one of the tranquil hours of twilight, when the deep shade falls, for all the fictitious sentiment and brilliant display of a ball room, or a convivial party. He can, at once, commune with higher powers, and, in every succeeding year, as the shadows of evening draw in more closely on his fading vision, and external sounds fall more faintly on his ear, his nature will approximate more to the simplicity and purity of innocence. No painful retrospect of duties neglected, of broken faith, of sanguinary battles, no fears of the deep curse which rests on him who has injured the widow and the fatherless, disturb the evening of his days. Rather than have the fame and expire like poor Napoleon, with "tête d'armée" upon his lips, he would prefer the happy style of the good Abbott Boniface, who, raising his feeble eye to the falling dews, exclaimed, "what a fine dropping morning for the early colewort."

And now, with this enlivening touch from the wand of the great magician of the north, we shall turn with zeal to our task-that of pointing out the merits of the quaint old book prefixed to our title page, and to show the necessity of encouraging some able pen to write a good work on horticulture to suit the present time-one that will not only treat of the operative part, but also of the theoretical. We say theoretical, but we must be understood to mean theory deprived of jargon and technicalities; such an elucidation of the theory as that any gentleman farmer can comprehend it; including in the term theory the physiology of plants.

This work of M. De la Quintinye is a small folio, and now very scarce. It is one of great merit, every word of which deserves to be studied; for if the difference of climate renders his rules regarding planting of little avail, excepting in our eastern states, yet the whole is mingled with excellent hints and judicious advice. His thoughts and opinions are so quaintly expressed, and with such raciness, spirit, and truth, as well as simplicity, that the work forms a rich treat both to the man of letters and the horticulturist. When we consider, likewise, that it was translated from the French by John Evelyn, he himself claiming a large portion of our respect and gratitude for his own admirable works, we feel assured that we are conferring a favour on all lovers of the art by making this work of De la Quintinye known. We say making it known-for the book is so old and so rare that few of our readers may know any thing about it.

There is no doubt of the fact that trees will grow in any soil of moderate depth; more rapidly and luxuriantly, certainly, if planted in a deep rich loamy soil having a clay bottom, but always serviceable and ornamental wherever they may be placed, provided the necessary care is bestowed on them.

spite of neglect and hard usage, in spite of impoverished soil and ungenial climate, fruit trees will grow and attain a good size, although the fruit may be neither large nor finely flavoured. De la Quintinye, who was a man of science as well as a practical gardener, assures us that he has been so entirely misled in the character and quality of a pear, the tree being advantageously placed both as to soil and warmth, that he was induced to graft from it, although one which after a trial he was previously obliged to discard as worthless. If poor fruit is thus made sensibly better by a favourable location, what may we not promise ourselves from really good fruit grafts under similar treatment and position.

Climate and soil operate beneficially or injuriously on every thing that has life, and in no way is it so apparent as in vegetable life. This must be obvious to all, for plants have not the power of locomotion, and are, therefore, entirely dependent on the situation in which they are placed. With animals the case is different; injudiciously as they may be placed, they still have the power of modifying the evils of their situation. They can move to a more moist or drier spot, to shade or sunshine, to heat or cold; and they have certain modes of making their wants known. With a knowledge of these facts, we should study the nature and habits of a plant before we commit the violence of removing it from its native bed. We should, at least, render its new home as nearly similar to that whence it was taken as possible.

Experience has convinced us that greater importance should be attached to the practice of trimming and shaping young trees whilst still in the nursery. This was a point that could not be well urged a few years ago, as the art was then in its infancy, and we had but little knowledge. Trees should certainly receive their first and best pruning in the nursery, for here, in this department of horticulture, it is that error first proceeds-error that clings to the tree throughout its brief life. For the want of previous instruction, the purchaser mangles and disfigures, instead of improving it. He hacks and hews all branches indiscriminately, not knowing that there are such mysteries as bearing and unbearing buds. He has never heard of a fruit spur-how should he, therefore, know it from a barren lateral twig? He cannot tell a fruit bud from a leaf bud, nor a water sprout from a sucker.

Does an ignorant man understand why young trees, which are generally deprived of many of the fibrous roots when dug up from the nursery beds, cannot bear to have their branches shortened when newly set out in an orchard? If a man who designs to plant trees to obtain fruit, would only teach himself all this and it is soon learned-he would know that it is better VOL. XXI.-No. 42.

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to cut out whole limbs, nay, the vertical limb itself, than to shorten the branches of young trees that are just transplanted. If there be any exception to this rule, it is in the case of pear trees that we plant in deep rich soil with clay bottom. Our experience in this matter is of long standing, for we have had extensive orchards under our own care, and of our own planting. Those trees purchased from nurseries presented a miserable contrast to those of our own grafting; the latter of which received their shape and best trimming a year before transplanting, but, after transplanting, the limbs were never shortened.

The reason of this is apparent; a newly transplanted tree with lacerated roots, is not in a condition to receive nutriment from the soil immediately. The tree, therefore, has to depend on the different joints, or articulations, for all the nourishment necessary to sustain life until new roots come out. For it should be known to horticulturists that there is always a reserve of proper juices, or cambium, at every joint of the tree, and around the base of every leaf and fruit bud. As the roots of the young tree are torn and debilitated, they can do nothing more than imbibe through their spongelets the mere fluid parts of the sap; whilst the nutritive parts are kept back, and do not enter these spongelets. This fluid mass mixes with the reserved cambium-thus diluting it, and, of course, no vigour can be imparted to the extremities that this sap reaches. All that the feeble power of the roots can effect, is to elevate this diluted mass, and thus sustain life until it can recover from the shock and form new roots.

