“A happy rural seat of various views;Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm;Others whose fruit, burnished with golden rind,Hung amiable, and of delicious taste:Betwixt them lawns—or the flow’ry lapOf some irriguous valley spread her store.”—Par. Lost.
“A happy rural seat of various views;Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm;Others whose fruit, burnished with golden rind,Hung amiable, and of delicious taste:Betwixt them lawns—or the flow’ry lapOf some irriguous valley spread her store.”—Par. Lost.
“A happy rural seat of various views;
Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm;
Others whose fruit, burnished with golden rind,
Hung amiable, and of delicious taste:
Betwixt them lawns—or the flow’ry lap
Of some irriguous valley spread her store.”—Par. Lost.
If such a place, it required care to rear the tender—to check the luxuriant—correct the irregular—to support the burdened—extirpate the noisome weed—and repulse the browsing animal. Such was the only occupation of the first gardeners: for in those highly-favoured spots, those natural paradises, (some of which still remain in India,) where the groves which formed the habitations also supplied the simple food of the inhabitants; where the cocoa-nut48, with its various liquors, abounded;[p263]where the date, the mango, tamarind, and lime dropped in profusion into the hand; where the melon tribe upon, and the nutritious yam beneath the surface of the bountiful soil, were all spontaneously supplied without care, and without toil:—in such circumstances, neither sagacity to contrive, nor ability to perform, were necessary, further than collecting and preserving those spontaneous gifts of nature.
But population increased; and when mankind became translocated to regions less favourable to vegetation, and where the spontaneous productions of the earth were insufficient for their subsistence, then the business of the planter and cultivator became a necessary occupation; and hence gardening would begin to assume a systematic form.
As improvements, and the times in which they took place, have descended together in continuous and collateral streams, the narration may be divided into three periods, viz.:—From the earliest ages to the beginning of the sixteenth century;—from the beginning of the sixteenth century to the end of the seventeenth;—and from that period to the present time.
We have already hinted at what were probably natural, or aboriginal gardens: the account is so far feasible from the fact, that such places and productions may be met with on the peninsula of India, at the present day: true it is, they cultivate rice, and some few inferior plants, where they have opportunity, and use them along with their wild fruits; but when they cannot procure these cultivated necessaries, (which sometimes happens,) they must rely on the natural productions. It is necessary to add, that some of the castes, from religious principle, abhor the use of almost any kind of animal food; and, therefore, vegetables are their sole support.
From Egyptian and Jewish history, we learn that gardens[p264]were an appendage of the palaces of their princes, and other great men, for personal solace and gratification; but how far the art was systematized, either in knowledge or practice, history is silent. Throughout the Assyrian, Babylonian, Persian, and Macedonian empires, we learn but little more than that ornamental gardening was carried to an extravagant height in their artificial formation; insomuch that one of the Babylonian princes built what were called “hanging gardens,” that is, a vast and lofty pyramidal structure on arches, arcades with terraces surmounted by other arcades, and carried up in gradations to a great height. The terraces being planted with the choicest trees, presented to the distant spectator a verdant hill of foliage in the midst of a large city, and lifted the sovereign proprietor far above the noise and intrusive notice of his vassals below; at the same time, yielding him all the sweets, seclusion, and quiet of the country, even in the purlieu of his palace! The idea of such an ornamented and elevated structure for a mighty sovereign was certainly sublime, and far surpassing all that has been yet done (though it has been suggested by Mr. Loudon) in the western world; and though only a monument of wealth and personal pride, prompted by conjugal regard, and entirely artificial, was certainly proper for the place where it stood, worthy of the prince who erected, and the extensive empire to which it belonged.
Throughout a long-following period, and up to the time of the Romans, we learn nothing particular respecting gardens, only, that among the Jews, they had gardens for herbs, vineyards, and even gardens for cucumbers: but as frequent allusions are made to them, it is probable that gardening had then become a distinct calling, as we find it was among the Romans, as soon as their extensive conquests were secured.
As the arts and arms of the Romans went together, no doubt a very wide circulation of all that was known of gardening in Italy, was transferred thence. Their writers on rural affairs preferredagritohorticulture; but their sound knowledge of the former shews no inconsiderable share of acquaintance with the principles of the latter; and as their practice, as well as the seeds of their products, would be introduced wherever the climate permitted, it is more than probable they[p265]laid the foundation of British gardening. The rules and examples left by them, were probably continued, with occasional accessions to the stock both of practice and production, throughout the Heptarchy, the domination of the Saxons, Danes, and Normans: but these troublous times were not favourable to the prosecution of the arts of peace; and it is not likely much advancement in the art took place until the Norman power was fully established; and even then their castellated mansions precluded any extensive adaptation of garden, from the necessity of forming the glacis, for the greater security of the baronial hall: and though it is probable that, at this time, not a dwelling, from the regal palace to the cottage, but had a garden of some size or other, yet the best practice was confined to the monasteries, and other religious corporations of those days, all over Christendom. Their education and leisure, their foreign intercourse, their interest in the tithes, and their love of superior vegetables and condiments, on the many days they were restricted from indulging in the consumption of animal food, all contributed to incline the monks to prosecute gardening on the most approved plans. Thus, Italy, Spain, and Germany became famous for their superior culinary vegetables, as France was for improved fruits; indeed, when war depopulated or devastated a country, and when the gardens of the château became a sacrifice to offensive or defensive operations, and when the potageries of the hamlets were trodden under foot and destroyed by a licentious soldiery, the gardens of the religious houses were often spared, and, consequently, many roots and fruits found there an asylum, which was denied them in less privileged places.
