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Floriculture comprehends whatever relates to the culture and arrangement of plants, whether ligneous or herbaceous, grown chiefly on account of their flowers, or as objects of taste or curiosity. The culture of flowers was long carried on with that of culinary vegetables, in the borders of the kitchengarden, or in parterres or groups of beds, which commonly connected the culinary compartments with the house. In places of moderate extent, this mixed style is still continued; but in residences which aim at any degree of distinction, the space within the kitchen-garden is confined to the production of objects of domestic utility, while the culture of plants of ornament is displayed in the flowergarden, the lawn, and the shrubbery. These, under the general term of pleasure-ground, encircle the house in small residences, and, in those on a larger scale, embrace it on one or more sides, the remaining part being under the character of park scenery. Many of the most interesting plants belonging to this branch of culture are natives of warm climates, and require the protection of glass, and artificial beat. On a limited scale, such plants are grown in the culinary forcing-houses, or in greenhouses, or botanic stoves, connected with the others in the kitchen-garden; and many of them are preserved in these houses, or in frames or pits, during winter, and planted out on the lawn, or in borders, during summer. In complete residences, the culture of exotics forms a distinct department of ornamental horticulture, and the hothouses requisite for this purpose are placed in the flower-garden, or variously arranged within the precincts of the pleasureground. In both departments, separation is attended with the usual advantages resulting from a division of skill, labor, and effect. Floriculture is obviously of limited interest and utility compared to horticulture; much less has accordingly been written on it, and our view of modern practice will, therefore, be proportionably brief. The order adopted is, the formation, planting, and general culture of the flower-garden; the formation, planting, and general culture of the lawn and shrubbery; the design and general culture of the floricultural hothouses; the catalogue of plants and trees used in ornamental horticulture; and, lastly, the monthly table of floricultural productions.

CHAPTER I.

OF THE FORMATION OF THE FLOWER-GARDEN.

The situation of the flower-garden, as of every scene devoted to flowers, should be near the house,

for ready access at all times, and especially during winter and spring, when the bees of these scenes are felt with peculiar force. flower-garden," Neill observes, "should form an ornamental appendage to the mansion, and be easily accessible in all kinds of weather. There is no objection to its being seen from the windows of the house: on the contrary, this is sometimes considered as desirable." Nicol, a celebrated landscape gardener, approves of having the various gardens of a place combined, and of placing them at no great distance from the house, and Repton, equally celebrated, strongly recommends this practice.

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Abercrombie says, "While the kitchen garden is concealed by buildings or plantations, the flowergarden and pleasure-ground should stand conspicuously attached to the family residence. When the horticultural establishment includes a conservatory, it is proper to have it in sight, and connected with the ornamented grounds; because the style of such a building, the plants within, and the scene without, under a tasteful arrangement, harmonize in character and effect." The botanic garden, the range of stoves, and all the departments, a visit to which renders a walk about the grounds pleasing and interesting, should be at hand.

The author of "The Florist's Manual" confines her observations to the "construction of that humble

flower-garden," which she calls "the common or mingled flower-garden." "This," she says, "should be situated so as to form an ornamental appendage to the house, and, where the plan of the ground will admit, placed before windows exposed to a southern or southeast aspect; and although to this position there may appear the objection of the flowers turning their petals to the sun, and consequently from the windows, this predilection in the tribe of Flora for the rays of that bright luminary will produce the same effect in whatever place our flowers may be situated, when in the vicinity of a building, as they invariably expose the front of their corols to the lights, from which both the petals of flowers and the leaves of plants are believed to derive materials essential to their existence." She adds, "When apart from the house, the mingled flower-garden may be introduced with great advantage, if situated so as to form a portion of the pleasure-ground: in this case it should not be distant from the house, but so contrived as to terminate one of the walks of the home shrubberies."

Fig. 2.

