Essences Used in Creating Fougere

The Perfume Family "Fougere"(fern-like)is centered around the natural accord  of Lavender, Tonka Bean and Oakmoss. This combination of woodsy, powderey, coumarinic, mossy notes was originally considered a masculine fragrance but over years since it first captured the imagination of perfume lovers(in 1882 Houbigant Fougère Royale captured the imagination of perfume loves) this unique bouquet has taken on numerous forms so that it is loved by men and women alike.
Many subfamilies of Fougere now exist  including woody, spicy, floral,  ambery etc so the list of natural essential oils, absolutes and co2 extracts the woodsy, mossy, coumarinc(new mown hay) that can be used in creating special Fougeres is extensive. Some of the most popular essences for enchancing the Fougere bouquet are geranium eo and abs, vetiver eo and co2, clary sage eo and abs and patchouli eo, co2 and abs but a comprehensive list follows from which many variations of Fougere perfumes may be evolved. It is important to remember that there are many shared essences that can be used in such classic accords as form Fougere, Musk(Botanical), Amber(Botanical), Ambergris(botanical), Chypre, Oriental, etc but it is the choice and proportion of those essences combined with the specific accord that will bestow on the perfumers creation its unique charm.

Fougere Linksère

Essences for creating Fougere perfumes

Spicy/Aromatic Fougere

Allspice eo and abs
Bay leaf eo
Cardamon eo, co2 and abs
Cassia eo and co2
Chai Spice Melange
Cinnamon bark eo, co2 and abs
Clove Bud eo and abs
Fenugreek eo, co2 and abs
Nutmeg eo and abs
Saffron absolute

Woodsy Fougere

Agarwood eo
Birch Tar eo
Cade eo
Cedarwood Western Red Heartwood eo
Cedarwood Texas eo
Cedarwood Port Orford eo
Cedarwood, Virginia eo
Cedarwood, Atlas eo and abs
Cedarwood, Himalayan eo
Cedarwood White Absolute
Choya Loban
Choya Ral
Coriander eo
Eaglewood eo
Hiba eo
Hinoki eo
Mushroom absolute
Oakmoss absolute
Pine Needle absolute
Spruce White Absolute
Spruce Black Absolute
Vetiver eo and co2

Ambery/Oriental Fougere

Agarwood Amber Melange
Amber Sweet Melange
Ambergris Melange
Aglaia absolute
Ambrette seed eo, co2 andabs
Angelica root eo, co2 and absolute
Angelica seed eo
Benzoin abs and eo
Cypress abs
Cypriol/Nagarmotha eo
Fir Balsam absolute
Labdanum eo and abs
Patchouli eo and abs
Poplar Bud Absolute
Rose Leaf absolute
Sage Clary eo and abs
Tonka bean absolute
Vanilla absolute

Herbaceous Fougere

Artemisia annua eo
Basil eo and abs
Cape chamomile eo
Chamomile English/Roman eo
Chamomile Blue/German eo
Chamomile Wild Morocco eo
Davana eo and co2
Erigeron eo
Geranium eo and abs
Hyssop eo
Lavandin eo and abs
Lavender eo, co2 and abs
Leleshwa eo
Lovage Leaf eo
Rosemary eo and co2
Sage eo and abs
St. Johns Wort eo

Floral Fougere

Boronia abs
Cananga eo
Champa White Flower eo
Jasmine abs
Neroli eo
Orange Blossom abs
Osmanthus absolute
Rose eo and abs
Ylang eo and abs

Fresh Fougere(Citrus/Coniferous/Resin topnotes)

Basil eo and abs
Bergamot eo
Bergamot mint eo
Cistus eo
Citron eo
Combava peel eo
Cypress eo
Cypress, Alaskan eo
Fir Balsam eo
Fir Nobel eo
Fir Siberian eo
Fir Silver eo
Frankincense eo
Galbanum eo and co2
Juniper Berry eo
Lemon eo
Lime eo
Mandarin eo
Orange eo
Orange bitter eo
Pine eo's(Ponderosa, Forest/Scotch, Swiss Stone)
Tangerine eo
Templin eo
Yuzu eo

Essences Used in creating Botanical Musk

The term "Musk" in an olfactory sense, is used to describe a category of perfume that is primarily created through a blending of various essences that create a fragrance that is "animalic,powdery, woody, spicy, ambery, sweet" in odor. It is a perfume, much like amber and ambergris, that is a product of the perfumers own creative vision of what musk might be like as genuine musk is a product that few people in modern times have encountered. Hence one find a wide range of perfumes and fragrances bearing the name of musk.
One of the reasons for having a concentrated musk essence in one's palette is that along with such complex bases as ambergris and amber, it gives one a fine fixative that blends well with a wide range of aromatic materials and extends the olfactory life of perfume as a whole. Such complex bases are often used in percentages of up to 10% to anchor the other absolutes, co2 extracts, and essential oils interacting with them. Along with the fixative effect of the base(musk, ambergris, amber) each such base makes an unique exhalting contribution to the blend.
Interesting Links for Creating Botanical Musk essences…/ambrette-seeds-okra-and-bot……/decoding-obscure-note…

Natural Essences for creating a Botanical Musk:

Agarwood eo and co2
Aglaia absolute
Allspice eo, co2 and absolutes
Ambrette Seed eo, co2 and absolute
Angelica Root eo, co2 and absolute
Beeswax Absolute
Benzoin Absolute
Birch Tar eo
Black Currant absolute
Buddhawood eo and co2
Cade eo
Cassia Bark eo and co2
Cedarwood Texas eo
Cedarwood Virginia eo
Cedarwood White absolute
Cedarwood Atlas absolute
Choya Nakh
Choya Ral
Choya Loban
Cinnamon bark eo, co2 and absolute
Cistus eo and absolute
Clary Sage eo and absolute
Clove Bud absolute and co2
Coffee co2 and absolute
Coriander Seed eo and co2
Costus eo and co2
Cypress Absolute
Cypriol/Nagarmotha eo and co2
Davana eo, co2 and absolute
Eaglewood eo
Erigeron eo
Fenugreek eo, co2 and abs
Fir Balsam Absolute
Frankincense co2 and absolute
Galbanum eo, co2 and absolute
Greenheart Wood essential oil
Guiacawood eo
Hay Absolute
Helichrysum Absolute
Hinoki eo
Hiba eo
Labdanum eo and abs
Lavandin absolute
Lavender absolute
Licorice co2 and absolute
Lovage Root eo, co2 and absolute
Mushroom absolute
Myrrh absolute and co2
Nutmeg Absolute
Oakmoss absolute
Patchouli eo, co2 and absolute
Poplar Bud Absolute
Rose Leaf Absolute
Rosewood Leaf eo
Ruh Khus
Ruh Kewda
Saffron absolute
Sandalwood eo, co2 and absolute
Spikenard eo and co2
Spruce White absolute
Spruce Blue absolute
Seaweed Absolute
Siamwood eo
Tonka Bean absolute
Valerian eo and co2
Vanilla co2 and absolute
Vetiver eo and co2
Zdravetz eo and absolute

