shall  not  be  our  fault  if  they  are  not  so — it  is  not 