In exposure and aspect, the flower-garden should be laid out not only on account of the advantages to be derived from the full influence of the sun during winter on the hothouse department, but also for the better enjoyment of the open-air scenes, in weather favorable for walking out of doors. It should not be naturally low in surface, nor of a wet-retentive soil, nor rendered damp and gloomy by surrounding high trees, or lofty walls or buildings. If it happen that a house be nearly surrounded by a flowergarden, the variety of aspect thence afforded will be favorable to the continuance of the bloom of our flowers, far beyond what can be obtained if confined to a southern exposure. South, southeast, and east are the aspects most advantageous to the growth of flowers; and, possessing these varieties of exposure,

the bloom of a garden may be protracted some weeks beyond the time it could be preserved under a single aspect

The extent of the flower-garden depends jointly on the general scale of the residence, and the particular taste of the owner. There is no impropriety in having a large flower-garden to a small kitchengarden or mansion, where the taste of the owner leads to such a deviation from common rules. As moderation, however, is generally found best in the end, the author of the "Florist's Manual" states that "the compass of ground' appropriated to flowers must vary according to the size of the place of which that ground forms a part, and should in no case be of great extent. If the form of ground where a parterre is to be situated is sloping, the size should be larger than when a flat surface, and the borders of various shapes, and on a bolder scale, and intermingled with grass; but such a flowergarden partakes more of the nature of pleasureground than of the common parterre, and will admit of a judicious introduction of flowering shrubs."

Shelter is equally requisite for the flower as for the kitchen-garden, and, where naturally wanting, is to be produced by the same means, viz., planting. The plantation on the side next the garden should begin with the lowest shrubs, and rise in gradation to the trees, which, unless on the north, or very exposed points, should not be of the tallest kinds. A few elegant shrubs, and one or two trees, may be scattered through the scene, either in the dug compartments or in the turf glades, for the purposes of shelter and shade as well as ornament; but in general, much of either of the two former qualities is highly injurious both to the culture of flowers and the thick closeness of turf, besides rendering the garden unfit to be resorted to in the winter and spring seasons. Sometimes an evergreen hedge will produce all the shelter requisite, as in small gardens composed of earth and gravel only; but where the scene is large, and composed of dug compartments placed on a lawn, the whole may be surrounded by an irregular border of flowers, shrubbery, and trees.

Soil. Most of the hardy herbaceous flowers, and the deciduous and evergreen ornamental shrubs, will succeed in a soil of common good qualities, moderately light and mellow. Negatively, the ground should not be excessively strong and clayey; and mere gravel is very intractable.

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Nicol observes that flowers in general "will thrive very well in common garden-earth of a middling texture, if broken fine to the depth of one foot. Some no doubt do better in light than in heavy soils; the contrary: and others do best in rich humid earth. Bulbous flowers, in general, do best in light sandy earth; though some require a stronger and a richer soil. In general, the soil for these should be formed at least eighteen inches deep, and should be made very fine by the spade, or be put through a coarse screen." In parterres where the finer flowers

are cultivated, a variety of soils will be required according to the nature of the plants, as rich sandy loam for bulbs, loamy earth for the primula tribe, heath soil for ericas, bog-earth for American plants; and hence it follows that, provided the subsoil be dry, the nature of the surface stratum is of the less consequence.

Surface. Where the extent is small, and the plants to be grown are chiefly florists' flowers, or other select kinds, in beds separated by gravelled paths, a level or gentle and uniform slope will be found most suitable; 'but where the limits are more extensive, and turf and shrubs are introduced, a wavy surface, either naturally or rendered so by art, will have much the best effect. In recluse scenes immediately under the eye, art may create a sort of miniature of beautiful ground. Man is but a puny object compared to those of inanimate nature. He may overlook a distant hill, separated by low ground; but a mound of less than three yards in height, placed near the eye, confines the view, and all other objects being shut out, acquires, if apparently a work of nature, a degree of importance in his imagination: winding walks, four feet below the original surface, will supply earth for accompanying them by wavy hills or swells eight feet high. If these hills and swells are formed and contrived so as to produce a varied and natural-like whole, with every change of position, a very suitable basis will be raised for a picturesque shrubbery or flower-garden.

