tions which we possess, are to be found in the Italian states; but, while the gardens of the peasants are only scantily supplied with gourds and Indian corn, the arts of horticulture are but languidly pursued even by the wealthy; and it is only in the gardens attached to religious houses, that we see any remains of the taste of former times. In Russia, the practice of gardening was first introduced, along with many other improvements, by Peter the Great; but it does not seem to have taken deep root, and is indeed almost exclusively confined to the higher classes.* In the adjoining kingdoms of Poland and Prussia, the peasantry have not much more taste for gardening than their less civilized neighbors. Cabbages and potatoes are almost the only vegetables which their little plots produce; but the case is different with their superiors, who raise garden productions in great variety and abundance.

France, particularly in its northern provinces, and the neighborhood of the metropolis, is distinguished by the attention which is frequently paid to the neatness of the garden grounds, and the success with which the art is cultivated. But, above all the continental nations, the palm must undoubtedly be assigned to the Dutch, and the inhabitants of the Netherlands. Throughout these countries, as has been justly said by Sir William Temple, "gardening has been the common favorite of public and private men, a pleasure of the greatest, and a care of the meanest, and indeed an employment and a possession for which no man there is too high or too low."

The early intercourse of Spain with the New World, created a taste in that country for horticultural pursuits, and has been the means of diffusing over Europe many useful plants, from Mexico, Chili, and Peru. In Mexico, indeed, the natives were remarkable for the ingenuity of their garden cultivation; and their chinampas, or float

* "Horticulture has attained to a high degree of perfection in Russia, among its princes and nobles; and it is a curious fact, that more pineapples are raised in the immediate vicinity of St. Petersburgh, than in all the other countries of continental Europe."-Library of Entertaining Knowledge,-Work on Vegetable Substances, p. 206.

ing gardens,* must be considered as one of the greatest curiosities of art ever produced by a semi-barbarous people.

But no where, with the exception perhaps of the Low Countries, is the art of horticulture carried on, among all ranks, with so much spirit and success as in Great Britain. The lowest peasant delights in the labors of his garden; and even the inhabitants of the towns find enjoyment from the cultivation of but a few yards perhaps of soil, which their circumscribed boundaries have spared to them. A taste for shrubs and flowers is universal, especially in the southern districts of England. "The laborious journeyman mechanic," says Mr. Loudon, "whose residence in large cities is often in the air, rather than on the earth, decorates his garret window with a garden of pots. The debtor, deprived of personal liberty, and the pauper in the workhouse, divested of all property in external things, and without any fixed object on which to place their affections, sometimes resort to this symbol of territorial appropriation and enjoyment; so natural it is for all to fancy they have an inherent right in the soil, and so necessary to happiness to exercise the affections, by having some object on which to place them."+

* Humboldt conjectures that the first idea of these floating gardens may have been suggested by Nature herself, seeing that, "on the marshy banks of the lakes of Xochimilco and Chalco, the agitated waters, in the time of the great floods, carry away pieces of earth, covered with herbs, and bound together with roots. The first chinampas were mostly fragments of ground, artificially bound together and cultivated." Following up this suggestion, it would not be difficult, by means of wicker-work, formed with marine plants, and a substratum of bushes, combined with tenacious earth or clay, to construct similar gardens of adequate dimensions. Upon these was placed fine black mould, sufficiently deep for the subsistence of the plants which it was desired to raise. The form usually given to these chinampas was quadrangular, and their size varied from one hundred and fifty to three hundred feet in length, with a breadth of from twenty to seventy feet.”— Vegetable Substances used for Food, p. 207.

† Loudon's Encyclopedia of Gardening, p. 95. 6

III.

IX.

SECOND WEEK-FRIDAY.

HORTICULTURE. THE TURNIP.

AMONG the plants which are cultivated in the garden, as well as in the field, I have elsewhere described two varieties of the leguminous tribe, the pea and the bean. There is another species of esculent vegetable, some varieties of which are raised by the agriculturist, and others by the gardener. I allude to the turnip, with which I shall begin my selection of horticultural produce.

The native country of this useful bulb has not been distinctly ascertained. Both in France and England, plants of the same species are found in a wild state; but, till it be cultivated, it is of little value; and experiments have proved that, in this climate, the indigenous plant cannot, by any mode of culture, be so improved as to be rendered useful. There hangs a mystery, therefore, over the origin of this, as well as several other of our useful cultivated vegetables.