In looking over the lists of plants cultivated in those days, we find the names of a great majority of the common sorts now in use, as well culinary, as for the table or the press, with a great addition of physical plants, it being then a prevalent supposition that remedies for all the ailments of the human frame were existent in the vegetable kingdom, if they could be detected; the cultivation and gathering of simples, therefore, was a business which employed many heads and many hands: even the Corinthian pillars of the noble profession of physic were not entirely free from that malaria, which was generated in the fumes of the herbalist’s shop![p266]
Ornamental gardening had hardly showed its graceful head; the little that had been done of this in England, was only in imitation of the Italian school, though without their accompaniments of splendid architecture, classical sculpture, and costly fountains. Such a style, in the near neighbourhood of a palace or mansion, is imposing and suitable, but the outskirts of such gardens, which should have been gradually blended with and into the free and beautiful forms of nature, were bounded and deformed by tortuous labyrinths, by complicated folds of nicely-clipped hedges, involving each other for no purpose than affording seclusion from the “licentious eye,” or a “maze to the intruding foot.”
It may be observed as somewhat unaccountable, the excellent taste of their landscape painters was never transferred from the canvass to their style of ornamental gardening. But so it was: the people who had all kinds of assistance from artists of the first order, and from classical and picturesque association within their own territory, long remained blind to what was so natural and so manifestly within their reach!
In useful and profitable gardening, the fine climate of Italy gave great facility for successful cultivation of a profusion of the finest fruits, and being an advanced post for the reception of all valuable plants from both Asia and Africa, it much sooner than other European countries possessed culinary vegetables in great variety, and of salad-herbs a numerous list.
From the commencement of the sixteenth century the improvements in gardening began to take the form of a system. The increasing splendour of the English court, during the reigns of the virgin queen and her father, and the princely establishments of some of her courtiers, called the art of gardening into notice and repute, and gave an impulse to the yet dormant powers of horticultural practicability. Continental artists were generally employed in laying out the greater works. The sum of their professional ability was chiefly geometrical, an exact knowledge of straight lines, squares, and curves; they could line out a polygonal basin to a hair’s breadth, and construct a many-tiered jet d’eau in the midst. Such, however, were the principal features admitted into, and which constituted the style of those days, and continued through that and the succeeding[p267]century. In the latter (the seventeenth), and during the domestic broils which then convulsed the kingdoms, gardening appears to have been, as to style, almost stationary. In the mean time, however, the Reformation had been silently working salutary effects, not only in the deliverance of men from a servile religious thraldom, but also from the dogmas of precedential custom, and by imbuing them with a spirit of independence with respect to others, gave, what was better, aself-dependencein exertion, whether of mind or action; and, after a few years of revolutionary excess, and abuse of this inestimable acquisition of mental freedom, at last, in 1688, settled down into that rational state of composure, which, with few interruptions, has happily remained to the present day.
Then it was that gardening, in all its branches, was patronised and encouraged. Tournefort in France, and Ray in England, enlightened the public by their description, enumeration, and classification of plants. Evelyn called attention to the usefulness and national value of forest trees; several authors developed the mysteries of kitchen-garden and orchard management; collections of exotic plants were made, and glass-cases built for their reception; floriculture received a share of the gardener’s attention; and in short, there seemed to be, about this time, a general movement by united exertion to gain what had been previously neglected, and complete what had been only feebly attempted.
The accession of William and Mary to the British throne very naturally introduced Dutch gardening and architecture. The old Italian and French styles received very little, if any, amendment. The avenue, the canal, the rectangular clumps and borders, the shelves and slopes, the terrace, with its stairs, were all maintained and extended, the whole surrounded by exactly-clipped hedges, and bedotted with fanciful and unnaturally cut trees. This expensive and ridiculous fashion had its admirers for a time, but at last fell into disrepute, not by a bull or anathema, but chiefly by the keen sarcasm of a Pope!
Kitchen-gardens were improved by additional brick-walls for the more delicate kinds of fruit, as vines, figs, peaches, nectarins, apricots, &c. Hot-beds were in general use, and, many hot-houses were erected for different kinds of the above[p268]as well as for the pine-apple. In those days our fruit-lists contained twenty sorts, of which there were many varieties. Of culinary vegetables there were, of roots eighteen, of shoots four, of leaves fourteen, of flowers three, of seeds three, of pods two, and of herbs for all purposes twenty-five.
From that period, the commencement of the eighteenth century, every succeeding year brought forth new objects of the gardener’s care, and improved operations for his imitation. The acquirements of natural science, radiating from such a character as Sir Hans Sloane, whose theories were imbibed and confirmed by the practical abilities of Philip Miller, were, at that time, like the orb of day bursting from behind a cloud! Scientific light and practical life were shed on all around, and the foundation was then laid, by their united means, on which has been raised almost all the varied structure of modern horticultural improvement. It would be impossible, as needless, to give the names of the authors, who, from this period, showed themselves in print on the subject of gardening, for, were the respective merits of their literary labours noticed, and the successive discoveries and advances chronicled, the amount would be voluminous indeed. But the following celebrated names cannot, in justice to their memories, be omitted. The great Linnæus was deservedly at the head of the botanical branch of gardening; Miller, with his satellites, Gordon, Lee, and Aiton were at that of practical botany, as well as of all the other parts of operative gardening; and, as a leading orchardist, Kennedy, and many others on miscellaneous subjects, produced respectable directories and kalendars.