Grassy surfaces may be formed by cutting in small pieces about two inches square, and distributing them at regular distances, say at about six inches apart every way, over a well-prepared surface.

To repair and improve lawns in towns or cities, or under the shade of trees, without the aid of sod, dig the soil to the depth of three or four inches, the last week in March or the first week in April, and afterwards sow it thickly and regularly with the following seeds: Agróstis vulgàris var. tenuifòlia, Festuca duriúscula, F. ovina, Cynosurus cristàtus, Pòa praténsis, Avèna flavescens, and Trifolium minus. These seeds must be mixed together in equal portions, and sown at the rate of from four to six bushels per acre. If the seeds are regularly and thickly sown, the ground will soon become green, and will remain as close and thick as any sod whatever during the whole summer; dying, however, in the succeeding winter, and requiring therefore to be revived every spring.

Water. This material, in some form or other, is as essential to the flower as to the kitchen-garden. Besides the use of the element in common culture, a pond or basin affords an opportunity of growing some of the more showy aquatics, while jets, drooping fountains, and other forms of displaying water, serve to decorate and give interest to the scene. Besides choice aquatics, the ponds or basins of flower-gardens may be stocked with the gold-fish.

The form of a small garden (Figs. 1 and 2) will

be found most pleasing when some regular figure is adopted, as a circle, an oval, an octagon, a crescent, &c.; but where the extent is so great as not readily to be caught by a single glance of the eye, an irregular shape is generally more convenient, and it may be thrown into agreeable figures, or component scenes, by the introduction of shrubs so as to subdivide the space. "Either a square or an oblong ground-plan," Abercrombie observes, "is eligible; and although the shape must be often adapted to local circumstances, yet, when a garden is so circumscribed that the eye at once embraces the whole, it is desirable that it should be of some regular figure."

Nicol says, "A variety of forms may be indulged in, without incurring censure; provided the figures be graceful, and not in any one place too complicated. An oval is a figure that generally pleases, on account of the continuity of its outlines; next, if extensive, a circle. Next, perhaps, a segment in form of a half-moon, or the larger segment of an oval. But hearts, diamonds, triangles, or squares, if small, seldom please. A simple parallelogram, divided into beds running lengthwise, or the larger segment of an oval, with beds running parallel to its outer margin, will always please." Neill concurs in this opinion.

The author of "Hints on the Formation of Gardens," &c., says, "A symmetrical form is best adapted to such parterres as are small and may be comprehended in one view; and an irregular shape to such as are of considerable size, and contain trees, shrubs, statues, vases, seats, and buildings."

Boundary, fence, or screen. Parterres on a small scale may be inclosed by an evergreen hedge of holly, box, laurel, privet, juniper, laurestinus, or Irish whin (Ulex hibérnica); but irregular figures, especially if of some extent, can only be surrounded by shrubbery, such as we have already hinted as forming a proper shelter for flower-gardens.

Abercrombie says, "For the inclosure, a wall or close paling is, on two accounts, to be preferred on the north side; both to serve as a screen, and to afford a warm internal face for training rare trees. When one of those is not adopted, recourse may be had to a fence of whitethorn and holly," &c.

Rustic fences formed of shoots of the oak, hazel,

or larch, may often be introduced with good effect both as interior and surrounding barriers, as represented above.

THE PLAGUE OF ZURICH.

BY HELEN MAITLAND.

"Where sleep they, Earth? By no proud stone
Their narrow couch of rest is known."

"On the pleasant site of the old Helvetian Thuricum stood the town of Zurich, long renowned for industry, intelligence, wealth not too unequally distributed, and the genuine civic spirit of its burghers. A general and unwearied love of the laws had for ages been the chief support of the government, and the cordial and familiar usages handed down by their forefathers remained in all their simplicity."