The turnip was familiar to the Romans, and cultivated by them with great care and success. Pliny and Columella agree in considering this esculent as next to corn in utility; and the latter recommends the extended cultivation of it, both as the food of human beings and of cattle. It is supposed that the Roman method of cultivation. must have been superior to that of the moderns, since Pliny relates that some single bulbs weighed as much as forty pounds, a weight double of that obtained by the most skilful modern agriculturist. If this statement can be relied on, it seems to prove something more than mere agricultural skill; for the climate of Italy at present is too warm and dry to be favorable to the growth of this species of produce; and hence it may be fairly inferred, that a considerable change has taken place in the temperature of that country, a fact, indeed, which is established by more direct proof, as I have elsewhere shown.*

*‘Spring,'—Mitigation of Seasons occasioned by Cultivation.

It

is well known that the turnip attains greatest perfection in regions where the climate is moderately cool and moist. Thus, in the north of England, and in Scotland, the crop is superior to that raised in the more southerly parts of the island. It cannot, however, bear a great degree of cold, and the regions bordering on the Arctic circle are, on account of the dryness and warmth of their brief summer, and the rigor of the first part of the year, peculiarly unfavorable to its growth. Its successful cultivation, therefore, in the field, seems to be circumscribed to a comparatively narrow boundary towards the north and south; but, as a garden plant, where luxuriant growth is not required, and would indeed injure instead of improving the quality of the plant for culinary purposes, it is far more extensively raised. At Benares, in Hindostan, a latitude of about 26°, turnips, as well as several other northern vegetables, are raised in considerable quantities; and although, in that hot climate, they lose much of their peculiar flavor, are yet eaten with great relish by the European inhabitants.

The turnip is a biennial plant; but it is not permitted to attain to its second year's growth by those who cultivate it merely for food, as it becomes deteriorated in its edible qualities when it begins to produce its seed-stalk. After surviving the winter, its large radical leaves having fallen off, a stem shoots up which bears flowers, having the four petals arranged in the form of a cross, and hence called cruciform. The varieties, both under garden and field culture, are very numerous ;* while these again differ with soil and climate, and modes of cultivation. The

* In the account of the turnip, published in the Library of Entertaining Knowledge, it is said that ten varieties are in common cultivation, distinguished by color, size, time of coming to maturity, productiveness, or flavor. Among these, the following are particularly noticed :-The Maltese golden turnip, of one uniform orange tinge, perfectly spherical, and of a fine flavor, sometimes introduced with the dessert, instead of fruit; the Swedish, a field turnip, the most hardy of any under cultivation, but strong and harsh to human taste; the French turnip, or naveu, carrot-shaped, which is much esteemed on the Continent for its flavor; and the Barbary turnip, parsnip-like, with fibrous roots, which is prized for its agreeable pungency.

agriculturist seeks to obtain the greatest quantity of nourishment for his cattle in a given space, and therefore selects those kinds which are at once largest in bulk and firmest in texture; the gardener, on the contrary, studies flavor and beauty; which he discovers to be incompatible with great size.

As an article of human food, the turnip does not appear to be held in so much request, nor to be prepared in so many ways, in our own day, as in former times. In the Philosophical Transactions, we are told that during the occurrence of a dearth in England, in 1629 and 1630, "very good, white, lasting, and wholesome bread," was made of boiled turnips, deprived of their moisture by pressure, and then kneaded with an equal quantity of wheaten flour. The scarcity of corn in 1693, led the poor of Essex again to have recourse to this species of bread. It could not, we are told, be distinguished by the eye from a wheaten loaf; neither did the smell much betray it, especially when cold.*

The ancients seem to have excelled in the mode of dressing this vegetable. The Curiosities of Literature' record the following amusing anecdote, which shows to what extent the art of gastronomy enabled the cooks of those days to transform this article of food. The King of Bithynia, in some expedition in which he found himself, in the midst of winter, at a great distance from the sea, took a violent longing for a small fish, called aphy,―a pilchard, a herring, or an anchovy. The longings of monarchs at the head of victorious legions. are not to be disregarded. But what was to be done? His cook, who was a master of his art, and fertile in expedients, surmounted the difficulty. He took a turnip, and cut it to a perfect resemblance of the aphy in shape. He then fried it in oil ;" and being "salted and well powdered with the grains of a dozen black poppies," his majesty's exquisite taste was so deceived by it, that he praised the root to his guest as an excellent fish."†

66

* Philosophical Transactions, Nos. 90 and 205.

+ Curiosities of Literature, vol. v. p. 88.