The improvement of ornamental gardening kept pace with that of the more useful. Soon as the old style of rigid formality had been exposed, it was exploded; more refined principles of taste prevailed; its outlines became better defined; it was found that there are certain fixed principles in nature, on which the elements of true taste are naturally (not capriciously) founded; that delight and gratification to the eye, or mind, can only arise from the harmony and fitness of the combinations of art or design; that the sensations of beauty and sublimity can only be conveyed by congruous associations of parts to the whole; and that the incidents found in[p269]conjunction in nature, should be the objects of imitation of the gardener’s, as they had long been that of the painter’s art, with this exception, that in the immediate vicinity of the mansion as much of the old style should be retained as will harmonize with the necessary artificial façade of the architecture; but soon as departed from these creations of art, let then appear the varied flow of nature’s devious garb.
The art of painting had, in the best schools, proceeded on such principles, and the formation of real scenery was improved from what was so prominent in the fictitious. Some painters, even Claude Lorraine himself, have occasionally erred, from what may be calledexuberance of design, in producing extreme effect, by introducing lights which never can be seen by day or night, at dawn or twilight; by trees which never existed, and by forms49which had only an imaginary existence. Landscape gardeners, too, in the transition from the tame to the more natural style, have run into error, by imitating admirable incidents frequently seen in nature’s works, forgetting that their value springs entirely from their having happened by chance, but, as works of art, lose all their interest, and become insignificant.
We are now arrived on the confines of our own times, of which we will take a general view, and which will sufficiently show the accumulated assemblage of horticultural objects, productions, and knowledge; and which will also give, what was proposed, a comparative survey of the extent of our improvements.
And first, as to the highest department, Botany. Before the sexual system of Linnæus was fairly established, (though it spread far and wide by the literary labours of Hudson, Lee, Curtis, and several other able contemporary writers, both in England and on the continent,) defects were found in it, and not only as to the terms of distinction, but also to its bringing together, in the classification, plants which appeared, from their[p270]exterior habit and qualities, to have no natural affinity to each other. This Linnæus was aware of himself, and left some fragments of a natural arrangement, but which he did not live to complete. This, or the idea of it, however, was taken up by Jussieu, a French botanist, and completed as far, perhaps, as it can be; and though, in our present botanical publications, both systems are continued, yet it is likely that Jussieu’s simplified system will, in time, supersede the other, though the curious fact on which that of Linnæus was founded will never be forgotten, because of its practical use in the amelioration of fruits. Botanical publications, under the various names of Hortuses, Floras, Monographs, and of every country and district under the skies, and since the promulgation of Jussieu’s system, monographs, under the titles of Geraniaceæ, Cistineæ, &c., flow in periodical floods from the press, crowd the bookseller’s shelves, and thence find their way to every elegant drawing-room in the kingdom.
This additional call on the business of the press, as well as upon the talent of the artist, arises from the fashionable and refined bias of the public taste for this rational and delightful study. To extend botanical collections, and the desire to possess every vegetable beauty, pervaded the whole community: hence expeditions to distant lands by collectors; hence the extension and encouragement of nursery business; hence have sprung up chartered societies and associations for the encouragement of botany and gardening all over the realm; so that vegetable beauties and curiosities are now to be seen in British collections, from every region of the known world.
Neither has the occult subject of botanical physiology been neglected; many curious facts connected with the organisation, structure, functions, and qualities of plants, have been ascertained: but still there remains much for the employment of the naturalist’s mind on this difficult subject.
Landscape gardening is not so much “the rage” as it was twenty or thirty years ago: national circumstances, perhaps, may be the cause; but its principles are much better understood. The errors of Kent and Brown, and their followers, have been corrected by the works and writings of Repton, and the critiques of Knight and Price, whose theories have been[p271]carried into practice by Loudon and others; and nothing will prevent the universal adoption of their principles, but the difficulty of giving the foreground fromhome walksthe extreme degree of ruggedness so much admired, and even indispensable to the painter. Fern, (unless we can introduce some uncommon foreign variety,) burdock, kexes, cannot be admitted into dressed ground; nor have we any plants in cultivation which would well answer the purpose; true, we have the rhubarb, one or two sorts of thistles, eryngiums, palma Christi, and gourds with their ample leaves: but these would only appear intruders, and misplaced: but much may be done by a judicious disposition of our common shrubs, so as to conceal the traces of the spade and line, and give all our combinations of land, wood, and water that flowing character, which is so true to nature, and so pleasing to the refined eye of taste.
Floriculture, which has been imported from France and Holland, is also intensely followed about London, as well as in our manufacturing provinces. Authors have creditably appeared in this line too; and our annual blows of flowers, both home-cultivated and imported, are at once rich and costly. Tulips, hyacinths, narcissuses, ranunculuses, and anemones, are the principal bed flowers: but roses, stocks, dahlias, chrysanthemums, and even poppies, are out of number. Flowering shrubs, both within and without doors, are eminently rich and various, and astonish as much by the splendour of their colours as by their elegant forms and number.
