limbs, have never a sufficiency of those juices which assist in the development of fruit.

Perhaps, too, the disease called fire-blight, which is so destructive to exotic pears, may arise from being originally grafted with the scions of a water sprout, the sap vessels of which are larger and weaker than those that are taken from horizontal limbs. But this is thrown out as mere conjecture, though there is great show of reason in it.

No one should plant trees unless he is able to give them the care and attention they require. "Plant trees, my son," said the old Laird of Dumbiedikes, "they will aye be growing whiles you sleep." A rich and valuable hint, and coming from a source to which we are already so largely indebted, it should make a strong impression. But although it is our duty to plant trees, and we feel confident that nature will do much for their preservation, yet they are not to be abandoned entirely to the vicissitudes of the elements, or to their enemies. It is proper that the ignorant should be told that canker will obstruct perspiration-that frosts will blight the flowers-that insects will puncture the bark and fruit-that winds will distort the body and break the limbs, that rains will cause rot and insipiditythat drought will produce premature ripeness and decay; but that man-more destructive by his ignorance and neglect--is worse than canker, frosts, insects, winds, rains and drought.

Many of the accidents and diseases to which a tree is liable, the skilful, well-informed horticulturist can cure. For instance, canker can be removed by lime-washings; and manure well applied will allow the tree to grow rapidly so as to prevent a recurrence of the disease. By allowing the trees to grow low, they will not be twisted about by winds. By cutting out the black warts the nests of the cynips can be utterly destroyed. Trenching will carry off superabundance of water, and a water cart will greatly relieve drought. Above all, common vigilance will prevent the plough from injuring the roots and the lower limbs. As it respects the insects which sting the fruit, and deposit their eggs in the punctured part, we have no remedy to offer, save that of repeatedly shaking the tree, a process which must necessarily be limited to very young trees.

Does not a man, after reading all this, feel that a tree is a thing of life, and that if he undertake the care of one he is responsible for its welfare? He may be assured that he has duties to perform towards the tree that he plants in his orchard as well as to the child in his bosom, the animals in his stable, and the strangers that are within his gates. We shall now proceed to speak of the fruits themselves.

The most suitable apples for the middle states, for purposes of cookery, are the early summer pearmains, the Boston harvest,

the Porter apple, and the lemon pippin. This last mentioned apple, independently of its very great beauty, being, when ripe, of a golden hue, tinged on one side with a faint blush, comes from a tree that is hardy, thrifty, and a great bearer.

The next apple deserving notice is the fall pippin, sometimes called the Holland pippin; it is thus described by Mr. Coxe in his work on fruit trees: "The fall pippin is one of the finest and most beautiful apples of the season, the size is very large, and generally weighs a pound. The form is rather long than flat, the skin is smooth and fair, of a clear, pale, greenish yellow. The flesh pale yellow, juicy, tender, sprightly and finely flavoured, with a delicate perfume. It is a very popular apple for market, and is used both for cooking and for eating. It ripens in October, and keeps well as a fall apple. The tree grows very vigorously, handsomely and spreading, with uncommonly large shoots and leaves."

After these summer and fall apples come the belle fleure, the Esopus Spitzenburgh, the Rhode Island greening, the yellow and the green Newton pippin, the Priestly, and the little ladyapple. Here are a number of very fine apples, but we forgot to mention the Black apple and the Swaur, which latter is often preferred by many people to the Newton pippin. It would take precedence of all winter apples ripening at the same time, if it kept well. Every state throughout the Union has a few standard apples of its own, which the horticulturists love to cultivate ; but here, as in France, what is very fine and juicy in one section of country, is but poor fruit in another.

The apple is subject to fewer diseases than other fruit trees; the black rust, or eanker-which eventually become moss if the tree is hardy enough to live through the cutaneous irritationand the punctures of insects, being its worst enemies. A good white-washing or soap washing will destroy the canker; and if the holes which the insect makes in boring through the bark are filled with hard soap, or turpentine paste, the worm within will perish before it becomes a fly. This insect is called the borer, and the place that it punctures for the purpose of depositing its eggs is easily detected by the appearance of a snuff coloured dust at the edge of the hole. In process of time-three years the tree will be completely girdled, if care be not taken to prevent it.

There would be a great annual profit from the apple tree, if the curculio did not sting the fruit. This insect has increased very rapidly of late years. Under one large apple tree four bushels of apples were picked up, the apples not larger than a small persimmon. Each apple had a worm in it, and as the average number of apples was five hundred to a bushel, here at once were two thousand curculios ready to commit depredations

on this tree next year. These insects crawl from the apple after it falls, and get in the earth, where they burrow deep, below frost. The apples that remained on the tree of which we spoke —it was a Newton pippin-were all more or less stung, and there was scarcely one that did not show a trace of the worm when it was cut open. An apple thus wounded never grows to its full size, and the punctured side is always knotty and indented; and trees which, if it were not for the curculio, would bear from twenty to fifty bushels of apples each, now only average ten and twelve bushels. The fruit, therefore, is not only less in quantity but in quality also, and all caused by the ravages of the curculio; in fact, it is only the young trees that bear fair fruit, for, in a few years, from the dropping of the apples the whole fruit will be punctured.

