therein the framework of a neat miniature greenhouse, thus described upon a board affixed to it :

B. WHEELER'S

FIVE-GUINEA GREENHOUSE,

GLAZED, PAINTED, AND FIXED,

COMPLETE.

I grieve, when I pass, to think how many a true but poor florist has stopped to read, and sigh. I rejoice, when I pass, to believe that many a poor but brave florist has stopped to read, and has gone home to save-has come, and seen, and conquered.

A few of the structures, which I was invited to inspect, were of fair dimensions; here a carpenter, and here a bricklayer, and there a glazier, had made his handicraft subserve his amusement; but the accommodation, as a rule, was meagre, and I could hardly believe that the grand Roses which we had just left could have come, like some village beauty out of her cottage dwelling, from such mean and lowly homes. But there were the plants, and there were the proprietors, showing me proudly the stems from which such and such favourites were cut, and pointing

to various healthy and handsome rose-buds, which, though belonging to junior branches of the family, gave promise of equal beauty.

How was it done? De l'abondance du cœur-from a true love of the Rose. "It's more nor a mile from my house to my garden," said one of these enthusiasts to me, "but I've been here for weeks, in the winter months, every morning before I went to my work, and every evening when I came from it, and not seldom at noon as well, here and back, and my dinner to get, between twelve and one o'clock." "How do you afford," I inquired from another, "to buy these new and expensive varieties?" and I would that every employer, that every one who cares for the labouring poor, would remember the answer, reflect, and act on it. "I'll tell you," he said, “how I manage to buy 'em—by keeping away from the beershops!"

From a lady who lives near Nottingham, and goes much

among the poorer classes, I heard a far more striking instance of this floral devotion than from the florists themselves. While conversing with the wife of a mechanic during the coldest period of a recent winter, she observed that the parental bed appeared to be scantily and insufficiently clothed, and she inquired if there were no more

blankets in the house. "Yes, ma'am, we've another," replied the housewife; "but" and here she paused.

"But what?" said the lady.

"It is not at home, ma'am."

Surely, surely it's not in pawn?"

"Oh dear no, ma'am; Tom has only just took it-just took it"

"Well, Bessie, took it where?"

"Please, ma'am, he took it-took it-took it, to keep the frost out of the greenhouse; and please, ma'am, we don't want it, and we're quite hot in bed."

They ought to be presented with a golden warmingpan, set with brilliants and filled with fifty-pound Bank of England notes.

I took my leave of the brotherhood at last, delighted with their gardens and delighted with them, but not much delighted with myself. I seemed to have been presiding as Lord Chief-Justice in a court, wherein, had merit regulated the appointments, I should most probably have discharged the duties of usher. I had been enthroned as Grand Master of a Rosicrucian Lodge, when I ought to have been standing at the door as tiler; and as I carried away a glorious bouquet of Roses, with their "best respects to the Missus,"

I felt ashamed to think how little I had done, and how much more such men would do, with my larger leisure and more abundant means. But when I reached the station and entered my carriage, I was roused from my reverie by a loud and prolonged "OH!" which greeted me from five of my acquaintances, as though I had been an asteroid rocket, which had just burst, and the Roses were my coruscant stars : and I was beginning to regain my self-complacency, and to find solace in the remark of one of my neighbours, who, I knew, had glass by the acre and gardeners in troops, that “they were the first Roses he had seen this year,” when I was again discomfited by the insolent behaviour of the company-on this wise. To an inquiry from what garden the Roses came, I responded, in all truthfulness,

Chiefly from a bricklayer's." Whereupon an expressive sneer of unbelief disfigured each stolid countenance; and a solemn silence ensued, which said, nevertheless, as plainly as though it were shouted, "We don't admire tomfoolery." I collapsed at once into my corner, sulking behind my big bouquet, and looking, I fear, very like the Beast when he first showed himself among the Roses to Beauty; nor did I quite regain my equanimity until, reaching home, I had written and posted an order for an assortment of Roses in pots.

These Nottingham florists are equally successful in the outdoor culture of the Rose. On the 4th of July 1870, I attended, as one of the judges, the annual exhibition of "The St Ann's Amateur Floral and Horticultural Society," at Nottingham. The Society consists of artisans, occupying garden allotments in the suburbs of Nottingham, and justly prides itself on having developed a taste for gardening among the working classes. Nearly eighty prizes for Roses alone, varying in value from two guineas to two shillings, were offered, and closely fought for. The Roses were excellent, the interest and excitement of the exhibitors were intense. The winners (so I learned from their president, Mr Knight, well chosen to preside over working men, for he was untiring and ubiquitous in his shirt-sleeves) were twisthands, shoemakers, tailors, mechanics, &c. He talked to me, con amore, of their devotion to their gardens and their glass. How they carried their bags of coal through the deep snow, and how early in the morning, and late at eventide, they robbed themselves of rest for the Rose.

I rejoiced both to see and hear. I have always believed that the happiness of mankind might be increased by encouraging that love of a garden, that love of the beautiful, which is innate in us all. Get a man out of the dram and