This was done by covering a small skeleton frame with the canvas, putting it upon the ground over some cabbage plants, etc., and placing registering thermometers on the ground inside, and in similar position outside the frame; also by removing the glass cover of a cucumber frame, and replacing it by a frame on which the canvas is stretched.

I planted 300 cabbages in November last, in rows on the open ground, and placed the canvas-covered frame over 18 of them. At the present date, March 15, only 26 of the 282 outside plants are visible above the ground. All the rest have been cut off by the severe frost. Under the frame all are flourishing.

I find that the difference between the maximum and the minimum temperatures varies with the condition of the sky. In cloudy weather, the difference between the inside and the outside rarely exceeds 2° Fahr., and occasionally there is no difference. In clear weather the difference is considerable. During the day the outside thermometer registers from four or five to seven or eight degrees above that within the screen during the sunshine. At night the minimum thermometers show a difference which in one case reached 14°, i.e., between 23d and 24th February, when the lowest temperature I have observed was reached. The outside thermometer then fell to 8° Fahr., the inside to 22°. On the night of the 24th and 25th they registered 15½° outside, 25½° inside. On other, or ordinary clear frosty nights, with E. and N. and N.E. winds, the difference has ranged between 4° and 6°, usually within a fraction of the average, 5°.

The uniformity of this during the recent bright frosty nights, followed by warm sunny days, has been very remarkable, so much so that I think I may venture to state that 5° may be expected as the general protecting effect of a covering of such canvas from the mischievous action of our spring frosts which are due to nocturnal radiation into free space. Thus we obtain a climate, the mean of which would be about the same as outside, but subject to far less variation. How will this affect the growth of plants desirable to cultivate in the proposed canvas conservatories?

In the first place, we must not expect the results obtainable under glass, which by freely transmitting the bright solar rays, and absorbing or resisting the passage of the obscure rays from the heated soil, produces, during sunshine, a tropical climate here in our latitudes. We may therefore at once set aside any expectation of rearing exotic plants of any kind; even our native and acclimatized plants, which require the maximum heat of English sunshine, are not likely to flourish.

On the other hand, all those which demand moderate protection from sudden frosts, especially from spring frosts, and which flourish when we have a long mild spring and summer, are likely to be reared with especial success.

This includes nearly all our table vegetables, our salads, kitchen herbs, and British fruits, all our British and many exotic ferns, and, I believe, most of our out-of-door plants, both wild and cultivated.

As the subject of ornamental flowers is a very large one, and one with the cultivation of which I have very little practical acquaintance, I will pass it over; but must simply indicate that, in respect to ferns, the canvas enclosure offers a combination of most desirable conditions. The slight shade, the comparatively uniform temperature, and the moderated exhalation, are just those of a luxuriant fern dingle.

Respecting the useful or economic products I can speak with more confidence, that being my special department in our family or home gardening, which, as physical discipline, I have always conducted myself, with a minimum of professional aid.

My experience of a small garden leads me to give first place to salads. A yard square of rich soil, well managed, will yield a handsome and delicious weekly dish of salad nearly all the year round; and, at the same rate, seven or eight square yards will supply a daily dish—including lettuces, endives, radishes, spring onions, mustard, and various kinds of cress, and fancy salads, all in a state of freshness otherwise unattainable by the Londoner. My only difficulty has arisen from irregularity of supply. From the small area allowed for salads, I have been over-supplied in July, August, and September, and reduced to in-door or frame-grown mustard and cress during the winter. With the equable insular climate obtainable under the canvas, this difficulty will be greatly diminished; and besides this, most of the salads are improved by partial shade, lettuces and endives more blanched and delicate than when exposed to scorching sun, radishes less fibrous, mustard, cress, etc., milder in flavor and more succulent.