Leather Note in Perfumery

Leather Notes in Perfu mery
Leather.(Notes from Perfu me and Flavor Materials by Steffen Arctander)
The term "leather"-notes or "leather" perfume
types occur quite frequently in the perfumer's
language. There are even a number of different
perfume types which fall under the category of
"leather". Originally and truly, the odor should
only derive from leather, more exactly from
untanned leather. But the use of the term "leather"
for an odor has slowly changed to become a
description of the tanning and processing materials
in respect to odor type. The curing and tanning
of leather involves the use of a number of chem-
icals, and the process is well known for the
obnoxious odor emitted by the wet leather in the
tanning brine. Various phenols are used as
preservatives, but natural tars have also been
used as "masking" odors during the process.
The leather will acquire an odor of such tars and
retain that odor for a very long time. This odor
has become synonymous with "leather" odor.
As a final step away from the original meaning of
the term, also the various chemicals used in the
curing are known as having a "leather" odor.
A true Leather Tincture was produced in
Germany years ago. Waste pieces of "Juchten-
leder" or other cuttings of leather were chopped
and extracted with alcohol by maceration. Such
tinctures are not commercially available.
In France, the "leather" notes are generally
known as "cuir" or "cuir de russie" (Russian
leather), but none of the commercial products
are based upon natural leather. Birch Tar Oil
fractions, Castoreum Tincture, various phenols,
cresols, creosol, isobutylquinoline, cananga oil,
zingerone, anhydrol ethyl labdanate, mate, styrax,
crude amber oil, cade oil, origanum oil, etc. are
used in the artificial reproduction of the odor-type
which is today generally known in perfumery
circles as a Leather type….
Rectified Birch Tar is a pale yellow to brownish
yellow, clear and oily liquid. The odor description,
"like Russian leather", is conventional, but
somewhat incorrect. Russian leather smells of
birch tar because the leather is tanned with the
tar products which also preserve this special type
of leather. This circle of odor association is
similar to the well-known: vanillin smells of
The odor of BirchTar Oil is distinctly phenolic,
very penetrating and diffusive, obviously remini-
scent of tar, charred wood and smoke (all of which
have their odor from components of the birch
tar oil!) However, the most characteristic feature
in the odor pattern of birchtar oil is the sweet-oily
undertone which appears distinctly on the smelling
blotter when the first empyreumatic notes have
faded away.
Amber pieces which are unfit for jewelry as
well as dust and residues from the gem industry,
etc. are submitted to dry distillation in order to
yield the so-called Succinol or Crude Amber Oil.
Crude (or pyroligneous) Amber Oil is a dark
amber-colored or brownish, but clear oily liquid.
Its odor is smoky, tarlike, resinous, with a
distinct resemblance to the odor of tanned leather.
The crude oil finds some application in perfumery
where it blends excellently with labdanum,
castoreum, ionones, amylsalicylate, etc. and it is
sweetened with cananga oil, benzylsalicylate,
zingerone, etc. for typical "leather" bases, e.g.
in men's colognes and after-shaves….
Rectified Cade Oil is a clear, orange-brown to
dark brown, oily liquid with an intense "tar-like",
smoky-phenolic odor. Its use in perfumery is
limited to situations where a smoky-leathery,
woody-phenolic, dry and warm note is called for:
forest notes, leather-bases, fougeres, pine for
"men's fragrances", etc., and in the imitation of
certain essential oils, oakmoss, etc…..
(end of quotes from Steffen Arctander)
A nu mbar of natural perfume materials are used in creating
the Leather Complex. As mentioned above Birch Tar, Cade,
Crude Amber(very seldom available) and natu rap isolates obtained from them form the basis of the Leather Complex but there are many ty pes of Leather Perfumes which include floral notes, mossy notes, creamy notes, spicy notes, woody notes etc
Here is a list of some possible additions to Leather which can give interesting effects
Aglaia odorata absolute
Amber Melange
Ambergris(Botanical Melange)
Arnica Absolute
Agarwood eo and co2
Black Currant Abs
Boronia abs
Calamus eo and co2
Cananga eo
Carrot Seed eo, co2 and abs
Cassia eo and co2
Cassie Absolute
Cedarleaf eo
Cedarwood, Texax
Cedarwood, Atlas Absolute and eo
Cedarwood, Virginia
Cedarwood, Port Orford
Champaca abs
Cinnamon bark eo, co2 and abs
Cistus eo and abs
Coriander eo and co2
Costus eo and co2
Cyperus/Nagarmotha eo
Cubeb eo
Davana eo and abs
Fenugreek eo, co2 and abs
Frankincense eo, co2 and abs
Guiacawood eo
Henna Leaf co2
Henna Saffron Melange
Hiba eo
Hinoki eo
Hyssop eo
Juniperberry eo and co2
Labdanum eo and abs
Licorice co2 or absolute
Lovage Leaf eo
Lovage Root eo and abs
Mastic eo or absolute
Mate abs
Muhuhu eo
Musk(Botanical) Melange
Myrtle eo
Nagchampa Melange
Nutmeg eo and abs
Oakmoss Absolute
Opoponax eo and abs
Oregano eo and co2
Osmanthus absolute
Peru Balsam eo and abs
Pepper, Black eo and co2
Pepper Pink eo and co2
Pine, Dwarf Mountain
Piper Betel eo
Poplar Bud eo and abs
Rose Leaf absolute
Sage eo and co2
Saffron abs
Seaweed abs
Spikenard eo and co2
Styrax eo and abs
Tea absolute(Green or Black)
Templin eo
Tolu Balsam Absolute
Treemoss Absolute
Vetiver eo and co2
Ylang abs and eo
Other interesting links on Leather in Perfumery…/decoding-obscure-note……/leather-series-3-produc……/leather-series-1-defini…

Essences for Cologne

In perfumery terminology the word "Cologne" generally refers to the famous Eau de Cologne(Water of Cologne) created by Johann Maria Farina of Italy around 1709. Farina creation was mainly composed of citrus and herbal essential oils and according to his diary which were further diluted in alcohol and water to create a light, refreshing bouquet. In his own words-
"I have found a fragrance that reminds me of an Italian spring morning, of mountain daffodils and orange blossoms after the rain". The basic recipe which Farina created was soon followed with slight variations by many perfumers of that era.These highly diluted essences were composed mainly of the cold pressed oils of bergamot, orange and lemon and the distilled oils of rosemary, lavender, petitgrain and neroli. It is remembered that the vast range of natural aromatics that we now have access too was not available to perfumers working in the 17th and 18th century.
The following links will give more particulars regarding the History of Eau de Cologne…/…/cologne-and-its-eau.html…/old-recipes-for-eau-de-colo…
Cologne in a modern perfumery context is a generic terminology applied to fragrances that maintain the light, refreshing, zestful top-note centric scent mainly composed of essential oils derived from citrus fruits, herbs, conifers, grasses, leaf and the lighter resinous oils. All of these oils tend to have a relatively short aromatic life-span. A The term "Cologne" also refers to a high level of dilution-from 3%-8% in an ethanol base. 5% is a typical level of dilution for a cologne. Hence the high level of dilution along with essences that are top-note centric create an essence meant to transform the environment in which they appear in an instant and with a relatively short period of time dissipate into the atmosphere.
For both amateur and professional perfumers alike, colognes represent a wonderful world to explore. They are not expensive to create and variations of essences even with the same category
can give rise to delightful fragrances.
Here are some of the essences from which a perfumer can choose;

Citrus oils
Bergamot eo
Citron eo
Clementine eo
Combava peel eo
Grapefruit eo
Lemon eo
Lemon eo
Lemon essence eo
Lime eo
Lime essence eo
Mandarin(red, yellow, green) eo
Orange essence eo
Orange eo
Orange Bitter(green and red) eo
Orange Blood eo
Tangerine eo
Tangerine essence eo

