south of Ireland, and among others Fota Island, the residence of Mr. Smith Barry, where I found a capital illustration of what may be easily effected with hardy plants alone. Here an island is planted with a hardy bamboo (Bambusa falcata), which thrives so freely as to form great tufts from 16 ft. to 20 ft. high. The result is that the scene reminds one of a bit of the vegetation of the uplands of Java, or that of the bamboo country in China. The thermometer fell last December (1870) seventeen degrees below freezing point, so that they suffered somewhat, but their general effect was not much marred. Accompanying these, and also on the margins of the water, were huge masses of Pampas grass yet in their beauty of bloom, and many great tufts of the tropical-looking New Zealand flax, with here and there a group of Yuccas. The vegetation of the islands and of the margins of the water was composed almost solely of these, and the effect quite unlike anything usually seen in the open air in this country. Nothing in such arrangements as those at Battersea Park equals it, because all the subjects were quite hardy, and as much at home as if in their native wilds. Remember, in addition, that no trouble was required after they were planted, and that the beauty of the scene was very striking a few days before Christmas, long after the ornaments of the ordinary flower-garden had perished. The whole neighbourhood of the island was quite tropical in aspect; and, as behind the silvery plumes of the Pampas grass and the slender wands of the bamboo the exquisitely graceful heads of the Monterey and other cypresses and various pines towered high in the air, it was one of the most charming scenes I have yet enjoyed in the pleasure-grounds of the British Isles. And this, which was simply the result of judiciously planting three or four kinds of hardy plants, will serve to suggest how many other beautiful aspects of vegetation we may create by utilising the rich stores within our reach.

Clumsy mass of Cannas in a London park.

We will next speak of arrangement and sundry other matters of some importance in connection with this subject. The radical fault of the “Subtropical Garden,” as hitherto seen, is its lumpish monotony and the almost total neglect of graceful combinations. It is fully shown in the London parks every year, so that many people will have seen it for themselves. The subjects are not used to contrast with or relieve others of less attractive port and brilliant colour, but are generally set down in large masses. Here you meet a troop of Cannas, numbering 500, in one long formal bed—next you arrive at a circle of Aralias, or an oval of Ficus, in which a couple of hundred plants are so densely packed that their tops form a dead level. Isolated from everything else as a rule these masses fail to throw any natural grace into the garden, but, on the other hand, go a long way towards spoiling the character of the subjects of which they are composed. For it is manifest that you get a far superior effect from a group of such a plant as the Gunnera, the Polymnia, or the Castor-oil plant, properly associated with other subjects of entirely diverse character, than you can when the lines or masses of such as these become so large and so estranged from their surroundings that there is no relieving point within reach of the eye. A single specimen or small group of a fine Canna forms one of the most graceful objects the eye can see. Plant a rood of it, and it soon becomes as attractive as so much maize or wheat. No doubt an occasional mass of Cannas, etc., might prove effective—in a distant prospect especially—but the thing is repeated ad nauseam.

The fact is, we do not want purely “Subtropical gardens,” or “Leaf gardens,” or “Colour gardens,” but such gardens as, by happy combinations of the materials at our disposal, shall go far to satisfy those in whom true taste has been awakened—and, indeed, all classes. For it is quite a mistake to assume that because people, ignorant of the inexhaustible stores of the vegetable kingdom, admire the showy glares of colour now so often seen in our gardens, they are incapable of enjoying scenes displaying some traces of natural beauty and variety.

The fine-leaved plants have not yet been associated immediately with the flowers; hence the chief fault. Till they are so treated we can hardly see the great use of such in ornamental gardening. Why not take some of the handsomest plants of the medium-sized kinds, place them in the centre of a bed, and then surround them with the gaily-flowering subjects? The Castor-oil plants would not do so well for this, because they are rampant growers in fair seasons, but the Yuccas, Cannas, Wigandias, and small neat Palms and Cycads would suit exactly. Avoid huge, unmeaning masses, and associate more intimately the fine-leaved plants with the brilliant flowers. A quiet mass of green might be desirable in some positions, but even that could be varied most effectively as regards form. The combinations of this kind that may be made are innumerable, and there is no reason why our beds should not be as graceful as bouquets well and simply made.

However, it is not only by making combinations of the subtropical plants with the gay-flowering ones now seen in our flower-gardens that a beautiful effect may be obtained, but also with those of a somewhat different type. Take, for instance, the stately hollyhock, sometimes grown in such formal plantations as to lose some of its charms, and usually stiff and poor below the flowers. It is easy to imagine how much better a group of these would appear if seen surrounded by a graceful ring of Cannas, or any other tall and vigorous subjects, than they have ever yet appeared in our gardens.

Consider, again, the Lilies, from the superb, tall, and double varieties of the brilliant Tiger lily to the fair White lily or the popular L. auratum. Why, a few isolated heads of Fortune’s Tiger lily, rising like candelabra above a group of Cannas, would form one of the most brilliant pictures ever seen in a garden. Then, to descend from a very tall to a very dwarf lily, the large and white trumpet-like flowers of L. longiflorum would look superb, emerging from the outer margin of a mass of

Anemone japonica alba. Type of fine-flowered herbaceous plant for associating with foliage-plants.

subtropical plants, relieved by the rich green within; and anybody, with even a slight knowledge of the lily family, may imagine many other combinations equally beautiful and new. The bulbs would of course require planting in the autumn, and might be left in their places for several years at a time, whereas the subtropical plants might be those that require planting every