Orcharding has declined during the last fifty years: first, because of the gradual deterioration of the trees, and precariousness of the crops; next, from the improved way of agricultural labourers’ manner of living. This change renders the use of small cider and perry less necessary in a farm-house, causing an increased consumption of malt liquor; and this again, occasioning a greater demand for barley, at once pleases both the farmer and the Chancellor of the Exchequer. Thus the cultivation of orchard fruit (except cherries50) has greatly fallen off; and the decayed state of the old, and difficulty of[p272]raising new orchards, has given a check to such exertion, except in places at a distance from the metropolis, where orchards have suffered less from decay, and where the habits of the cider drinkers are more inveterate. Mr. Knight, the President of the Horticultural Society, has written copiously on this subject, and very properly considers the cultivation of orchard fruit as a national object; and by his example has done as much, nay, much more, than any other gentleman in the kingdom, to restore our orchards to what they used to be, and what they may be,—and it is hoped his excellent instructions will not be thrown away.
Kitchen-gardening, the most important and useful branch of the subject, next demands attention; and here we are gratified with a fine display of the efficacy of perseverance, the success of experience, and the triumphs of skill. In every month of the year, in spite of the winter’s frost or summer’s sun, our tables are supplied with wholesome and agreeable vegetables:—of roots we have fourteen sorts; of stems, shoots, and leaf-stalks, seven; of leaves, eight; of flowers, four: of culinary fruits we have sixteen; of seeds and pods, six; of condimental herbs we have twenty-nine; and of herbs and seeds for confections there are seven, besides various fruit: of roots, leaves, flowers, and fruit, for salads, there are in cultivation twenty-two kinds; and various sorts of plants for medicine and distillation.
Of table-fruit there are above twenty different species, and of these numberless varieties, extending to several hundreds, or even thousands, of various excellency and value.
A few tropical and foreign fruits, not included in the above, have been cultivated in tolerable perfection in Europe within these few years, viz. the Chinese loquat and litchee, the custard apple, mangosteen, and mango, &c.; and there is no doubt, if these fruits could be worked on some hardier kindred stock, and a suitable place formed for them in a stove, they might be cultivated with the same success as the anana.
In the forcing department of gardening, wonders have been accomplished. By this application of art, we appropriate to ourselves an almost perfect imitation of any of the warmer[p273]climates: heat, that powerful agent in the development of vegetation, we can have in any degree, by stoves, by fermenting substances, and from the steam of boiling water: light, a no less necessary agent in the maturation of fruits, we combine with the former, by glazed houses and frames.
The various expedients for obtaining the necessary degree of heat, are, first, the most simple method of a stove, with its flue passing through or round the floor of the house, and this for warming the air within; but in this case, as the roots of the plants do not sufficiently, it is supposed, receive the proper degree of heat, various fermenting substances, as recent stable-yard dung, tanners’ bark, oak and other leaves of trees, &c. are formed into beds, on which the compost of earth is placed, as in hot-bed frames, or in which the pots containing the plants are placed, or plunged, as in a hot-house. To obtain the same effect, borders within houses are formed for the roots, having an excavated heat-chamber beneath, supplied by simple stove flues, or from the fermenting substances above named, or from steam admitted for the purpose. This mode of supplying an equal degree of heat to the roots, as well as to the leaves and branches of a plant, is plausible, and cannot be far wrong, because it has been attended with success: but there is, perhaps, more attributed to it than it deserves, because the region or stratum of the soil, which is naturally occupied by roots, differs, in respect of temperature, much less over the whole surface of our globe, than is commonly imagined. The heat of the air in different latitudes ranges from several degrees below zero to 110 degrees of Fahrenheit’s scale; but the temperature of the earth eighteen inches below the surface, it is probable, does not vary more than ten or fifteen. In England spring water varies only two degrees, viz. from 42 degrees in summer to 40 degrees in winter; and the effects of our hardest frosts very rarely penetrate deeper than nine inches; but it is necessary to observe, that, in such cases, as well as in hotbeds, weforceas well as defend; and probably, by such mode of applying heat and moisture, nutritious gases may be communicated, which may be no small advantage. Besides, the atmosphere of the house can (as is done) be impregnated with the same qualities and degrees of heat and humidity[p274](a most necessary accompaniment51,) which may be generated below.
Light is a most potent agent in the maturation of vegetables: united with a moderate degree of cold, it is much more effectual in progressive vegetation, than the necessary degree of heat with darkness. Exposure to light is indispensable to plants: and, therefore, our glass cases are formed to admit as much as possible. Within these few years, the endeavour to gain an accession of light by reducing the dimensions of the wooden scantling of hot houses suggested the idea of metallic frames; and for the concentration of the sun’s rays, horizontal as well as vertical curvilinear roofs have been constructed. Lightness to the eye, durability, imperceptible expansion, and glazed with panes, cut like segments of circles, to facilitate the passing off of condensed water, with complete command of ventilation, are an assemblage of properties, always as desirable as necessary; and as they may be cast in the most elegant forms, and protected by paint, they add greatly to the ornament of the garden. Beautiful as these buildings are, some little disappointment has taken place respecting them: it has been experienced, that the intensity of the sun’s light, or heat, has been found detrimental to the tender inmates, and that shading is as necessary in bright, as light is in cloudy weather. Certain it is, that in the winter season, when light and heat are most desirable, no fear need be entertained from this circumstance; and it ought to be considered, that in our summer, we have at least, daily,four hoursmore sun than intertropical plants have at home: of course, they have less time for their evening’s repose, (which all plants more or less require); besides, it should be thought of, that all plants are not equally formed to sustain such a blaze of light; “some affect the sun and some the shade;” such as the pine-apple52, and orange, which require “a warm[p275]shade;” and perhaps all plants which present a large reflecting surface of foliage to the sun, are content with a smaller share of his direct rays. These observations attended to, sun-shades may be applied for occasional use, and with the plants at a proper distance from the glass, will certainly secure them from all the inconvenience of such buildings, while none of the advantages are lost.