If the limbs of a young tree be shortened when it is newly transplanted, the instinct of vegetation stimulates it to the same exertion as when it was firmly rooted. The consequence is, that all the efforts of the tree will be directed to the formation of new limbs on the shortened extremities. As nothing but simple fluids is carried up the sap vessels so called, the assimilatory and other proper juices, which are in a state of elaboration at each articulation, are, as we before observed, very much diluted, having received no other accession of nutritive matter than what simple water conveys.

If the bark of a tree is wounded, nature forces certain secretive matter to the part, that the injury may be repaired; in a short time, therefore, the bark is restored. If we shorten the limbs of a tree, the same process commences ; the sap, with the diluted juices, is sent to the extremities as is usual when wounds are to be healed, and when limbs are to be lengthened. But when the sap reaches the amputated parts, as it has no further conducting medium, it forces itself against the buds that are nearest the ends; and thus it happens that so many weak, spindling twigs shoot out at the ends of the branches

injudiciously cut off. Instead of having only one or two limbs to supply, the roots are compelled to furnish food for the enlargement and nourishment of a great number, without having a sufficient supply for the purpose. If the whole limb is cut off closely to the tree, without leaving any ring, or swelling at the base, no buds can be found, and, consequently, no other effort is necessary than to renew the bark, or rather to cover the amputated part with new bark.

Two operations are going on in a newly planted tree; the first is an elevation of fluid matter to the shortened extremities for the formation of lateral branches; and the second is the lateral transmission of a suitable fluid to the shortened or bruised roots. The same process is carried on below as above ground; we perceive that, if a branch or limb is shortened, it never grows again, but that several new ones spring out from those buds nearest to the amputated parts. It is the same case with the roots; if they are bruised, or cut off when taken from their beds in the nursery, they never grow again. Nature is obliged to repair the mischief by forcing out new roots at right angles with those that were removed. A twofold disturbance, therefore, takes place in the economy of the tree, if both limbs and roots are bruised or shortened. It will be the true policy to cut off a few of the small limbs close to the tree, if the roots have been much injured.

We are thus minute on this point, because such utter recklessness is shown both in removing trees from nurseries and in trimming them when in orchards. If it is understood that great care is necessary in the removing and pruning of trees, and that it is not a haphazard affair, to be left to unskilful hands, those who intend to cultivate them will at least learn so much of the art as not to injure when they mean to do good.

It would be in the power of nurserymen to give all the necessary advice if they allowed themselves more time, but the generality of them are in such haste to sell that they cannot do justice to themselves or their patrons. Some of them feel very much injured if a purchaser complains that the trees are unthrifty and misshapen, and turn out differently from the fruit ordered. Those only who have orchards can tell how great an evil it is, when trees for which a great price is given, and which have been nursed with great care for many yearssome kinds requiring six or seven years to arrive at maturity— produce mean and worthless fruit.

We do not say this to injure that valuable class of horticulturists-the nurserymen-on the contrary, it will be of permanent benefit to them if we show where they are at fault-a fault which has arisen as much from the ignorance and impa

tience of the purchaser as from the desire of immediate gain in the nurseryman. That we may receive an equivalent for our money, and keep men in the strict line of their duty, we should ourselves be tolerably well acquainted with the business and the services we exact of them. No man, let his station in life be what it may, if he intend to plant trees, should be ignorant of what constitutes a well-shaped thrifty tree. Nor should he be satisfied with the mere enjoyment of the delicious juices of a peach, plum, or pear; he should at least know the names of what gives him so much pleasure.

The "famous" De la Quintinye had the greatest affection and reverence for a tree. In describing the position in which it should be placed in a well laid out garden, he refers to it as if it were possessed of animal life. He apologizes to them individually, as if they could feel and be mortified when he places one before the other, giving his reasons for his partiality in the most kind and conciliatory manner. In a garden that will only admit of twenty-four pear trees he places the winter bon-chretien first, not only on account of its antiquity, but that "this pear was one of the first that by its singular excellence gained the admiration and courtship of the world. The great monarchies, principally that of old Rome, having known and cultivated it under the name of crustumium volemum, so that in all appearance it made a noble figure among those conquering people in the magnificent entertainments they usually made, as well to set out the splendour of their triumphs as to do honour to the tributary kings who often came to pay their homage to those masters of the world."

He then proceeds to speak of the peculiar merits of this pear; and although three folio pages are occupied with a description of it, yet all he says is so new, so fanciful, yet so just, that we are carried along unresistingly, and think that not one word could be left out. We feel tempted to make extracts, but there is still so much to say that we forbear, and proceed to his choice of the second pear for his little garden, first informing those who are selecting fruit for their orchards, that the bon-chrêtien in our country is not deserving of the high encomiums bestowed on it by M. De la Quintinye. Perhaps it would stand higher in our favour were it not that two other pears ripen at the same time, so far superior as to throw this one in the shade. Of these pears we shall presently speak.

"Now let us see upon what pear tree our choice will fall to be the second dwarf pear, both of a garden so small as to allow of but two, and in a garden where a great number are required; for truly it is a point not easy to decide."

"We have, above all the rest, six different sorts of pears that put in briskly for this second place; nay, and which can hardly