the rapidity of the fermentation will be so moderated, as to prevent the pabulum of the process, if I may so express myself, from being too soon exhausted. Owing to this state of the green Fern, therefore, the germination of the turnip seed sown over it was begun, and the vegetative process carried on in the plants, in a manner somewhat similar to the effect which would follow were the seed sown in a hot-bed; except that the heat was of a more moderate degree, and, consequently, better suited to maintain the functions of the vegetable economy in the growing plant in a healthy state. The fold and stable manure, on account of the ready formed salts it contained, would, perhaps, promote the germination of the seed and the growth of the plants more vigorously for a short time; but as the process of fermentation would be sooner completed in it than in the green Fern, the supply of heat to the soil would be sooner exhausted, and consequently, that necessary stimulus being withdrawn from the growing turnips on the portion of the field manured with it, the plants over the green Fern would now gain the ascendancy, as they were still supplied with heat; the process of decomposition being yet in activity in the Fern. Again, as the fermentation was altogether over in the completely decayed dung, no heat, or scarcely any, would be extricated from it, and, therefore, the sole benefit which could arise to the germinating seeds and growing plants from this manure, must have proceeded merely from the stimulus of its saline components, and from the carbonaceous matter in a soluble state, which it is adapted to afford. It may be argued, that, as it is probable, the soluble carbonaceous matter afforded by completely decayed dung is the chief part of the food of plants, the turnips raised over this manure should contain more solid contents than those over the other manures, although their growth was less vigorous and luxuriant. That, however, more food is supplied by completely decayed manure, and yet less taken into the system of the plant, may be equally true; for the heat afforded by the more recent manures being absent, the action of the vegetable vessels in the growing turnips would be more languid, and absorption and assimilation consequently less perfect; the presence of the stimulus of heat being as essential as the simple supply of nutriment, for the perfection of the plant. That it is heat only which can be regarded as the agent producing the superiority of the crop of turnips, on the portion of the field manured with green Fern, as detailed in Mr. Knight's experiment, may easily be proved by the thermometer, in a repetition of the experiments. Why, therefore, Mr. Knight may say, has the objector to my ex

planation not maintained the truth of his objections by experiments with that instrument. I reply that, in the first place, my residence in town and my professional avocations, oppose themselves to any experimental attempt of the kind; and, in the second place, that any experiments on my part are unnecessary, as I admit the accuracy of Mr. Knight's experiments, and differ from him only in the conclusions which he has deduced from them. Our premises are the same, but our conclusions are at variance, and, it must remain with others to decide which are the most accurate, and as the discovery of truth is the object of both, the determination will be equally acceptable, whatever may be the decision.

In the supposition that my opinions of the effects of these manures are correct, it would appear, that the most useful manure may be obtained from a mixture of completely decayed stable or fold litter, and green or fresh vegetable matter; or perhaps no manure would be more efficient than green vegetable matter spread under the soil, and a top dressing of salt and soot. The completely decayed manure would produce its effect by affording soluble carbonaceous matter and salts as food and stimuli to the growing plants, whilst the heat extrcated by the fermentation of the green-vegetable manure, would supply a sufficiency of that principle which, in conjunction with air and moisture, is absolutely necessary for rousing into activity the vital energies latent in the seed, and maintaining in the future plant the proper exercise of those functions, which enable it to select and absorb its nutriment from the soil, to carry it through its system of vessels and glands; to concoct and secrete, from it, its proper juices; and finally to assimilate it into its own peculiar living substance. I remain, Dear Sir,

Yours faithfully, ANTHONY TODD THOMSON,

91. Sloane Street, 30th November, 1825.

ART. V. On the Life of a Jobbing Gardener. By Mr. ARCHIBALD M'NAUGHTON, of Hackney.

Sir,

Hackney, 29th Nov. 1825. I AM very glad to see your proposal for a Gardener's Magazine, for I have long thought that the gardeners should have an organ to represent them and instruct them, as well as the farmers and mechanics. I have been upwards of fifty

years in the line, and was one of the first who set agoing the London Gardeners' Lodge, described in your Encyclopædia, though I have long since left it, from not being satisfied with its management. I left Edinburgh in the year 1777, and, after working some time in Mr. Christopher Gray's nursery at Fulham, I got a very good place with a Mr. Rolls, a great stockbroker, whose affairs went wrong after I had been six years with him, and I was obliged to quit. After going down to Scotland to see my friends, I came up again and got a place from Mr. Hare, then a seedsman in St. James's Street, to go to Mrs. Wilson at Putney, where I remained till her daughter married, when her husband having an aversion to Scotch servants, I was obliged to leave. Soon after this, a fellow-workman and myself attempted to set up a small nursery at Epsom, part of which is now occupied by Mr. Young of that place; but, after struggling hard for little more than two years, we were obliged to give up, after losing all we had saved, and about 50%, which my partner had borrowed from his aunt at Kinross, and which preyed so upon his mind, that I verily believe it was the cause of his death, which happened about a year afterwards at Windsor; where he got into a small place to look after a garden, and some fields in which vegetables were grown for sale.