The kitchen-garden range of buildings includes pine-stoves, vineries, houses for peaches, and nectarines, figs, and cherries, hot-walls, pits for succession pines, melons, cucumbers; besides store pits for roots, tender vegetables, salading, &c., as well as frames for many purposes of cultivation. Mushrooms are usually raised in sheds behind the houses. The hot-houses are also used for growing early culinary vegetables, and small fruits in pots.
[To be continued.]
48The cocoa palm is rather a gigantic herb than a tree: the stem rises to a great height, of a strongly tough fibrous substance, but never so indurated as timber, though it is used in the construction of houses. It has no branches; but is crowned with from five to seven ample compound leaves, forming an umbrella-like head. The spatha issues from the centre, and soon falls pendent between and below the footstalks of the leaves, where it flowers and ripens the fruit. The nut is enveloped in a thick brown fibrous husk, which opens to shed it when fully ripe. The nut, when opened, yields two liquids, which are nutritious, and accounted delicacies: the first is the milk which runs out; the next is the cream which is procured by being scooped off the kernel with a spoon: this is of thick consistence, and much resembles the cream of milk. After these remains the perfectly-formed layer of kernel attached to the shell, and which is used along with the liquids as an article of food. But another most pleasant beverage, called toddy, is obtained from this palm, and which constitutes the chief value of the plant. The fruit is sacrificed to procure this; soon as the frond becomes pendent, the extremity is cut off, and a narrow-necked vessel is slung thereto to receive the streaming sap. This, both before and after being fermented, is an agreeable and refreshing drink. It also yields an ardent spirit by distillation, but of which the natives deny themselves the use.49In Martin’s painting of the Paphian Bower, though a fine composition, the roots of the tree, on the left of the foreground, are too much out of the ground. The accidental exposure of roots on the bank of a stream, or high-road, and their buttress-like departure from the trunk, are legitimate objects for the pencil; but their ramifications pourtrayed on the surface of the ground, is as ridiculous as unnatural.50It is said that many of the Caroon cherries brought to Covent-garden market, are bought up for the purpose of colouring wine on the Continent.51The admission of humidity into forcing-houses is attended by the most salutary consequences: it counteracts the bad effects of fire-heat, and is inimical to many insects. For this purpose, a steam-supplying apparatus is added to the best-constructed hot-houses, productive of the greatest advantages.52It has long been observed by gardeners, that the pine-apple always does best in forcing-pits, merely from the circumstance of there being more shade.
48The cocoa palm is rather a gigantic herb than a tree: the stem rises to a great height, of a strongly tough fibrous substance, but never so indurated as timber, though it is used in the construction of houses. It has no branches; but is crowned with from five to seven ample compound leaves, forming an umbrella-like head. The spatha issues from the centre, and soon falls pendent between and below the footstalks of the leaves, where it flowers and ripens the fruit. The nut is enveloped in a thick brown fibrous husk, which opens to shed it when fully ripe. The nut, when opened, yields two liquids, which are nutritious, and accounted delicacies: the first is the milk which runs out; the next is the cream which is procured by being scooped off the kernel with a spoon: this is of thick consistence, and much resembles the cream of milk. After these remains the perfectly-formed layer of kernel attached to the shell, and which is used along with the liquids as an article of food. But another most pleasant beverage, called toddy, is obtained from this palm, and which constitutes the chief value of the plant. The fruit is sacrificed to procure this; soon as the frond becomes pendent, the extremity is cut off, and a narrow-necked vessel is slung thereto to receive the streaming sap. This, both before and after being fermented, is an agreeable and refreshing drink. It also yields an ardent spirit by distillation, but of which the natives deny themselves the use.
49In Martin’s painting of the Paphian Bower, though a fine composition, the roots of the tree, on the left of the foreground, are too much out of the ground. The accidental exposure of roots on the bank of a stream, or high-road, and their buttress-like departure from the trunk, are legitimate objects for the pencil; but their ramifications pourtrayed on the surface of the ground, is as ridiculous as unnatural.
50It is said that many of the Caroon cherries brought to Covent-garden market, are bought up for the purpose of colouring wine on the Continent.
51The admission of humidity into forcing-houses is attended by the most salutary consequences: it counteracts the bad effects of fire-heat, and is inimical to many insects. For this purpose, a steam-supplying apparatus is added to the best-constructed hot-houses, productive of the greatest advantages.
52It has long been observed by gardeners, that the pine-apple always does best in forcing-pits, merely from the circumstance of there being more shade.