Conifer oils
Cypress eo
Cypress, Alaska eo
Cypress, Blue eo
Fir Balsam eo
Fir Siberian eo
Fir Noble eo
Fir Douglas eo
Fir Silver eo
Hiba eo
Hinoki eo
Juniper berry eo
Pine Dwarf Mountain eo
Pine, Forest/Scotch eo
Pine Ponderosa eo
Pine Swiss Stone eo
Spruce Black eo
Templin eo
Terebinth eo

Herbal oils
Artemisia annua eo
Artemisia White Sage Brush eo
Basil, Holy eo
Basil, Lemon eo
Basil, Methly chavicol eo
Basil, Linalool eo
Bicchu eo
Cape chamomile eo
Chamomile, English/Roman eo
Chamomile, wild(Morocco) eo
Davana eo
Erigeron eo
Geranium eo
Hyssop eo
Khella eo
Lavender eo
Lavandin eo
Lemonbalm/Melissa eo
Marjoram, Sweet eo
Myrtle eo
Pennyroyal eo
Peppermint eo
Rosemary eo
Sage eo
Sage, Clary eo
Sage, Spanish eo
Spearmint eo

Resinous oils
Cistus eo
Elemi eo
Frankincense eo
Galbanum eo
Mastic eo
Opoponax eo
Palo Santo eo

Grass oils
African Blue Grass eo
Citronella eo
Gingergrass eo
Lemongrass eo
Palmarosa eo

Leaf oils
Bay Leaf, West Indies eo
Eucalyptus citriodora eo
Eucalyptus, Lemon Ironbark eo
Eucalyptus macarthurii eo
Laurel leaf eo
Petitgrain bigarade eo
Petitgrain combava eo
Petitgrain mandarin eo
Petitgrain lemon eo
Petitgrain sur Fleur eo
Rhododendron leaf eo

Flower oils
Cananga eo
Neroli eo
Ruh Kewda
Ylang eo
From the above mentioned oils(and this is by no means a complete one) one can embark on a joyful creative journey.
Not only can one create many unique top-note centric colognes but they can use the same concentrated essence as a top-note in more sophisticated perfumes with a ty pical middle and base note.

Symphony of Odors by H. L. Berry

Symphony of Odors by H. L. Berry(click here to read essay)

Out of Pain-A Radiant World

Out of Pain-A Radiant World(click here to read essay)


The sense of smell is generally considered to be one of such minor importance, that the idea of comparing it in any way with those appertaining to the eyes and ears would seem at first sight preposterous. Yet this sense is, as regards one aspect at least, more highly strung than either of the two alluded to; indeed, so subtle is it, that it appears to possess a consciousness of its own with which that of the brain is not always en rapport, so alert and so exquisitely intuitive is its perception. Now and again we are arrested by a wandering breath of perfume that momentarily stirs some chord of memory, yet with such a down-soft touch that, even as we are aware of the vibration, it has ceased—the scent is still in the air, but its elusive message has fled and in vain we search for the clue; we only know that at some period of our lives a like fragrance has held a meaning for us.
Of this nature, though less vague, are the recollections of scenes, perhaps thousands of miles distant, suddenly projected on the retina of memory by some indefinable quality in the air. The far-off scene lies spread before our mental vision, but the essence that has invoked it defies analysis. More tangible, and therefore less tantalising, are those odours that bear no uncertain message, whose well - remembered savour bridges the lapse of years and revives, with a microscopical accuracy, memories of the past, to which remembrances, little as we may recognise the fact, we owe many of those illusions that serve to render life less prosaic and material.
"Fragrance," as has been well said, "is the song of flowers," but the language in which that song is written, like other tongues, is best learned in youth, and happy are those whose childhoods have been spent in the country and who have thus insensibly absorbed the essence of Nature's poetry, for theirs are precious, impersonal memories that will remain constant through life—memories of summer nights when the clean, pure breath of the hayfield, wafted through the open lattice window, overcame the heavier odour of the white Jasmine that clambered over the porch below, of dewy summer dawns when the measured rhythm of the mowers' scythe-sharpening from the wet lawns awoke them to the untainted freshness of the cool air tremulous with the morning song of the thrushes, of the scents that haunt the long June twilights, the perfume of lush grasses blown from far pastures and of all the sweet nesses of the open air. Flowers are indeed the nightingales of the many-noted melody of fragrance, but the chorus is infinite, every hour of the day and night having its separate voice. every atmospheric change its distinct tone, lofty tree and lowly grass blade adding each its unit to the mighty cadences of the song.
Who that loves a garden does not know the change that comes over it when, from the blueblack clouds, after weeks of parching days ami dewless nights, the long-desired rain falls upon the thirsty ground. With the earliest mutterings of thunder—those "voices calling out of other lands "—the Sweet Brier, presaging the coming of the downpour, has breathed its perfume on the sultry air, while the first great drops that fall on dust-laden foliage and sunweary petal awake the scents that have lon» slumbered in leaf and blossom. Soon in the glad rain-song of the trees every leaf is vocal and the air is full of the fragrance of the moist earth, while " the soft rain that heals the mown, the many-wounded grass, soothing it with the sweetness of all music, the hush that lives between music and silence," descending like a benediction, draws forth a perfume from every freshened blade. Many are the trees, some suitable to our English climate and others that only flourish in warmer latitudes, which diffuse fragrance from flower or foliage. The stately Lime trees—"the murmurous Limes"—their blossoms haunted by the tribes of ever-shiftitu; bees; the Cedars of xllgeria and Junipers of Bermuda, their precincts odorous as with the incense of swinging censers; the Pines, hoary with the growth of ages, with their elastic carpet of resinous needles and dim aisles fraught with the mysterious traditions fostered amid the "savour and shade of old-world Pine forests where the wet hill-winds weep ; " the Euealyptus, distilling its clean health-giving aroma from leaf and bark. Then in other climes there are odours of the open air that here can be enjoyed only beneath the shelter of a glass roof—the Frangij.ani fringing the roadside in West Indian isles ; Moonflowers (Datura), that at the sudden tropic nightfall flood the heavy air with the opulent perfume of their snowy chalices; ivorywhite Gardenias, tall Tuberose spires, and a host of other flowers that breathe ambrosially on unfamiliar zephyrs.
We have, however, no need in our islands to search the tropics for perfumes, for amongst hardy plants, annuals and shrubs there an' many that will surround our dwellings with sweet scent. Foremost are the Roses, the Teascented, many of the Hybrid Perpetual*, the beautiful singles, the Banksians, Cabbage, M'*& the old Monthly Roses and the Sweet Brier. Then there are the Clove-scented Carnations and white Pinks, which fill even far airs with fragrance ; the old-fashioned double Rockets, the sweet-scented Tobacco plant that, slumbering through the hours of daylight, awakes to life and perfume with the coming of twilight, together with the Evening Primroses; the Lilies, headed by the peerless Madonna Lily, emblem of chastity, that nowhere blossoms in such immaculate perfection as in humble cottage gardens; the showy and richlyperfumed golden-rayed Lily of Japan: the white trumpet Lily (L. longiflorum) and the giant Lily of the Himalayas with its odour of vanilla, while of so-called Lilies there are the modest Lily of the Valley shedding its pun.1 aroma from its drooping ivorine bells, Day Lilies, and the Belladonna Lily. In the spring we have fragrant breadths of Primroses, the large family of the Narcissi, Hyacinths, and the sweetnesses of Violet and Wallflower, followed by a long list of fragrant annuals and perennialsHeliotrope, Mignonette, Sweet Sultan, Stocks, Sweet Peas, Bergamot, Dictamnus, Hedychium (hardy in the south-west), some of the Irises and Pieonies, the scented-leaved Geraniums, the beautiful white Californian Poppy (Romneya Coulteri), honey-scented Sweet Alyssum, and the Woodruff (Asperula) with its faint essence of new-mown hay, while Honeysuckles, scented Clematis, odorous Jasmine, Stauntonia, and the long, lavender flower-fringe of the Wistaria will wreathe porch and wall with loveliness and fragrance. Of shrubs and lesser trees we may grow the Allspice (Calycanthus), Daphne, Choisya, Hawthorns, Lilac, Magnolia, Myrtle, the Syringa-s, Sweet Bay (the Laurel of Apollo's wreath), lemon-scented Verbena (Aloysia), and the Winter Sweet (Chimonanthus) that, alone of its compeers, greets us with its scented breath on dark December days—a Christmas carol of perfume—while space should be found for such subjects as Balm of Gilead, Rosemary, Southernwood, Sweet Basil, and last, but certainly not least, the Lavender, perhaps even more fragrant in death than in life, whose dried blossoms perfumed the interiors of our ancestors' homes with the sweetness that, when alive, they distilled from the trim parterres of old-time gardens. Fragrance was highly considered in the gardens of old, but the mania for carpet bedding and pretentious, geometrical designs in
by age, leads down into this garden of sweet scents, where "Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose" flourish as in those days of yore when the pleasaunce was fashioned for the delight of the fair young chatelaine whose portrait hangs in the oak-panelled hall of the Elizabethan manor near by. The formal beds, carefully tended as in the past years, possess a quaint primness that suggests the staid grace of a byegone century and with which the perfumes of the oldfashioned flowers are in suave keeping. Rows of virginal white Lilies rear their pure spires above breadths of Pinks, Picotees, and Clove Carnations. Here and there the Cabbage Roses have formed great bushes, and the Musk Roses on the arches are bowers of scent, while Rocket, Mignonette, and Lavender lavish their fragrance on the slumbering airs that haunt the confines of the Yews, and the essence of sweet herbs is ever present. In the centre of the garden stands an old sun-dial, whose gnomon still records the flight of the hours on the green surface of its metal disc, but whose motto, carved around the capital of its freestone pillar, the passing of the seasons has well-nigh obliterated. Only one word— "sapit " — remains readable, and the stray letters that can, at intervals, be deciphered are insufficient clues for the reconstruction of the time-worn legend, "Sapit "—" Is wise." As the eyes rest on the
[graphic][merged small][merged small]
brilliant colours during the short summer months left no room for the sweet old favourites whose places were usurped by scentless flowers of gaudy hue, requiring yearly propagation, and in winter careful nurture under glass. Few were the gardens at one time, except those of cottagers, that were not given over to this undesirable innovation, and few, therefore, can now be found where the restfid reign of the old Bowers has continued unbroken by the incursion of more showy invaders. Where such gardens still exist they are generally situated in remote country districts, attached to some old grange or manor house, which has stood aloof from the hurrying tide of change in the placid backwater of its serene environment, round which the uneventful years have circled without disturbing its unruffled calm.
Ensconced in a corner of rural England there lies a typical garden, or rather portion of a garden, of this description which, heedless of the changing generations that have come and gone, has itself remained unchanged save in minor details. On three sides it is enclosed by tall Yew hedges, on the fourth by a wall surmounted by a stone balustrade that shows grey and Lichen»|)otted between clustering Honeysuckle and Jasmine that wreathe its pillars. A flight of broad steps, cracked in places and discoloured marred lettering one finds oneself speculating as to whom it may be that has thus garnered the wisdom of the years. Whether the first fair mistress of the garden, in that far country where no shadows abide and the light is not of the sun, finds wisdom all-suflicing. Whether in the fulness of knowledge there comes not at times a faint stirring of some chord of memory that recalls the long-forgotten scent of posies gathered in the garden of the sun-dial, and the sweet, sunny hours that its tireless finger marked so unerringly, sweeter, perhaps, for their very uncertainty and for the unrecorded hours of shade which also held a charm.
In our lives of evanescent action the scenes are shifted so swiftly, incident succeeding incident so rapidly, change following so closely upon change, that there is neither rest nor finality, but memories are unaffected by time, and a fragrant air has power to reawaken them in all their pristine freshness. "Thoughts and remembrances. These are the things that live for ever. It is only these that are real."