Nor were science and art strangers in Zurich. The renowned songsters of those days, the Mennesingers, found hospitable welcome with the principal burghers. And nowhere was greater effect preduced than at Zurich, by the doctrines of Arnold, of Brescia, a scholar of Abelard's, and one of the most acute and inquiring spirits of his age.

But alas for that fair town! alas for that brave and, for the age, enlightened people! The scourge of Asia, the fearful plague, soon saddened the triumphs of Swiss valor, and affixed a stain upon Swiss humanity, which it is difficult to believe could have been so widely spread, even by the superstition of those days.

Our story opens in the midst of the bitter persecution of the Jews, which commenced at the breaking out of the plague; and, unlike most violent popular commotions, continued from year to year, and spread from canton to canton, until that cruelly treated people were almost exterminated throughout Switzerland.

The frightful mortality occasioned by an unknown and mysterious disease was, by their ignorance and fear, ascribed to Divine vengeance, for permitting the outcasts of Israel an abiding-place and many privileges within the walls of their city. This belief prevailed among many of the pious and influential burghers, and was openly encouraged by their fanatical priests. The rabble were not slow in ascribing the awful visitation to a more direct agency, and accused the Jews of poisoning the wells. When we add to the strong impelling motives, religious enthusiasm and fear, the avarice of a few, who coveted the contents of the coffers of the wealthy Jew, however much they might despise the race, we may see how little mercy one of that nation might hope to receive at the hands of his judges and accusers.

But let us return to the city. An unusual crowd might be seen, and a tumult heard, drowning the monotonous rattle of the death-carts rolling through the principal streets. All tended to one point, the

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Franciscan Convent, within whose open court, or rather the open square in front of the building, a pitiless tragedy was soon to be enacted.

Four stakes were firmly driven into the ground, and to each a hapless Jew was chained. Two of them were men bowed down with age and infirmity; and, as their long, white hair floated in the breeze, and their dim and sunken eyes looked in vain upon that sea of scowling faces for some sign of human sympathy, some faint ray of pity, the bitterness of death might be read in the groan which escaped from their trembling lips. The third was a youth; and, in the erect form, eagle eye, glancing ever and anon with an expression of bitter, burning hate upon his ruthless foes, one might see the high-souled victim of oppression. The chains which bound him to a cruel death had eaten into his soul like a canker. Had he lived in his nation's palmy days, before the curse of the God of his fathers had passed upon the people, he would doubtless have been one of their chosen warriors. The fourth-shame upon the sight!was one of Israel's loveliest daughters, charged with the double crime of witchcraft and poisoning.

Fagot upon fagot was piled around the victims, and more than one willing hand was ready to apply the torch. The piles around the old men were kindling, and the eager crowd pressed more closely, until at length the barrier was broken down, and the outer stake, to which the Jewess was fastened, completely surrounded. A curious observer might see that the men who pressed so earnestly forward were all in the prime of life, and, by their strength and size, fitted to make their way through the dense mass without finding many hardy enough to oppose them. Each wore a heron feather in his cap, the badge of the Earlach family.

More closely they crowded around the stake; one sprang forward, and, with a blow of his battle-axe, severed the chain which bound the unfortunate girl; another threw a large cloak over her, and she found herself rapidly carried along between two powerful men, while a third walked in front, very unceremoniously making way for those following, by the free use of an arm that might have felled an ox without any great apparent exertion on the part of the gigantic frame to which it belonged.

"How now, Hans ?" exclaimed a man in the crowd, who, by a dexterous dive, escaped no gentle blow in the ribs from the elbow of the person ho 141

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"Or mayhap," exclaimed another, "the yells of the accursed Jews have been too much for his nerves."

"Nerves, in sooth!" repeated Hans, with a snort at the implied sneer, which boded no good to the questioners. "If you do not take yourself out of my way, Sir Apothecary, and let the Lady Anne pass, who has been well nigh squeezed to death in the crowd, I'll soon see what your nerves are made of!"

And, suiting the action to the word, the little man found himself seized and tossed up into the air with as much ease as if he had been an infant, where we shall leave him to alight in the best manner his specific gravity may determine.