WEwill not positively assert that no one except Mr. Faraday could have written this book, but we are of opinion that there are very few chemists adequate to such a task, which has manifestly required a considerable share of practical skill, much deep and theoretical knowledge, and no small degree of patience and perseverance, more especially shown in the clearness of the details, and the perspicuous manner in which he has managed to describe prolix and difficult processes. The work moreover fills up a chasm in chemical literature, by embodying almost all that is important relating to chemical manipulation scattered through the writings of others; while the author’s extensive experience has enabled him to correct their faults, and to present the student and operator with many new and important facts and processes, by which the researches of the laboratory are most essentially facilitated.
Such is our general opinion of the treatise before us, and we are persuaded that those who are capable of appreciating its merits will agree in our decision; but it is not so easy to[p276]substantiate our judgment by quotations, in consequence of the general didactic character of the book, and the mutual dependence and connexion of its different parts. We shall attempt, however, to give the general reader an outline of its contents, and point out such parts to the chemist as we conceive particularly useful and worthy attention.
The importance of readiness and dexterity in the performance of experiments has been duly estimated for more than a century. The writings of Black, Cavendish, Priestley, and especially Scheele, as opposed to those of their predecessors, show that they had acquired considerable facility in attaining, by simple and economical means, those ends which had before consumed much time and much expense in their accomplishment: but it is only of late years that the refinements of manipulation have been carried towards perfection; and the researches carried on in the laboratory of the Royal Institution have been not a little conducive to this improvement: to no one, however, is this part of the science more indebted than to Dr. Wollaston, whose skill in what may be called microscopic chemistry is consummate, and who has a host of humble but industrious imitators. So essential, indeed, is the attainment of correct methods of manipulation to the progress of chemical science, that many entire trains of research are exclusively dependent upon it for success. It is true that it must always be subordinate to genius and invention; yet the person who could only devise, without knowing how to perform, would comparatively be able to lend little aid to the extension and usefulness of knowledge: and were it not an invidious task, we might be able to show that some of the greatest discoveries and improvements of the science have originated in dexterity of experiment, rather than in profundity of design. By tact, therefore, in manipulation, a considerable advantage is gained, independent of that resulting from an acquaintance with the principles of the science; and this is so considerable, that, of two persons of equal talent and information in other respects, he who is the best manipulator will soon be in advance of the other; the one will draw just inferences with accuracy and rapidity, while the other will be lost in doubt, and often led into error. Mr. Faraday has pointed out several other cases of prominent advantage, arising from skilful manipulation, especially when very small quantities of matter are to be operated upon, and where accurate conclusions are of more than ordinary importance, as in testing for arsenic and other poisons on judicial occasions. When the substance under examination is rare,[p277]as often happens, the facility of working with small quantities is also of much importance, as otherwise the opportunity of gaining information may be lost, or only retained at great expense. “There existed,” says our author, “in the British Museum a small fragment of a black stone, the source and history of which was unknown: it was unique, no other specimen being in the Museum, or known to be in existence; yet as it presented some peculiar characters, Mr. Hatchett was induced to examine it, and, working with a portion of the stone weighing not more than two hundred grains, he was enabled to discover in it a new metal, which he distinguished, by its various characters, from all those previously known, and which he named Columbium. Ekeberg afterwards discovered a metal, which he named Tantalium, conceiving it to have been observed and distinguished for the first time by himself; but Dr. Wollaston, who examined it, and compared it with columbium, was able to identify it with that metal, although he had not more than five grains of the stone from the British Museum upon which to make his experiments.”
In short, there can be but one opinion respecting the first-rate importance of expertness in manipulation, and neatness, dexterity, and efficacy of experimenting. These are the subjects to which the present volume is directed, and which will, therefore, form a valuable accompaniment to the more general and systematic works. They are discussed under the following generalheads:—
The description of a laboratory is followed by two long and well-written sections on the arts of weighing and measuring, in which the account of the methods of determining specific gravities, and of the general management of a delicate balance, are well deserving the student’s attentive perusal: indeed, there are no operations which are more frequently performed in a slovenly and careless manner, than those in which scales and weights are concerned; and we should advise the tyro to sit down with his balance and this book before him, and practise the manipulations which it explains.
The fourth section, on the sources and management of heat, is devoted to the construction and management of different kinds of furnaces, lamps, blowpipes, thermometers, and pyrometers, and abounds in useful hints, and in the details of[p278]practical information; and the same remark applies to the succeeding sections on comminution and solution—indeed, we were surprised at finding so much to be taught in regard to these very simple operations. The seventh, eighth, and ninth sections treat of distillation and sublimation, precipitation, and filtration. Here, and indeed throughout the work, the wood-cuts are particularly distinct and well executed. In the section on crystallization, the uses of that process are enumerated; and to this succeeds an account of evaporation. All these operations are extremely well investigated and described, both as to their principles and as to the most proper means of effecting them; a number of curious circumstances are pointed out, by which their results are influenced, and by which certainty and success may be insured.
The uses of coloured tests are explained and illustrated in the twelfth section. Of coloured liquids the author chiefly recommends the infusion of red cabbage; and as it is not only a very good test for private experiments but of excellent service to the public lecturer in rendering certain changes of composition visible to an audience, it may be worth while extracting the directions for preparing it.