A Box of Perfume by Frank Boreham

A Box of Perfume by Frank Boreham(click here to read essay)

Embalmed Souls of Flowers by Eliane de la Tour

Embalmed Souls of Flowers by Eliane de la Tour(click to read essay)

A Sweet Morsel: The Story of the Roving Honeybee by Herbert M. Sylvester

A Sweet Morsel: The Story of the Roving Honeybee by Herbert M. Sylvester(click here to read essay)

On the Manuscripts of God By Ellen Burns Sherman

The Flowering Plant of Great Britain by Ann Pratt Volumes 1 and 2

The flowering plants and ferns of Great Britain, Volume 1 By Anne Pratt(click here to read book)

The Flowering Plants of Great Britain, Volume 2 By Anne Pratt(click here to read book)

A Year Book of Kentucky Woods and Fields by Ingram Crockett

A Year Book of Kentucky Woods and Fields by Ingram Crockett(click here to read book)

Island Garden by Celia Thaxter

Island Garden by Celia Thaxter(click here to read book)

The Borderline of Country Life by Augusta Larned

The Borderline of Country Life by Augusta Larned(click here to read book)

Fixatives in Natural Perfumery-

Fixatives in Natural Perfumery-
Fixatives are an important constituent of many natural perfumes.
The general purpose of a fixative is to act as medium where the other components of a perfume blend and mature and are then dispersed over a longer period of time than lighter, more volatile essences would on their own. In the realm of natural fixatives though, it is important to realize that few of them have the ability to hold and release the aromatic components of a perfume as long as synthetic, aromatic molecules created in the laboratory.

Natural fixatives(which we stock) are of several distinct types.
1.Those that have very mild aromatic properties(i.e. amyris eo, cabreuva eo, siamwood eo, guiacawood eo, sandalwood eo, balsam gurjun eo, copaiba eo, muhuhu eo etc) The essences in this category can be used in quite high percentages-up to 50% without significantly impacting the olfactory properties of the composition and a number of them are relatively inexpensive
allowing the perfumer to create a lovely perfume at a reasonable cost.