Not liking to go into servitude again, I began jobbing on my own account, and a poor business I have found it ever since. When I first began, the highest wages I could get were 3s. a day, and obliged to find my own tools. I had a good deal of employment at first, partly from the circumstance of being a Scotchman, being called by the people who employ jobbers, a professed gardener. My wife also took up a greengrocer's shop about this time, and we did very well till we lost our only daughter, which obliged us to take in a maid-servant, who let in some fellows into the house one Sunday afternoon when we were at chapel, and took away all my savings, most of my wife's clothes, and concealed the bedding in an outhouse, to be taken away no doubt at night. The maid was never seen again, and we never could hear any thing of the thieves. We now left Camberwell altogether, and both my wife and I took a situation in a small family near Hammersmith, where my wife was cook, and I had a man under me for the garden and for looking after a horse and chaise. This place did not suit, and I advertised for another, and got one in a large boarding-school, which was worse, as my wife was expected to look after the milk of two cows, and I was obliged to assist in brewing. After doing nothing for some time, I began the jobbing again at Paddington, and my wife took in washing; but she

falling ili, we removed to Hackney, on account of the air, where I have been ever since, being just able to gain a livelihood, by laying out the gardens for the new buildings going on in the neighbourhood. I have often been advised to take up a public-house; but besides that my wife is against it as considering it beneath the dignity of her family, I consider that it would be degrading the profession to which I belong if I were to become a publican.

Having now, Sir, given you a short history of my life, you will see what a very poor business a gardener's is, and especially a jobbing gardener's. When I first began it, I was preferred as being considered a regular gardener; but now a labourer who has, perhaps, worked a year or two with some marketgardener is just as much employed, and as well paid as myself; it is true, I have hurt myself much by going into the jobbing line; but what led to that was my vain ambition of being a nurseryman, without having the means. I need not say any thing of the prospects of an old man near 70; my wife is dead, and if the disease which shall carry me off be a lingering one, I have no other prospect than the workhouse. If you think my letter worthy of a place in your Magazine, I hope it will be a warning to gardeners when they are in good situations to keep in them, and not let discontent or ambition prey on their minds so as to make them leave their places for little faults; and, especially, not to let them give up the condition of servitude for the very uncertain one of being in business for one's self. And, especially, let them never give up any place whatever for the condition of a jobbing gardener, for that is greater slavery than being a common labourer.

I am, Sir, your most obedient servant,
ARCHD. M'NAUGHTON,

ART. VI.

On Cultivating a Collection of Grasses in Pleasuregrounds or Flower-gardens. By MR. GEORGE SINCLAIR, F.L.S., H. S., &c. Nurseryman, Author of Hortus Gramineus Woburnensis.

Dear Sir,

A COLLECTION of the different species of grasses arranged in a distinct compartment of the pleasure-ground or flower-garden will be found to constitute one of its most interesting features. It has been justly observed by Sir James Edward Smith in his English Flora, that the grasses afford more sustenance to man and to the larger animals than all the rest of the vegetable kingdom together; their herbage so perpetually

springing, and so tenacious of life, accommodated in one instance or other to almost every climate, soil, and situation, affords to nature her most welcome clothing, and to the cultivator of the soil his chief riches. Nothing poisonous or injurious is found among them. Their farinaceous seed supplies man with the staff of life; in wheat, barley, rice, oats, maize, Holcus spicatus, Holcus cernuus, and in Poa abysinnica. The Cynosurus cristatus, which supplies a most valuable herbage for pasture, has culms too fibrous and wiry to be eaten by cattle; yet these sustain the seed of the plant until winter, and when the snow covers and conceals every other kind of food, these supply the smaller and even several of the larger birds with the means of existence.

The grasses constitute one of the most perfect natural orders of plants, and although humble, and until lately, overlooked by the general observer, consist of upwards of a thousand perfectly distinct species, distinguished from each other by their specific botanical characters, by the difference which exists in the proportions of the constituents of the nutritive matter afforded by each, by the different periods at which their produce attains to perfection, and by the peculiar soils and situations to which the different species are adapted. The observation of these habits and properties, as they present themselves in the progress of growth of the plants, will be found to afford more amusing variety, and perhaps useful and instructive occupation of time, than can be obtained from the cultivation of any other distinct family of plants whatever.

The flowers of the grasses are perfect, and are remarkable for the simplicity and elegance which pervades their whole structure; they will be found to want only examination to excite our admiration that so slender and simple a structure should be productive of such important ends, and capable of receiving upwards of a thousand clear specific shades of variation without in the least affecting its primary essential family character.

As an example of the truth and beauty of the natural orders of plants, the grasses afford the best illustration to the young botanist.

In the botanical investigation of the different species, a high interest is kept up from a consideration of the various properties and separate habits peculiar to each individual species, yet all tending to one great and important end-the support of animal life; from the moth which lives on the Way bennet (Hordeum murinum) to man himself, who, from many species, draws support directly, and, in remote consequences, from the whole tribe. Park in his travels, (Vol. i.