“583. The only substance of the kind, perhaps, worth keeping in solution, is an acid infusion of red cabbage. For its preparation, one or more red cabbages should be cut into strips, and boiling water poured upon the pieces; a little dilute sulphuric acid is to be added, and the whole well stirred: it is then to be covered and kept hot as long as possible, or, if convenient, should be heated nearly to boiling, for an hour or two, in a copper or earthen vessel. The quantity of water to be added at first should be sufficient to cover the cabbage, and the sulphuric acid should be in the proportion of about half an ounce of strong oil of vitriol by measure to each good-sized plant. This being done, the fluid should be separated and drained off, and as much more hot water poured on as will cover the solid residue, adding a very little sulphuric acid. The whole is to be closed up, and suffered to stand until cold, and then the liquid poured off and added to the former infusion. The cabbage may now be thrown away. The infusion is to be evaporated to one half or one third its first bulk, poured into a jar, allowed to settle, and the clear red fluid decanted and preserved in bottles. The residue may have water added to it, the solid part be allowed to subside, the clear liquor drawn off, evaporated and added to the former, or it may be dismissed altogether. This solution will keep for a year. When[p279]required for use, the acid of a small portion of it should be neutralized by caustic potash, or soda, (not by ammonia,) when it will assume an intensely deep blue colour, and will, in most cases, require dilution with twelve or fourteen parts of water. The red liquor of pickle cabbage will, occasionally, answer the uses of the solution, and is, when required for service, to be neutralized in a similar manner.”
“583. The only substance of the kind, perhaps, worth keeping in solution, is an acid infusion of red cabbage. For its preparation, one or more red cabbages should be cut into strips, and boiling water poured upon the pieces; a little dilute sulphuric acid is to be added, and the whole well stirred: it is then to be covered and kept hot as long as possible, or, if convenient, should be heated nearly to boiling, for an hour or two, in a copper or earthen vessel. The quantity of water to be added at first should be sufficient to cover the cabbage, and the sulphuric acid should be in the proportion of about half an ounce of strong oil of vitriol by measure to each good-sized plant. This being done, the fluid should be separated and drained off, and as much more hot water poured on as will cover the solid residue, adding a very little sulphuric acid. The whole is to be closed up, and suffered to stand until cold, and then the liquid poured off and added to the former infusion. The cabbage may now be thrown away. The infusion is to be evaporated to one half or one third its first bulk, poured into a jar, allowed to settle, and the clear red fluid decanted and preserved in bottles. The residue may have water added to it, the solid part be allowed to subside, the clear liquor drawn off, evaporated and added to the former, or it may be dismissed altogether. This solution will keep for a year. When[p279]required for use, the acid of a small portion of it should be neutralized by caustic potash, or soda, (not by ammonia,) when it will assume an intensely deep blue colour, and will, in most cases, require dilution with twelve or fourteen parts of water. The red liquor of pickle cabbage will, occasionally, answer the uses of the solution, and is, when required for service, to be neutralized in a similar manner.”
For test-papers, litmus and turmeric are the most essential, and several precautions in preparing and using them are here pointed out, which, though apparently trivial, are, in fact, extremely important in insuring correct conclusions. We transcribe a part of the account of the applications of these coloured papers, as a specimen of the clear minuteness with which the details of the work are given, and as a sample of the author’s general method and style, where subjects of much greater intricacy are to be explained.
“591. In using these test papers with a fluid suspected to contain free acid or alkali, or knowing that one of these substances is predominant, to ascertain which is so, all that is necessary is to moisten them with the liquid, and observe the change: if the fluid be acid, the blue colour of the litmus will immediately become red; if alkaline, the yellow colour of the turmeric will be changed to a brown. The moistening may be effected by dipping the paper into the liquid; but a better method is to touch the edge of the slip with a rod dipped in the fluid. In the latter case there is no risk of contamination to the fluid from the paper, and only a very minute quantity of the liquid is used at once.“592. These trials must be made by day-light; artificial light not permitting that just estimation of the changes by which the presence of a small excess of acid or alkali is to be determined. As the proportion of free acid or alkali diminishes, the intensity of the new tint produced upon the paper is also diminished; and when in very small quantity, it requires considerable attention before a decision can be arrived at. The test paper should occasionally be touched with pure water in the immediate neighbourhood of the part where the solution has been applied, for any change in appearance that may have occurred, not due to mere moistening, is then readily perceived.“593. Although acid is generally tested for by litmus paper, and alkali by turmeric paper, yet the former is sometimes used advantageously for the latter purpose, being first slightly reddened, either by exposure to the air, or by momentary contact with muriatic acid fumes. When the[p280]paper thus modified is used to detect a free alkali, instead of turmeric paper, that substance is indicated by the restoration of the original blue colour. Litmus paper is best slightly reddened for this use, by putting a drop or two of muriatic acid into a large jar, allowing it to stand a few minutes, and then bringing the paper towards the mouth of the jar, or carefully placing it within: so soon as the blue tint has become slightly reddened, the paper should be removed for use. If too much acid be imparted to the paper, the delicacy of its indications is injured, because of the greater quantity of alkali required to neutralize the acid, and restore the blue colour. For the same reason a paper free from alkali or carbonate of lime has been recommended for the preparation of these tests: for these impurities, combining with a minute portion of acid, neutralize it, and thus prevent that delicacy of indication which the test paper ought and may be made to possess.”