They succeeded in getting clear of the crowd before the astonished officials were aware of the escape, or the rumor of so daring a deed had spread among the multitude.

The rescue was no sooner effected than those more immediately connected with the enterprise took care to be elbowed out in their turn, and were soon so mingled with the crowd, it was impossible to say who had been the actors. The badge of the Earlach family, so conspicuously worn, was enough to preserve them from suspicion: the old hero of Laupen being the principal accuser of the young Jewess. His complaint was that his only son had been bewitched, and nearly carried to perdition, by her unholy arts. This son, young Rudolph, of Earlach, was confined to his bed by illness, the effect of this alleged witchcraft.

Our story bids us take a retrospect, and inform the reader how Zillah became placed in such deadly peril.

Prior to the breaking out of the plague, the Jews were suffered to carry on their traffic in Zurich, not only in great security, but were encouraged to do so by the grant of many privileges, which they did not enjoy in the neighboring cantons. The father of Zillah was one of the richest and most influential rabbins of his tribe, and had lately returned with rich merchandise from the East, accompanied by his only child, young and surpassingly beautiful.

She had been tenderly, nay, even luxuriously brought up, in the secret chambers of her father's house; and, like most of the educated women of her race, in mental and personal accomplishments was far superior to the young females among the more favored Christians. Knowing from childhood there could be no community of feeling between her despised people and the outer world, she was thrown back upon her own heart and mind for whatever might interest or occupy her genius or affection. She had been carefully instructed by her mother in the contents of their Holy Books, as well as in the traditions of their elders; and to this learning was added the mental wealth of precious manuscripts,

coveted by the wise of many nations, but too rare to be obtained save at immense expense. The old Jew, seeing his daughter's thirst for knowledge, sought, in all his wanderings, to return with something that might please and interest her.

And well did Zillah repay his care; she grew up like the stately palm-tree, not more beautiful and graceful to behold than rich in all the deep and kindly feelings of woman's heart.

The degradation of her nation, her own isolated situation-her mother had died before they left their Eastern home-all pressed painfully upon her heart, and gave to her countenance a touchingly subdued expression. None ever looked into those deep, dark, thoughtful eyes without a longing desire to gaze again; and, when to their spell was added the witchery of her low, flute-like voice, and the ever-varying expression of her lovely face, which, like a mirror, reflected the feelings of her heartthe difference of faith, even in those days, might well be forgotten.

And thus it was with brave old Earlach's son. Soon after Zillah arrived in Zurich, she accompanied her father in an excursion from the city to some neighboring towns; and, whilst ascending a rugged pass among the mountains, her mule fell and she was thrown. The young Earlach was ascending the same path, and, acting upon the impulses of a warm and generous nature, rendered her such assistance as the case required. Struck with her exceeding beauty, the grateful expression of those soft eyes haunted him; and excuses were not wanting, from time to time, to enable him to look again and again upon that face, which was soon to work such woe to one or both.

The absence of old Ben Hassen, her father, favored the meeting of the young people; and though on one side, at first, the feeling was entirely that of humble gratitude, mingled with surprise that a Nazarene could feel aught of interest in a Jewess, this feeling gradually gave way to one of a tenderer nature. Though lips spake not, the young Rudolph, of Earlach, or, as we shall call him, young Earlach, was not slow to read in the downcast eyes and changing cheek, whenever he appeared before her, that his devotion had not been unheeded or unfelt.

Occasionally, a pang of reproach would wring his heart, and he determined to see Zillah no more; but, sleeping or waking, her image was ever before him, and after one or two ineffectual struggles, the future was lost sight of in the enjoyment of the present. Not unfrequently, he indulged the hope of making her his bride, and fleeing to some distant land with her until the wrath of his father had passed over, or, as he whispered to himself, with all the sophistry of a lover, until she had been won by him to his purer faith. It was whilst pondering these things he found himself at the door of the Franciscan Chapel, which was thronged with sup

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