Before the last war with China, foreigners were confined to narrow limits about Canton and Macao, where they had no means of knowing anything of the more hardy plants of the north, which they sometimes met with in gardens, and introduced to Europe, Now, however, we can prosecute our botanical reseaches in a country which is nearly a thousand miles further to the north-east, and at many other places which lie along that line of coast. The island of Koo-lung-su, for example, near Amoy, was taken by our troops during the war, and occupied by them for some years until a portion of the ransom money was paid. It seemed to have been a place of residence to many of the mandarins and principal merchants in peaceful times, and boasted of its gardens and pretty fish ponds. When I first saw these gardens they were mostly in a ruinous condition, and everywhere exhibited the fatal effects of war. Many beautiful plants, however, still continued to grow and scramble over the walls. Captain Hall, of the Madras army, who was stationed there for some time, was very fond of botany, and took great pleasure in pointing out to me all the plants which he met with in his rambles. "I have good news for you," said he, one morning when I met him; "come with me and I shall show you the most beautiful plant on the island, which I have just discovered.

It is a creeper, it produces fine long racemes of lilac flowers before it puts forth its leaves, and it is deliriously fragrant." What could it be? was it new? would it produce perfect seeds? or could young plants be procured to send home? were questions which rapidly suggested themselves. It is only the enthusi-astical botanical collector who can form an idea of the amount of excitement and pleasure there is when one fancies he is on the eve of finding a new and beautiful flower. Captain Hall led the way, and we soon reached the spot where the plant grew. There had been no exaggeration in his description; there it was, covering an old wall, and scrambling up the branches of the adjoining trees; it bore long racemes of Pea-shaped flowers, and scented the surrounding air with its odors. Need I say it was the beautiful Glycine. But it was not found in a wild state even at Amoy, and had evidently been brought from more northern latitudes.

When I reached Chusan, in latitude 30° north, I found a remarkable change in the appearance of the vegetation. Tropical forms had entirely disappeared, or were rarely met with. Although the summers were as warm, or even warmer, than they were in the south, yet the winters were nearly as cold as those we have in England. On this ground, and all over the provinces of Chekiang and Kiangnan, the Glycine seemed to be at home. It grew wild on every hill-side, scrambling about in the hedges by the footpaths, and hanging over and dipping its leaves and unfrequent in nature, and is often copied by the Chinese and introduced into their gardens.

You can scarcely imagine anything more gorgeous or beautiful than a large plant of this kind in full bloom. Its main and larger branches are entwined round every branch and branchlet of the tree; and from them hundreds of small ones hang down until they nearly touch the ground. The whole of the branches are covered with flower-buds, which a day or two of warm weather brings rapidly forward into bloom. To form an idea of the effect produced by these thousands of long lilac racemes, you must imagine, if you can, a floral cascade, or a Weeping Willow covered with the flowers of the Glycine. There are some large specimens of this kind on the island of Chusan. One, in particular, was most striking. Not content with monopolising one tree, it had scrambled over a whole clump, and formed a pretty arbor underneath. When I saw it last, it was in full flower, and had a most charming appearance.

The Chinese are fond of growing the Glycine on trellis-work, and forming long covered walks in the garden, or arbors and porticos in front of their doors. In a former letter I noticed a large specimen of this description in the garden of the British consulate at Shanghae. There is another remarkable one in the garden of a mandarin at Ningpo; growing in company with it is the fine new variety introduced lately by the Horticultural Society Of London, and published in the Journal of the Society. In foliage and general habit the two kinds are nearly alike, but the new one bears long racemes of pure white flowers. The kind old gentleman to whom the garden belonged (he is dead now) allowed me to make layers of this plant on the top of his house, and during the summer months, when I was travelling in other districts, attended to them and watered them with his own hands. When I saw him about a year ago he told me he was then nearly 80 years old. One of the gentlemen who accompanied me (Dr. Kirk, of Shanghae,) being introduced to him as a medical man, was asked if he could live for one year more. The old man said he knew he must die soon, but he was most anxious to live for another year.

His presentiment was but too correct, for the next

Domestic notices.