178 ANNUAL REPOET. 



of practical workmen, are often but extended applications of 

 principles in natural philosophy. To discover laws of nature and 

 habits of plants and insects, there must be close and long-contin_ 

 ued observation. By time the facts are gathered there will have 

 been much excellent mental exercise and discipline besides. So 

 great is the variety of grasses, plants, trees, flowers, and fruits, that 

 there is as much scope for judgment and taste in arranging yards 

 and gardens, as in designing and painting pictures. Landscape 

 gardening indeed rises to the dignit/of a fine art. To be sure, one 

 may ignorantly plant and successfully gather, yet such is not 

 likely to be the case. 



Women are expected to be the teachers of refinement. They 

 ought, therefore, to fit themselves for this work in God's great 

 Normal school of beauty. A story is told about a plant, which 

 was given to a poor family, who could not see it through their dirty 

 window, and in consequence, washed the glass. Then the room, 

 by contrast, seemed very grimy, and was cleaned throughout. The 

 flower looked so well, they added other adornments to their home. 

 Neighbors caught their enthusiasm, and, ultimately, the aspect of 

 a whole block was changed by the ministry of a flower. "Picciola" 

 may be familiar, that French classic, with the further merit of 

 being true, which relates how Count de Charney, gay, accomplished, 

 and skeptical, being cast into prison, was cured of his moral and 

 physical disorders by a little plant, which thus achieved what 

 neither books nor men had been able to do. The prisoner wrote 

 on his cell wall '' Chance is the sole author of the creation." A fly- 

 ing dove dropped a solitary seed into his prison yard. The seed 

 was trodden under foot, but a fleshy envelope, afi'ording protection 

 to its first, tender leaves, helped the plumule through the hard crust 

 above it. A frosty night came. The thick bristles upon its stalk 

 were covered with rime, but the plant itself was uninjured. Hail 

 fell, and its leaves closed about the stem, presenting a series of 

 points only. Though nourished b}'^ the same soil, peduncle, leaves, 

 and blossom, each, in some way, appropriated its own hue. When 

 high winds blew, the flower prudently bowed. Charney added 

 "perhaps" to what he had written before on chance. Ill, a decoc- 

 tion of the leaves cured him. Erasing all that was on his cell wall, 

 he then wrote " I belive in Providence." In one severe storm he 

 stationed himself near his favorite, and, bending over, devoted 

 himself, like a lover, to its protection. The coarse, rough jailor 

 became interested. He even watered the plant, and sanctioned 

 removing one of the flag-stones which hindred its growth. Visitors 



