306 BOAED OF AGKldULTUEE. 



culturist today where tlie wife is one of those weak-minded women seek- 

 ing to better the conditions of her husband, preparing that which is 

 pleasant to his taste, and I will show you one that is alert to his success. 



But if there were no fruits forbidden, no joys to be denied; if the heart 

 was never tempted and the soul was never tried; if there were no thorny 

 pathways like the bravest feet have trod, the heart would grow indifferent 

 and wander off from God. 



I am a horticulturist because its pleasures are not confined to a few, but 

 are so widespread that even the mechanic, the merchant, the banker, the 

 clerk, the rich and poor alike can rest from their labors 'neath the shadows 

 of their own vine and fig tree. The farmer that follows his plow and 

 boasts of his broad acres of waving grain, his fields of tasseling corn and 

 his meadows of sweet mown hay finds the one spot which is most attract- 

 ive to him to be the horticultural department of his home; that Eden 

 where Eve as of old is striving to make his home a paradise. 



Oh, where could life be half so sweet, 



So free from care and harm, 

 So independent and complete 



As on a well-kept farm? 



The horticulturist is a social character. With the aid of his happy 

 family (for they are all members of our society) he brings to our meetings 

 baskets overfiowing with the best of his larder, saying nothing of the 

 yellow-legged chickens and finest of fruits and flowers which satisfy the 

 eye as well as the taste. Then he is a botanist. He goes down into the 

 depths of the flowers, whose language speaks to the eye and the emotions 

 of the heart. Thus the rose and the myrtle are symbols of love, the violet 

 of modesty, the daisy of innocence, the lily of purity and sweetness, the 

 orange blossom of charity, the laurel of glory, the amaranth of immortal- 

 ity and the ivy of fidelity. Each, speaking in its beauty and fragrance, 

 arouses the better feelings and emotions of the heart. We touch them and 

 we enjoy their sweetness; and if we but understand the language they 

 speak to us we are made happy and feel the gentle influence of the sweet- 

 est things God ev6r made and forgot to put souls in. Flowers are capable of 

 developing a love of beauty even where it does not now exist and also of 

 strengthening it where it does exist. It is doubtful if a depraved nature 

 could give full rein to its depravity when surrounded by the beautiful in 

 art or in nature. There are instances on record of the softening of hard 

 natures by the influence of flowers, and has not the criminal been brought 

 to tears at the sight of a bouquet of old-fashioned red roses? They re- 

 minded him, he said, brokenly, of the roses in his mother's garden. Like 

 old songs, they will come up in memory, at least some time, to be recog- 

 nized and welcomed by the heart that has traveled back, ah, how far, to 

 the old home under the hills, where in childhood's merry hours they used 

 to play in the shadow of lofty trees, fanned by the passing breeze. And 