“591. In using these test papers with a fluid suspected to contain free acid or alkali, or knowing that one of these substances is predominant, to ascertain which is so, all that is necessary is to moisten them with the liquid, and observe the change: if the fluid be acid, the blue colour of the litmus will immediately become red; if alkaline, the yellow colour of the turmeric will be changed to a brown. The moistening may be effected by dipping the paper into the liquid; but a better method is to touch the edge of the slip with a rod dipped in the fluid. In the latter case there is no risk of contamination to the fluid from the paper, and only a very minute quantity of the liquid is used at once.
“592. These trials must be made by day-light; artificial light not permitting that just estimation of the changes by which the presence of a small excess of acid or alkali is to be determined. As the proportion of free acid or alkali diminishes, the intensity of the new tint produced upon the paper is also diminished; and when in very small quantity, it requires considerable attention before a decision can be arrived at. The test paper should occasionally be touched with pure water in the immediate neighbourhood of the part where the solution has been applied, for any change in appearance that may have occurred, not due to mere moistening, is then readily perceived.
“593. Although acid is generally tested for by litmus paper, and alkali by turmeric paper, yet the former is sometimes used advantageously for the latter purpose, being first slightly reddened, either by exposure to the air, or by momentary contact with muriatic acid fumes. When the[p280]paper thus modified is used to detect a free alkali, instead of turmeric paper, that substance is indicated by the restoration of the original blue colour. Litmus paper is best slightly reddened for this use, by putting a drop or two of muriatic acid into a large jar, allowing it to stand a few minutes, and then bringing the paper towards the mouth of the jar, or carefully placing it within: so soon as the blue tint has become slightly reddened, the paper should be removed for use. If too much acid be imparted to the paper, the delicacy of its indications is injured, because of the greater quantity of alkali required to neutralize the acid, and restore the blue colour. For the same reason a paper free from alkali or carbonate of lime has been recommended for the preparation of these tests: for these impurities, combining with a minute portion of acid, neutralize it, and thus prevent that delicacy of indication which the test paper ought and may be made to possess.”
The mode of determining the value of alcaline substances, or “alcalimetry,” is described at length in this section. Our readers, however, will here recollect that there is an error respecting the specific gravity of the acid, which Mr. Faraday has corrected at page 221 of the present volume of this Journal. The thirteenth section is allotted to crucible operations, and the fourteenth to furnace tube operations. They are full of minute and admirable instructions, evidently deduced from long experience, and detailed with the same precision and clearness which we have already eulogised. The fifteenth section, which occupies nearly a hundred pages, relates to “pneumatic manipulation, or management of gases.” Every paragraph of the instructions here given will be found to contain something of importance to the student; it is, indeed, a valuable essay upon a difficult and nice department of chemical research.
Under the head “Tube Chemistry,” in the sixteenth section, a variety of means are pointed out, of working with and employing glass-tubes, as substitutes for more expensive and formal apparatus. Indeed, the young chemist cannot do better than practise the art of bending, drawing out, and sealing tubes, as here directed, (and in the nineteenth section,) by which he will soon gain the requisite dexterity in forming them into test tubes, retorts, and so on, and be enabled to furnish his laboratory with a quantity of very useful vessels and apparatus, at a very moderate expense.
The application of electricity to chemical purposes forms the subject of the seventeenth section, in which the[p281]management of electrical machines and apparatus is described, and the circumstances necessary to facilitate investigation and insure success are pointed out. To this succeed the management and composition of lutes, and a chapter on bending blowing, and cutting glass.
Cleanliness, order, and regularity are of the utmost importance in the laboratory; and though the appearance of the chemist himself is often such that he appears “to doat upon dirt,” the strictest nicety must generally be observed in the state of his utensils and apparatus. These matters must, indeed, generally engage his personal attention; and it is not sufficient that glasses and other vessels be merely washed and wiped in the usual way, but they are generally required to be free from the minutest portions of adhering matter. A section is accordingly appropriated to the subject of cleanliness and cleansing, in which, and in that which follows it, entitled “General Rules for young Experimenters,” much information is conveyed that will prove useful to those who are commencing the practice of experimental inquiries in chemistry, and also to such as, having made some progress, have indulged themselves in slovenly habits. Macquer’s observations on this subject, as quoted by our author, are so much to the purpose, and so well deserving the serious attention of the young chemist, that we shall stand excused for inserting them in this place. He says, “A persuasion must exist that arrangement, order, and cleanliness, are essentially necessary in a chemical laboratory. Every vessel and utensil ought to be well cleansed as often it is used, and put again into its place; labels ought to be attached to all the substances, mixtures, and products of operations which are preserved in bottles or otherwise; these should be examined and cleansed from time to time, and the labels renewed when required. These cares, although they seem to be trifling, are, notwithstanding, the most fatiguing and tedious, but the most important, and often the least observed. When a person is keenly engaged, experiments succeed each other quickly; some seem nearly to decide the matter, and others suggest new ideas; he cannot but proceed to them immediately, and he is led from one to another; he thinks he shall easily know again the products of his first experiments, and therefore he does not take time to put them in order; he prosecutes with eagerness the experiments which he has last thought of, and in the mean time the vessels employed, the glasses and bottles filled, so accumulate that he cannot any longer distinguish them; or at least he is[p282]uncertain concerning many of his former products. This evil is increased, if a new series of operations succeed, and occupy all the laboratory; or if he be obliged to quit the place for some time, every thing then goes into confusion. Hence it frequently happens that he loses the fruits of much labour, and that he must throw away almost all the products of his experiments.