Manures should never be thrown near the trunk or body of a tree, as is the usual unwise practice. The truth is, that water, soapsuds, litter compost, or stable manure should be dug in a little beyond the area where we suppose the roots to lie. Manures-that is, philosophically speaking, the gaseous fluids which are extricated from manures- -are the nutriment which sustains the plant, and all such should be within reach of the roots, or, rather, the extremities of the roots. The mouths or spongelets (the spongioles of Dr. Dutrochet) of the roots are placed at the extremities of the fibres, and it is to them that manures should be directed; the broadcast method, therefore, is the best for trees. Nothing is gained by throwing manures against the body of a tree but a plentiful increase of suckers, which are nourished by this careless process.

The peach tree is now so generally cultivated that we shall say but little of it, excepting of the diseases which injure it. We must, however, let M. De la Quintinye be first heard, only observing that the peaches of which he speaks are not now known in this country by the same names. Nor is it of importance to point out many by name, as every year produces an endless variety of excellent peaches equal in goodness to the old ones. There are a few, however, which should never be suffered to run out, such as the early Ann, the rareripe, the Malacaton, the lemon cling, the Swalsh, and the late heath.

The fruit of the peach tree in the famous garden at Versailles, which was under the superintendence of the most excellent and scientific De la Quintinye, only ripened when trained against a south wall. In our happy climate-happy in ripening the first fruits--a peach tree shoots up luxuriantly and bears delicious fruit without care, by the road side. Yet difficult as the culture of peaches was, and still is, in certain districts of France, hear how one enamoured of the subject describes the qualities and pretensions of a good peach.

"The excellence of peaches," says De la Quintinye, "consists in the good qualities they ought naturally to have. Of which the first is to have the pulp a little firm, so that it may be just perceivable and no more, and very fine, withal, which ought to appear when their skin is taken off, which skin should be fine, shining, and yellow, without any thing of green, and easy to strip off, which, if the peach be not ripe, will not be the case. This excellence further appears when we cut a peach with a silver knife, which in my opinion is the first thing to be done to it at table by any one who wishes to eat the fruit delightfully and with a true relish. And then we may see, all along where the knife has passed, an infinite number of little springs, as it were, which are, methinks, the prettiest things in the world to look upon. They that open a peach otherwise, oftentimes lose half of the delicious juice."

"The Troy peach follows the avant; it is a wonderful good little peach to stir up in us the idea and remembrance of the excellent ones of the year before."

After enumerating a number of others, in his quaint way, he proceeds:

"The chevereuse, with the pavie rosane, comes in at the beginning of September, and almost at the same time begins the persico, the bellegarde, and a number of others, to supply us plentifully for fifteen days. They are, in truth, an illustrious, charming, and delicious shoal or glut of fruit; the violet peach alone, which, in my opinion, and in the opinion of others greater than myself, is the queen of peaches, and is in itself sufficiently qualified, without the help of any others, to satisfy the whole mind."

Now this is all downright earnest in De la Quintinye; his whole heart was in the subject, and, as he deemed it of the first importance, he could not avoid expressing himself strongly. He was a man of classical attainments; of an ancient noble family; gentlemanly and courteous, and of an amiable disposition. Being possessed of a large fortune, he was able to gratify his tastes by travelling in foreign countries, where his love of horticulture increased as he proceeded. His fame having preceded him, he was invited to the court of Charles the Second, who conceived a great friendship for him. Here he was offered a handsome pension, but he could not be prevailed upon to remain, and immediately on his return to Paris, he was taken into the service of Louis the Fourteenth. He took the entire charge of the king's gardens, and soon produced a salutary change in the art of horticulture, not only in France but in England. He may truly be called the father of modern horticulture; and, on an examination of the greater number of works on this subject, we cannot perceive that any thing new has been added. His

genius grasped at the whole science, both theoretically and practically, and, like all truly great minds he descended to the most minute part of the subject. Modern science has introduced new instruments, and the improvements from microscopic investigations have given additional facts; but greatly has the art been indebted to De la Quintinye, and all our modern writers-one copying from the other-little imagine that to this French writer they owe the greater part of their knowledge. The only wonder is, that every horticulturist has not a copy of this work in his library. But let us hear what further he says of peaches:

"The admirable appears in crowds soon after the middle of September. Ah, mon Dieu! what peaches for colour, delicacy of pulp, abundance of juices, for sugared sweetness, and for a rich, exquisite taste!

"The nivettes, beautifully and marvellously excellent as they are, have the modesty to wait until the admirables are declining before they ripen, and then they show themselves, and, for ten or twelve days, amply recompense the pains of those who plant them in a good place.

"The pavé peaches, the andillas, and the narbons, press earnestly to accompany the nivettes; but for all their beautyand which in truth may be called a painted beauty-those peaches, I say, would do wisely to forbear an attempt that can turn to nothing but their own disgrace."

Of the thirty-two peaches which this learned and curious person enumerates, he discards nine as positively bad, and some of the others, with his right good will, he would erase from the list, if the chasm in the time of ripening could be filled up. He condemns the practice of multiplying the kinds of fruits as strongly as we do, for sooner or later it ends in wearing out the best varieties.

"Oh unlucky and itching humour, thou mayst properly enough be called the daughter of vanity and ignorance, how great a confusion dost thou occasion among fruits! Is it possible that people should not know that a difference of soil, of exposure, of climate, or of the temperature of the seasons, is able to produce those little varieties in fruit which yet are not essential? Notwithstanding which, they have given me an infinite deal of pains to discover the truth."

So easy is it now, to guard peach trees from the injury done. to the roots by the fly called the egesia exitiosa, that, in orchards containing two thousand trees, not more than three or four of these trees were punctured during the summer. As there are two or three generations of these insects in the season, it is proper to search for them at three different periods. An experienced eye can easily detect the place where the fly has VOL. XXI.-NO. 42.

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