2. Those with more distinct but still mild aromatic properties(frankincense absolute and co2, sage clary absolute, balsam tolu absolute, benzoin absolute, peru balsam eo and abs, eaglewood eo, myrrh abs, Texas cedarwood, Atlas cedarwood abs etc) Fixatives in this category may be used up to 15%-20% in blends depending on the effect one wishes to achieve
3. Those with pronounced olfactory properties(vetiver eo, nagarmotha eo, ambergris(botanical) melange, sweet amber melange, galbanum co2 and abs, labdanum eo and abs, myrrh eo and co2, zdravetz eo, patchouli eo and abs, spikenard eo, stryax eo and abs, orris root abs and co2, oakmoss abs, ambrette seed abs, angelica root eo, musk(botanical) melange, tonka bean absolute etc) Fixatives in this category are generally used in smaller percentages 10% or lower. Angelica Root for example may have a profound effect on a composition in amounts below 1%
One of the great challenges for the perfumer is to find the fixative that matches the theme of the perfume they are creating. Sometimes it is not just one fixative but several blended together often drawn from more than one of the above categories that proves most effective.
In short fixatives are in themselves a wonderful realm to explore.
Most of the essences used as fixatives are extracted or distilled from roots, resins and woods. There are unlimited possiblities in
the creation of unique unique fixatives many of which would be superb liquid incense perfumes in themselves.

By Moorland and Sea ... By Francis Arnold Knight

Down the Year by C. Du Fay Robertson

Down the Year by C. Du Fay Robertson(click here to read book)

Fragrance In Travel Literature-Way of the White Clouds by LAMA ANAGARIKA GOVINDA

Way of the White Clouds-LAMA ANAGARIKA GOVINDA

Sometimes a glance, a few casual words, fragments of a melody
floating through the quiet air of a summer evening, a book that acciden-
tally comes into our hands, a poem or a memory-laden fragrance, may
bring about the impulse which changes and determines our whole life.

While writing this, the delicate resinous scent of Tibetan incense is
wafted through the shrine-room of my little hermitage and immediately
calls up the memory of the place where for the first rime I became
acquainted with this particular variety I see myself seated in the dimly
lit hall of a Tibetan temple, surrounded by a pantheon of fantastic fig-
ures some of them peaceful and benevolent, some wild and frightening and
others enigmatic and mysterious; but all full of life and colour,
though emanating from the depth of dark shadows.

The long rows of seats in the temple hall were filled to the last
place, and some new rows had been added. The huge cauldrons in the
adjacent kitchen building were tilled with boiling tea and soup, to be
served in the intervals during the service in the temple. The temple hall
was lit up by more than a thousand butler-lamps, and bundles of
incense-sticks wafted clouds of fragrant smoke into the air and wove
bluish veils around the golden images high above the congregation.

It was all so utterly fantastic and surprising that we could only stare
at the majestic figure that occupied the golden throne and was clad in
magnificent brocades and crowned by a jewel-studded golden tiara with
the three eyes of the all-seeing spirit. A shining golden breast-plate, the
magic mirror, engraved with the sacred syllable -HRT', was suspended
from his neck. Like a vision of one of the legendary emperors of old, a
mighty ruler of a vanished world, resplendent with all the attributes of
power, the figure was of almost super-human size and appearance, and
for a moment we wondered whether it was a statue or a living giant. At this
moment the full orchestra of radongs and clarinets, c)'mbals and kettle-
drums rose to a crescendo, while the deep voices of a choir of monks
chanted invocations to the powerful protectors, punctuating their recita-
tion with bells and dantauis. Clouds of fragrant smoke rose from various
censers, and the crowd stood in petrified attention, everybody's eyes riv-
eted upon the majestic figure on the golden throne. His eyes were
closed; his feet, in big ceremonial Tibetan boots, were firmly planted
before him on the ground.

Also, among the plants of this region are many herbs of medicinal
value and others which can be used as incense and which are highly val-
ued for their wonderful fragrance. Ail these things are regarded as
'■prasads', as the gifts of the gods to the pilgrim. There are many other
'prasads, each of them pertaining to a particular locality.

To him the Guru was ever present, and daily he would prepare his
seat, shake and refold his robe, fill up his teacup (before he would sip
his own tea), polish and replenish the water-howls and butter-lamps,
light the incense-sticks, recite the formulas of worship and dedication,
and sit in silent meditation before the shrines, thus performing all the
duties of a religious life and of a devoted disciple. Serving the Guru was
to him the highest form of divine service — it was equal to serving the

And he took him. together with his father and his little brother, into
the monastery, where Maung Tun Kyaing pointed out the room which he
had occupied in the eastern wing of the building, the place where he
used to meditate, the particular image before which be used to light can-
dles and incense, and many other details which the old Thera remem-
bered. After all, it was not so many years ago that U Pandeissa had been
the abbot of Yunkhyaung, as the monastery was called.

Also outside the monastery there was plenty to do in the way of
sketching and photographing. We certainly had not a dull moment, and
in between we had ample opportunities of discussing religious questions
with Ajo Rimpoche. the Umdze, the httle Tulku's learned tutor (Gergen)
and some of the Trapas. Outstanding among the latter was the Konyer
(sgo-nyer), who was in charge of the main Lhakhangs. performing the
daily offerings of water, light, and incense, and keeping everything clean
and shining.

In measured dance-steps and with mystic gestures they
circle the open space around the tall prayer-flag in the centre of the
courtyard, while the rhythmically swinging and ebbing sounds of a full
monastic orchestra mingle with the recitation of holy scriptures and
prayers, invoking the blessings of Buddhas and saints and glorifying their
deeds and words. Clouds of incense rise to heaven and the air vibrates
with the deep voices of giant trombones and drums.

The procedure was as simple as it was ingenious and impressive.
While Phiyang Lama intoned the mantras of consecration, he held an
earthen bowl with fire in his left hand, and with the other he threw a fine
incense powder (made of some local shrub or tree-bark) through the
open flame, issuing from the bowl. The powder ignited instantly, and
being thrown in the direction of the devotees, who were sitting in a
group before the Lama, the fire enveloped them for a moment in a flash-
like flame that vanished before it could burn anybody

The Smell of Earth by G. Clarke Nuttall

A BRIGHT fine evening after a day of rain is one of Nature's compensations. The air is peculiarly sweet and fresh, as though the rain had washed all evil out of it. The mind, relieved from the depressing influence of continuous rain, is exhilarated, and, above all, the strong smell of the earth rises up with a scent more pleasing than many a fragrant essence. In the town, indeed, this earthy smell is often obscured by the bricks and mortar which cover the land, and by the stronger, less wholesome, odours of human life, but in the country it has full sway, and fills the whole air with its presence. Even a slight shower, particularly after drought, is sufficient to bring out the sweet familiar smell of the land and thrust it upon our notice.

The smell of freshly-turned earth is often regarded by country lovers as one of the panaceas for the ills of the flesh, and “follow a plough-share and you will find health at its tail” has proved a sound piece of advice to many a weakly town-sick one, over whose head the threatenings of consumption hung like the sword of Damocles, though it is possible that it is the fresh air, and more especially the sunshine, which are the saving media, and not the mere smell.  

But what do we know about this characteristic smell of the soil? Can we regard it as the mere attribute of the soil as a simple substance, such an attribute as is, for instance, the peculiar smell of leather, or the odour of indiarubber; or can we go deeper and find that it is really an expression of complexity below?

Strangely enough this is the case, for the smell of damp earth is one of the latest signposts we have found which lead us into a world which, until recently, was altogether beyond our ken. It points us to the presence, in the ground beneath us, of large numbers of tiniest organisms, and not merely to their presence only, but to their activity and life, and reveals quite a new phase of this activity. A handful of loose earth picked up in a field by the hedgerow, or from a garden, no longer represents to us a mere conglomeration of particles of inorganic mineral matter, “simply that and nothing more”; we realise now that it is the home of myriads of the smallest possible members of the great kingdom of plants, who are, in particular, members of the fungus family in that kingdom, plants so excessively minute that their very existence was undreamt of until a few years ago. 

