The "miniature conservatory" is ever a
cheerful companion, assisting the efforts of the
medical attendant where a cure may be hoped
for, and where it is hopeless, serving to
dissipate the gloom that too often is needlessly
spread over the chamber of sickness and
death. To the unfortunate sufferer from the
country, whom hard fate compels to end his
days in the close town, the ever fresh verdure
may recall the village-green on which he was
wont to sport as a child, and bring vividly
before him the green fields and happy vales
of earlier years; and if separated from those
who are dear to him, he will at least have
some humble friends near, who will smile
brightly at the last!

The presence of flowers at the poor man's
door, and other indications of a love for
nature, invariably bespeak industry and
sobriety. "When we see a plot," observes
an eminent writer, "set apart for a rose-bush,
and a gilliflower, and a carnation, it is enough
for us; if the jasmine and the honeysuckle
embower the porch without, we may be sure
that there is a potato and a cabbage within;
if there be not plenty there, there at least is
no want; if not happiness, the nearest
approach to it in this world—content." Those
who are interested in improving the condition
of the poor would do well to encourage such
taste. In one of the most crowded districts
in the eastern part of the metropolis, some
money was contributed three or four years
since, and applied in the purchase of several
of the closed cases. These were entrusted to
the care of some of the better class of poor,
who not only derived the greatest delight
from them, but made profitable use of them
in the rearing and subsequent sale of plants,
or in the cultivation of salad for domestic use.
A case, constructed of the cheapest materials,
would cost but a few shillings, and a poor
man, to view the matter in a purely utilitarian
spirit, could not make a better investment of
his money. That the lower classes are
frequently inbued with a keen love for the
objects of nature, and experience the purest
pleasure in their cultivation, may be seen by
the following extract from a letter with which
we have been favoured, addressed to Mr.
Ward, by an artisan of Bristol. "I have, with
great pleasure and with greater profit, read
your work on plants in closed cases, and have
now outside my sitting-room window a
Lilliputian landscape (entirely through reading
that work), obtained by enclosing a space
with glass. In this case, which has no sun
upon it until near two p. m., and gradually
coming on later until it will not be visited for
near two months by that luminary, I have a
variety of ferns, wood, sorrel, &c., and many
other wild plants, which many persons here
very much admire, wondering how I could
keep them alive without air. At the back of
my premises, and close to my cases, are some
blacksmiths' forges, and a great deal of smoke
pouring from a bake-house chimney. I am
quite certain that if I admitted the air of the
yard, my present greenhouse would soon
become a black-house. If at any time my
services will be of use to you, they will be
most readily at your command, having been
from a boy exceedingly fond of growing
anything in the earth; for I well recollect when
a row of chick-weed against a wall was to me
as great a delight, as a new fuchsia or a purple
'sturtium would be to an amateur of the
present day, and when, after having sown
some barley in a space of eighteen feet by ten
feet, I had a bed of beautiful green, I thought
I was a wonderful gardener. I still delight
in these things, and I must say I am extremely
obliged to you for a great enjoyment I now
possess, for when I come in tired with
business, and fatigued perhaps in body and mind,
there's my little greenhouse looks so refreshing,
that I cannot help feeling its influence
soothing my mind, and it rewards me for all
the trouble I may have taken with it."

We have yet to glance at another and most
important application of the Ward case—in
the transport of plants from one country to
another. Formerly, they were closely packed
in cases, and either deprived of light, or
exposed to the salt spray, and drying, destructive
wind; and, partly from these causes, partly
from inadequate supply of fresh water, they
died in their transit by hundreds, but few
surviving a very long voyage. Now, a genial
home is furnished for them on the ocean, and
from their snug retreat, they

"Peep through their polish'd foliage at the storm,
And seem to smile at what they need not fear."

The cases used for purposes of conveyance
on ship-board are of stouter material, the
glass protected by wire-work, and they are
lashed securely on the poop of the vessel.
The protective glass covering admits the
light, wards off wind and spray, and retains
the moisture. This mode of conveyance has
now quite superseded the old one; many of
the rarest palms and ferns in the magnificent
collection at Kew have been brought over in
this way, and every horticulturist can bear
testimony to its value. Mr. Fortune, in the
last edition of his "Wanderings in China,"
gives a relative estimate of the old and new
methods. Under the old method, according
to a paper published by Mr. Livingstone, in
the "Transactions of the Horticultural Society
of London," only one plant in a thousand
survived the passage to England. Mr.
Fortune brought over two hundred and fifty
plants in some closed cases, and of these two
hundred and fifteen were landed in England,
in a perfectly healthy state. One illustration
being as good as a thousand, we give the
following very pertinent one, of the
incalculable benefits conferred by this plan in
the introduction of useful plants into countries
where they were previously unknown. When
Mr. Williams, the missionary, left England
for the Navigator Islands, in 1839, he took