212 STATE HOETICULTURAL SOCIETY. 



ivy, then I see a home [on the up-grade, a home where refinement will dominate, 

 and where there shall be a refreshing fountain of beauty for life's toilsome way. 



How well God did for man when He set the first pair in that garden full of 

 glowing, luxuriant bloom, thornless, weedless, exuberant, watered by four rivers! 

 I have often wondered why they did not stay there in peace. Apples ! What were 

 all the golden apples of Hesperides, compared to such riot of roses as I have seen 

 in December hanging over an Italian walll What are apples, compared to avenueB- 

 of tall white lilies pouring out perfume; to glad successions of hyacinths, and 

 splendid tulips, and gorgeous chrysanthemums ! O, Paradise, what weary lot was 

 ours when our first parents left those lawns embroidered with crocus and anemone, 

 those dreamful beds of poppies, those borders of violets, the crowning richness of 

 lilacs and rhododendons and laburnums, of myrtles and jessamine, for the dusty 

 ways of trade or the hard furrow ! 



At least let us have about and in our homes such stray beds of Eden as are 

 left to us. Then shall the eyes of our children be full of fair hopes and pleasant 

 thoughts, and beautiful as pansies dipped in dew ; so shall their fingers be trained 

 to gentle touches, and they shall gather some of the mystery of being as they 

 nurture young plants; growing seeds shall teach them lessons of life, and bulbs 

 shall point to them of the resurrection. 



Sweet singers should plead to you for music in the home, and should tell you 

 how in accordant voices raised in solemn hymn or lighter roundelay, grievances 

 and animosities die, and he who has learned something of the harmony of heaven 

 shares something of the heart of heaven. 



I think a home where the pleasing tones of lovingly touched instruments are 

 heard and voices are raised in cheerful concert is a home which attracts to it the 

 best in its neighborhood, and will be never lonely, never abandoned because it is all 

 so dull and dreary. 



Grasp now in petto the picture of a home of true culture. The preferences of 

 the individual are cultivated ; there is leisure for rest, for improvement, for the 

 inmates to get acquainted with each other ; there are books to refine the mind and 

 to keep one abreast with the times ; there are pictures to inform the taste and ele- 

 vate the thoughts ; there are flowers full of balm and tender Interests— and here I 

 would not even hint how quietly every shrub and vine and tree Increases the mar- 

 ket value of our homes. Finally, there Is music to sound a lullaby to cares and 

 evil passions and charm unrest to peace. 



Surely this Is the Home of God and this is the Gate of Heaven ! 



NATURE ANi) HER LESSONS. 



MRS. IRENE DICU8 BERRY. 



The history of horticulture is coeval with that of man. Tis this branch of 

 industry that preserves the traditions of his earliest experiences, and is borne 

 along in closest connection with him, from the time his history emerges from the 

 dim past, to the present day of advanced civilization. 



When the heavens and earth were finished, and the Lord formed man of the 

 dust of the ground, before it was considered fit for habitation, a garden was planted 

 eastward in Eden, and out of the ground was made to grow ever treey that is pleas- 

 ant to the sight and good for food. 



A river flowed through Eden to water the garden, and God placed Adam 

 within the grounds that he might dres? and keep them. 