Some faint idea of their relative size, and of the numbers in which they inhabit the earth, may be gleaned from the calculations of an Italian, Signor A. Magiora, who, a short time ago, made a study of the question. He took samples of earth from different places round about Turin and examined them carefully. In ordinary cultivated agricultural soil he found there would be eleven millions of these germs in the small quantity of a gramme, a quantity whose smallness will be appreciated when it is remembered that a thousand grammes only make up about two and a quarter pounds of our English measure. Thus, a shovelfull of earth would be the home of a thousand times eleven millions of bacteria—but the finite mind cannot grasp numbers of such magnitude. In soil taken from the street, and, therefore, presumably more infected with germs, he calculated that there was the incredible number of seventyeight million bacteria to the gramme. Sandy soil is comparatively free from them, only about one thousand being discovered in the same amount taken from Sandy dunes outside Turin. 

But though the workers were hidden yet their works were known, for what they do is out of all proportion to what they are; in fact they perform the deeds of giants, not those of veriest dwarfs. “By their works shall ye know them” might be a fitting aphorism to describe the bacteria of the soil. And the nature of their deeds is widely various, for though the different groups are members of one great family, yet, like the individuals of a human family that is well organized, they have each of them their special vocation. In the spring time, when the Sun warms the chilly earth, they act upon the husks that have protected the seeds against the rigours of the winter, and crumble them up so that the seedling is free to grow; they break down the stony wall of the cherry and plum which has hitherto imprisoned the embryo ; and then, when the young plant starts, they attach themselves to its roots, assist it to take in all sorts of nutriment from air and soil, and thus help it in its fight through life, and when its
course has run they decently bury it. They turn the green leaves and the woody stem and the dark root back into the very elements from which they were built up; they effect its decay and putrefaction, and resolve it into earth again. “Dust to dust, ashes to ashes,” is the great life work of the earth bacteria.  

But up to the present the fresh smell of the earth, the smell peculiar to it, has not been in any way associated with these energetic organisms, and it is quite a new revelation to find that it is a direct outcome of their activity. Among the many bacteria which inhabit the soil, a new one, hitherto unknown, has been just recently isolated and watched. It lives, as is usual with them, massed into colonies, which have a chalky-white appearance, and as it develops and increases in numbers it manifests itself by the familiar smell of damp earth, hence the name that has been given it—Cladothric odorifera. Taken singly it is a colourless thread-like body, which increases numerically by continuous sub-divisions into two in the direction of its length. It derives its nutriment from substances in the soil, which either are, or have been, touched by the subtle influence of life, and in the processes of growth and development it evolves from these materials a compound whose volatilizing gives the odour in question. This compound has not yet been fully examined; it is not named, nor have all its properties been satisfactorily elucidated, but two facts concerning it stand out clearly. One is that it is the true origin of the smell that we have hitherto attributed to earth simply; and the other, that it changes into vapour under the same conditions as water does. Therefore, when the sun, shining after the rain, draws up the water from the earth in vapour form, it draws up, too, the odorous atoms of this newly-found compound, and these atoms, floating in the air, strike on our olfactory nerves, and it is then we exclaim so often, “How fresh the earth smells after the rain.” 

Though moisture, to a certain extent, is a necessary condition of the active work of these bacteria, yet the chief reason why the earthy smell should be specially noticeable after the rain is probably because this compound has been accumulating in the soil during the wet period. We only smell substances when they are in vapour form, and since the compound under consideration has precisely the same properties in this respect as water, it will only assume gaseous form when the rain ceases. The bacteria have, however, been hard at work all the time, and when the sun shines and “drying ” begins, then the accumulated stores commence their transformation into vapour, and the strong smell strikes upon our senses. For the same reason we notice a similar sort of smell, though in a lesser degree, from freshly-turned earth. This is more moist than the earth at the surface, and hence, on exposing it, evaporation immediately begins, which quickly makes itself known to us through our olfactory nerves. 

It may also have been remarked that this particular odour is always stronger after a warm day than after a cold one, and is much more noticeable in summer than in winter. This is because moderate warmth is highly conducive to the greater increase of these organisms, and, in fact, in the summer they are present in far larger numbers and exhibit greater vitality than in the winter, when they are often more or less quiescent. 

Two other characteristics of Cladothrix odorifera are worthy of notice as showing the tenacity with which it clings to life. It is capable of withstanding extremely long periods of drought without injury; its development may be completely arrested (for water in some degree is a necessity with all living things, from highest to lowest) but its vitality remains latent, and with the advent of water comes back renewed activity. But besides drought it is pretty well proof against poisons. It can even withstand a fairly large dose of that most harmful poison to the vegetable world, Corrosive Sublimate. Hence any noxious matter introduced into the soil would harm it little ultimately; the utmost it could do would be to retard it for a time. 

This, then, is the history of the smell of earth as scientists have declared it unto us, and its recital serves to further point the moral that the most obvious, the most commonplace things of everyday life—things that we have always taken simply for granted without question or interest—may yet have a story hidden beneath them. Like signposts in a foreign land, they may be speaking, though in a language not always comprehended by us, of most fascinating regions, regions we may altogether miss to our great loss, if we neglect ignorantly the directions instead of learning to comprehend them.

Fragrance in Travel Literature-Morocco, by S.L. Bensusan

Morocco, by S.L. Bensusan

This little corner of the world, close to the meeting of the Atlantic and Mediterranean waters, epitomises in its own quiet fashion the story of the land's decay. Now it is a place of wild bees and wilder birds, of flowers and bushes that live fragrant untended lives, seen by few and appreciated by none. It is a spot so far removed from human care that I have seen, a few yards from the tents, fresh tracks made by the wild boar as he has rooted o' nights; and once, as I sat looking out over the water when the rest of the camp was asleep, a dark shadow passed, not fifty yards distant, going head to wind up the hill, and I knew it for "tusker" wending his way to the village gardens, where the maize was green.

We rode past the low-walled gardens, where pomegranate and apricot trees were flowering, and strange birds I did not know sang in the deep shade. Doves flitted from branch to branch, bee-eaters darted about among mulberry and almond trees. There was an overpowering fragrance from the orange groves, where blossom and unplucked fruit showed side by side; the jessamine bushes were scarcely less fragrant. Spreading fig-trees called every passer to enjoy their shade, and the little rivulets, born of the Tensift's winter floods to sparkle through the spring and die in June, were fringed with willows. It was delightful to draw rein and listen to the plashing of water and the cooing of doves, while trying in vain to recognise the most exquisite among many sweet scents.

I looked out of my little room that opened on to the patio. The arch of heaven was swept and garnished, and from "depths blown clear of cloud" great stars were shining whitely. The breeze of early morning stirred, penetrating our barred outer gates, and bringing a subtle fragrance from the beflowered groves that lie beyond the city. It had a freshness that demanded from one, in tones too seductive for denial, prompt action. Moreover, we had been rising before daylight for some days past in order that we might cover a respectable distance before the Enemy should begin to blaze intolerably above our heads, commanding us to seek the shade of some chance fig-tree or saint's tomb.

