Flowers yield perfumes in all climates, but those growing in the warmer latitudes are most prolific in their odor, while those from the colder are the sweetest.  Hooker, in his travels in Iceland, speaks of the delightful fragrance of the flowers in the valley of Skardsheidi; we know that winter-green, violets, and primroses are found here, and the wild thyme, in great abundance.  Mr. Louis Piesse, in company with Captain Sturt, exploring the wild regions of South Australia, writes:  “The rains have clothed the earth with a green as beautiful as a Shropshire meadow in May, and with flowers, too, as sweet as an English violet; the pure white anemone resembles it in scent.  The Yellow Wattle, when in flower, is splendid, and emits a most fragrant odor.”

Though many of the finest perfumes come from the East Indies, Ceylon, Mexico, and Peru, the South of Europe is the only real garden of utility to the perfumer.  Grasse and Nice are the principal seats of the art; from their geographical position, the grower, within comparatively short distances, has at command that change of climate best fitted to bring to perfection the plants required for his trade.  On the seacoast his Cassiae grows without fear of frost, one night of which would destroy all the plants for a season; while, nearer the Alps, his violets are found sweeter than if grown in the warmer situations, where the orange tree and mignionette bloom to perfection.  England can claim the superiority in the growth of lavender and peppermint; the essential oils extracted from these plants grown at Mitcham, in Surrey, realize eight times the price in the market of those produced in France or elsewhere, and are fully worth the difference for delicacy of odor.

The odors of plants reside in different parts of them, sometimes in the roots, as in the iris and vitivert; the stem or wood, in cedar and sandal; the leaves, in mint, patchouly, and thyme; the flower, in the roses and violets; the seeds in the Tonquin bean and caraway; the bark, in cinnamon, &c.

Some plants yield more than one odor, which are quite distinct and characteristic.  The orange tree, for instance, gives three—­from the leaves one called petit grain; from the flowers we procure neroli; and from the rind of the fruit, essential oil of orange, essence of Portugal.  On this account, perhaps, this tree is the most valuable of all to the operative perfumer.

The fragrance or odor of plants is owing, in nearly all cases, to a perfectly volatile oil, either contained in small vessels, or sacs within them, or generated from time to time, during their life, as when in blossom.  Some few exude, by incision, odoriferous gums, as benzoin, olibanum, myrrh, &c.; others give, by the same act, what are called balsams, which appear to be mixtures of an odorous oil and an inodorous gum.  Some of these balsams are procured in the country to which the plant is indigenous by boiling it in water for