ONE of the most interesting of the architectural adornments of the abbey church at Bath is least observed or looked for by visitors, for the good reason that it is hidden away on the west side, which is in a kind of close, and hemmed in by houses. But this west side is pierced by a magnificent window of seven lights, supported by turrets, on which are sculptured the details of Jacob's dream: there are the ladders, and the angels ascending and descending. It is a hard, realistic, and very stony rendering of a story that is generally and properly regarded as subjective and spiritual and prophetic. The architect might have adorned those turrets with the ladder-like leaves of the polemonium, and he might have presented the angels in a less cumbrous manner, and, by means of a little architectural ingenuity, have avoided the ludicrous expedient of placing some of them on the ladders head downwards, to indicate the direction of their movement. But he elected to be objective, and despite the grotesqueness of the design, the effect is at once picturesque and noble, and the story is told with unmistakable perspicuity. In the year 1499, when Bishop King had a dream of angels on a ladder, which this grand window was to commemorate, there was not much attention given to conventional reproductions of plant form, but they could build, and when a floral wreath or capital was needed, they found the means to produce it in a way to command the admiration, and perhaps the surprise, of posterity. This Jacob's ladder, or Polemonium caerulum, appears peculiarly adapted for the purposes of conventional art, and the variegated variety may in respect of its very delicate beauty, combined with its peculiar mechanism of form, be described as essentially an "artistic" plant. As a matter of fact, there is no such thing as an artistic plant, nor can there be; but the term is convenient, and serves in some degree to expound one of our commonest inborn notions.

The polemoniums are related to the phloxes, cobaeas, and gilias. There are many species known in gardens. The one before us is not only known as Jacob's ladder, but also as Greek valerian. It is a British plant perhaps, and is certainly to be met with as a wilding in the northern parts of the kingdom, but it is probably only as an escape from the cottage gardens. A large-flowered form of it is known as Polemonium grandiflorum. This is quite worth a place in the garden, as it is a true perennial, although described in the books as a biennial. The dwarf kinds (P. humile, P. reptans, and P. Richardsoni) are probably varieties of one species. They are very hardy plants, thriving best in a poor soil and a cold position. Another very dwarf kind is P. pulcherrimum, which has very bright blue flowers, and is equally worth possessing. Of the rest we can say but little. They are worth possessing, but, in common with many interesting plants, the question arises, How shall we obtain them? In Mr. Ware's catalogue seven kinds are entered, comprising all those above named, and in addition the white-flowered variety of the plant now before us. Perhaps for the most hungry lover of polemoniums seven sorts will be enough, and we will not risk recommending any more.

The variegated Jacob's ladder has been remarked upon above as particularly beautiful; and being hardy, it is considered valuable as a bedding plant, making a good grey band different in tone from the cold grey of Centaurea ragusina or Stachys lanata, which are much prized for their contrast to high colours: the polemonium being of a warm cream colour, tending almost to primrose yellow, is a delicious accompaniment to a mass of blue lobelia, and useful sometimes to make a mixed mass with rose or crimson flowers. This plant is propagated by divisions and cuttings, and a little patience will suffice to insure a good stock of it in one or two seasons. As a rule, it should not be allowed to flower, but when grown as a border plant the flowers are acceptable.

Our plant appears not to have secured a place in the garland of the poets. But in some verses on a flower which grew on Mount Tabor a passage occurs which very nearly fits its homely name and associations:-

"Fair flower! thy wondrous tale I love,

For angels listen from above--

And did'st thou deck the very sod

Where my incarnate Saviour trod?

Oh, tell me more, thou amaranth flower--

More of His wisdom, love, and power;

Oh, tell me is that land most fair--

Are all the flowers unfading there?

And if a mortal tread that hill,

Will not each thought soar heav'n-ward still?

Will he not feel celestial birth,

All wing'd for heaven, and loos'd from earth?

"Christian! the glory's all past by

That beam'd on Tabor wondrously--

The sounds miraculous are still,

And earthly winds breathe round the hill;

Prophets, apostles, all are gone--

Nought tells thee where the glory shone.

Oh, dream not holier thoughts would rise

'Neath Eastern than 'neath Western skies,

But triumph in thy blessed lot--