Straightway men and beasts made their way through the narrow cobbled lanes. Sneering camels, so bulked out by their burdens that a foot-passenger must shrink against the wall to avoid a bad bruising; well-fed horses, carrying some early-rising Moor of rank on the top of seven saddle-cloths; half-starved donkeys, all sores and bruises; one encountered every variety of Moorish traffic here, and the thoroughfare, that had been deserted a moment before, was soon thronged. In addition to the Moors and Susi traders, there were many slaves, black as coal, brought in times past from the Soudan. From garden and orchard beyond the city the fruit and flowers and vegetables were being carried into their respective markets, and as they passed the air grew suddenly fragrant with a scent that was almost intoxicating. The garbage that lay strewn over the cobbles had no more power to offend, and the fresh scents added in some queer fashion of their own to the unreality of the whole scene.

We had ridden in single file through a part where the lotus, now a tree instead of a bush, snatched at us on either side, and the air was fragrant with broom, syringa, and lavender. Behind us the path closed and was hidden; before us it was too thick to see more than a few yards ahead. Here and there some bird would scold and slip away, with a flutter of feathers and a quiver of the leaves through which it fled; while ever present, though never in sight, the cuckoo followed us the whole day long. Suddenly and abruptly the path ended by the side of a stream where great oleanders spread their scarlet blossoms to the light, and kingfishers darted across the pools that had held tiny fish in waters left by the rainy season. When we pushed our horses to the brink the bushes on either hand showered down their blossoms as though to greet the first visitors to the rivulet's bank. Involuntarily we drew rein by the water's edge, acknowledging the splendour of the scene with a tribute of silence. If you have been in the Western Highlands of Scotland, and along the Levantine Riviera, and can imagine a combination of the most fascinating aspects of both districts, you have but to add to them the charm of silence and complete seclusion, the sense of virgin soil, and the joy of a perfect day in early summer, and then some faint picture of the scene may present itself. It remains with me always, and the mere mention of the Argan Forest brings it back.

The forest was left behind, the land grew bare, and from a hill-top I saw the Atlantic some five or six miles away, a desert of sand stretching between. We were soon on these sands—light, shifting, and intensely hot—a Sahara in miniature save for the presence of the fragrant broom in brief patches here and there. It was difficult riding, and reduced the pace of the pack-mules to something under three miles an hour. As we ploughed across the sand I saw Suera itself, the Picture City of Sidi M'godol, a saint of more than ordinary repute, who gave the city the name by which it is known to Europe. Suera or Mogador is built on a little tongue of land, and threatens sea and sandhills with imposing fortifications that are quite worthless from a soldier's point of view. Though the sight of a town brought regretful recollection that the time of journeying was over, Mogador, it must be confessed, did much to atone for the inevitable. It looked like a mirage city that the sand and sun had combined to call into brief existence—Moorish from end to end, dazzling white in the strong sun of early summer, and offering some suggestion of social life in the flags that were fluttering from the roof-tops of Consuls' houses. A prosperous city, one would have thought, the emporium for the desert trade with Europe, and indeed it was all this for many years. Now it has fallen from its high commercial estate; French enterprise has cut into and diverted the caravan routes, seeking to turn all the desert traffic to Dakkar, the new Bizerta in Senegal, or to the Algerian coast.

We passed the graveyard of the Protestants and Catholics, a retired place that pleaded eloquently in its peacefulness for the last long rest that awaits all mortal travellers. Much care had made it less a cemetery than a garden, and it literally glowed and blazed with flowers—roses, geraniums, verbena, and nasturtiums being most in evidence. A kindly priest of the order of St. Francis invited us to rest, and enjoy the colour and fragrance of his lovingly-tended oasis. And while we rested, he talked briefly of his work in the town, and asked me of our journey. The place reminded me strongly of a garden belonging to another Brotherhood of the Roman Catholic Church, and set at Capernaum on the Sea of Galilee, where, a few years ago, I saw the monks labouring among their flowers, with results no less happy than I found here.

Alas, that modern knowledge should have destroyed all faith in old legend! The fabled fruits of the Hesperides turn to oranges in the hands of our wise men, the death-dealing dragon becomes Wad Lekkus itself, so ready even to-day to snarl and roar at the bidding of the wind that comes up out of the south-west, and the dusky maidens of surpassing loveliness are no more than simple Berber girls, who, whilst doubtless dusky, and possibly maidenly as ever, have not inherited much of the storied beauty of their forbears. In spite of this modern perversion of the old tale I find that the oranges of the dining-table have a quite rare charm for me to-night,—such an attraction as they have had hitherto only when I have picked them in the gardens of Andalusia, or in the groves that perfume the ancient town of Jaffa at the far eastern end of the Mediterranean. Now I have one more impression to cherish, and the scent of a blossoming orange tree will recall for me El Araish as I saw it at the moment when the shroud of evening made the mosques and the kasbah of Mulai al Yazeed melt, with the great white spaces between them, into a blurred pearly mass without salient feature.

As it happened, Djedida was the steamer's next port of call, so we made haste to return to her hospitable decks. I carried with me a vivid impression of Dár el Baida, of the market-place with its varied goods, and yet more varied people, the white Arabs, the darker Berbers, the black slaves from the Soudan and the Draa. Noticeable in the market were the sweet stores, where every man sat behind his goods armed with a feather brush, and waged ceaseless war with the flies, while a corner of his eye was kept for small boys, who were well nigh as dangerous. I remember the gardens, one particularly well. It belongs to the French Consul, and has bananas growing on the trees that face the road; from beyond the hedge one caught delightful glimpses of colour and faint breaths of exquisite perfume.

Wealthy merchants had brought their horses within the shadow of the sok's[6] high walls and loosened the many-clothed saddles. Slaves walked behind their masters or trafficked on their behalf. The snake-charmer, the story-teller, the beggar, the water-carrier, the incense seller, whose task in life is to fumigate True Believers, all who go to make the typical Moorish crowd, were to be seen indolently plying their trade. But inquiries for mules, horses, and servants for the inland journey met with no ready response. Dár el Baida, I was assured, had nothing to offer; Djedida, lower down along the coast, might serve, or Saffi, if Allah should send weather of a sort that would permit the boat to land.

Perfume of an Evening Primrose by William Henry Hudson


I Sometimes walk in a large garden where the evening primrose is permitted to grow, but only at the extreme end of the ground, thrust away, as it were, back against the unkept edge with its pretty tangle of thorn, briar, and woodbine, to keep company there with a few straggling poppies, with hollyhock, red and white foxglove, and other coarse and weed-like plants, all together forming a kind of horizon, dappled with colour, to the garden on that side, a suitable background, to the delicate more valued blooms. It has a neglected appearance, its tall straggling stems insufficiently clothed with leaves, leaning away from contact with the hedge; a plant of somewhat melancholy aspect, suggesting to a fanciful mind the image of a maiden originally intended by Nature to be her most perfect type of grace and ethereal loveliness, but who soon out-grew her strength with all beauty of form, and who now wanders abroad, careless of appearances, in a faded flimsy garment, her fair yellow hair dishevelled, her mournful eyes fixed ever on the earth where she will shortly be.
I never pass this weedy, pale-flowered alien without stooping to thrust my nose into first one blossom then another, and still another, until that organ, like some industrious bee, is thickly poweredwith the golden dust. If, after an interval, I find myself once more at the same spot, I repeat this performance with as much care as if it was a kind of religious ceremony it would not be safe to omit; and at all times I am as reluctant to pass without approaching my nose to it, as the great Dr. Johnson was to pass a street-post without touching it with his hand. Mymotive, however,is not a superstitious one, nor is it merely one of those meaningless habits which men sometimes contract, and of which they are scarcely conscious. When I first knew the evening primrose, where it is both a wild and a garden flower and very common, I did not often smell at it, but was satisfied to inhale its subtle fragrance from the air. And this reminds me that in England it does not perfume the air as it certainly does on the pampas of La Plata, in the early morning in places where it is abundant; here its fragrance, while unchanged in character, has either become less volatile or so diminished in quantity that one is not sensible that the flower possesses a perfume until he approaches his nose to it.
My sole motive in smelling the evening primrose is the pleasure it gives me. This pleasure greatly surpasses that which I receive from other flowers far more famous for their fragrance, for it is in a great degree mental, and is due to association. Why is this pleasure so vivid, so immeasurably greater than the mental pleasure afforded by the sight of the flower? The books tell us that sight, the most important of our senses, is the most intellectual; while smell, the least important, is in man the most emotional sense. This is a very brief statement of the fact; I will now restate it another way and more fully.
I am now holding an evening primrose in my hand. As a fact at this moment I am holding nothing but the pen with which I am writing this chapter; but I am supposing myself kback in the garden, and holding the flower that first suggested this train of thought. I turn it about this way and that, and although it pleases it does not delight, does not move me: certainly I do not think very highly of its beauty, although it is beautiful; placed beside the rose, the fuchsia, the azalea, or the lily, it would not attract the eye. But it is a link with the past, it summons vanished scenes to my mind. I recognize that the plant I plucked it from possesses a good deal of adaptiveness, a quality one would scarcely suspect from seeing it only in an English garden. Thus I remember that I first knew it as a garden flower, that it grew large, on a large plant, as here; that on summer evenings I was accustomed to watch its slim, pale, yellow buds unfold, and called it, when speaking in Spanish, by its quaint native name of James of the night, and, in English, primrose simply. I recall with a smile that it was a shock to my childish mind to learn that our primrose was not the primrose. Then, I remember, came the time when I could ride out over the plain; and it surprised me to discover that this primrose, unlike the four-o'clock and morningglory, and other evening flowers in our garden, was also a wild flower. I knew it by its unmistakable perfume, but on those plains, where the grass was cropped close, the plant was small, only a few inches high, and the flowers no bigger than buttercups. Afterwards I met with it again in the swampy woods and everglades along the Plata River; and there it grew tall and rank, five or six feet high in some cases, with large flowers that had only a faint perfume. Still later, going on longer expeditions, sometimes with cattle, I found it in extraordinary abundance on the level pampas south of the Salado River; there it was a tall slender plant, grass-like among the tall grasses, with wide open flowers about an inch in diameter, and not more than two or three on each plant. Finally, I remember that on first landing in Patagonia, on a desert part of the coast, the time being a little after daybreak, I became conscious of the familiar perfume in the air, and, looking about me, discovered a plant growing on the barren sand not many yards from the sea; there it grew, low and bush-like in form, with stiff horizontal stems and a profusion of small symmetrical flowers.
All this about the plant, and much more, with many scenes and events of the past, are suggested to my mind by the flower in my hand; but while these scenes and events are recalled with pleasure, it is a kind of mental pleasure that we frequently experience, and very slight in degree. But when I approach the flower to my face and inhale its perfume, then a shock of keen pleasure is experienced, and a mental change so great that it is like a miracle. For a space of time so short that if it could be measured it would probably be found to occupy no more than a fraction of a second, I am no longer in an English garden recalling and consciously thinking about that vanished past, but during that brief moment time and space seem annihilated and the past is now. I am again on the grassy pampas, where I have been sleeping
very soundly under the stars,—would that I could now sleep as soundly under a roof! It is the moment of wakening, when my eyes are just opening to the pure over-arching sky, flushed in its eastern half with tender colour'; and at the moment that nature thus reveals itself to my vision in its exquisite morning beauty and freshness, I am sensible of the subtle primrose perfume in the air. The blossoms are all about me, for miles and for leagues on that great level expanse, as if the morning wind had blown them out of that eastern sky, and scattered their pale yellow stars in millions over the surface of the tall sere grass.
I do not say that this shock of pleasure I have described, this vivid reproduction of a long past scene, is experienced each time I smell the flower; it is experienced fully only at long intervals, after weeks and months, when the fragrance is, so to speak, new to me, and afterwards in a lesser degree on each repetition, until the feeling is exhausted. If I continue to smell again and again at the flower, I do it only as a spur to memory; or in a mechanical way, just as a. person might always walk along a certain path with his eyes fixed on the ground, remembering that he once on a time dropped some valuable article there, and although he knows that it. was lost irrecoverably, he still searches the ground for it.
Other vegetable odours affect me in a similar way, but in a very much fainter degree, except in one or two cases. Thus, the Lombardy poplar was one of the trees I first became acquainted with in childhood, and it has ever since been a pleasure to me to see it; but in spring, when its newly opened leaves give out their peculiar aroma, for a moment, when I first smell it, I am actually a boy again, among the tall poplar trees, their myriads of heartshaped leaves rustling to the hot November windand sparkling like silver in the brilliant sunshine.

Placing an Order with White Lotus Aromatics

Placing an Order with White Lotus Aromatics

1. There is a $100 wholesale minimum(we are wholesale only)

2. All orders that meet the $100 minimum ship for free using UPS Ground

3. A sample order need not meet the $100 minimum but we request that no more than
10 samples be made at a time as it is the most time consuming part of what we do.
Sample prices are posted next to each oil. There is a flat $5.50 shipping fee for sample orders.

4. Washington State residents are required to provide us with a Washington Resellers Permit.
It can be sent as an email attachment( or faxed to us 360-452-6361.

5. We are a simple two person operation(Suzanne and I) endeavoring to source unique essential oils, co2 extracts, absolutes, etc from distillers and extractors around the world. But the only paperwork available are the MSDS and COA which are posted on the web site for each oil. Click the name of an essence in the shipping area and it will take you to a page with an olfactory description of the oil. At the bottom of the page are the MSDS and COA buttons. Press the button and it will bring up that document. We do not send the MSDS and COA with orders. You will need to print it out for your own records if you require them.

6. No allergin reports, batch specific gc/ms, third party organic certification, etc are available from us. If paperwork is a need of your business then we recommend that you work with a company larger than us who can provide you with what you need.

7. Bottles do not come with orifice reducers. You can get bottles with orifice reducers from Speciality Bottle Company. They do not have a minimum so you can order as much or as little as you like.

8. I always recommend that customers order samples of oils they are not famaliar with. In nature there are variations of olfactory properties of the very same genus and species of essential oil depending on many factors including place where grown, distillation technique, soil types, etc.
Variation is bound to occur in naturally grown aromatic plants.

9. There are no refunds on samples but on any size beyond sample size we will certainly accept returns but there is 20% restocking fee and the customer will need to pay the shipping charges back to us. It is for this reason also that I recommend getting samples first as it eliminates the expense of returning items that do not resonate with one.

10. I do not have any genuine knowledge of therapeutic use of essential oils. My entire relationship with the oils is through their olfactory properties. Hence I am not competent to give any guidance as to the use of the oils for therapeutic purposes.

11. All essences we offer are for external use only(not for internal consumption)