REMARKS ON THE SHRUBBERY. 33 



the gay ball and splendid opera lose their delights ; but the fond- 

 ness for a garden increases, and is almost the only earthly, plea- 

 sure that does increase. Let us not, then, neglect to cultivate a 

 taste for what will form the delight and amusement of the latter 

 period of life. Every tree we plant adds to the entertain- 

 ment we prepare for future years, for ourselves, our friends and 

 successors. 



Should particular times and circumstances require a retrench- 

 ment to be made in domestic expences, it should not begin with 

 the garden. This once neglected or laid aside cannot soon or 

 with small cost be re-established. There are other more expen- 

 sive and less profitable indulgences, which maybe lessened with- 

 out injury; nay, perhaps, with benefit to an establishment. By 

 giving one entertainment less each season in London, more might 

 be saved than by ruining a whole pleasure ground, the only 

 means of subsistence to a few labourers, whose consequent dis- 

 charge exposes them to want, and all the evil that accompany it. 

 The introduction of a useful or an ornamental plant into our 

 island is justly considered as one of the most important servi- 

 ces that a person can render his country ; for it is impossible to 

 calunlate on the benefits that may be derived through his means, 

 when the qualities of the vegetable are ascertained and its virtues 

 known. Even what is introduced and planted merely from cu- 

 riosity or ornament seems to unite us to the nations from whence 

 it comes. It bestows on us a share of the blessings of other cli- 

 mates, and affords us a portion of the smiles of a more genial sun. 

 When, therefore, we dwell on the beauty of exotic trees and 

 shrubs, we wish to be understood as expressing our gratitude to 

 those who have enriched our land with additional charms, and 

 more fully displayed Nature to our eyes, and not as diregarding 

 the plants that are indigenous to our soil. I am aware that 

 many an Englishman has sighed under the shade of the banana, 

 for a sight of his native banks, where the primrose sparkles 

 through the hazel-hedge, and the violet peeps so modestly. The 

 plants of our country recall the idea of it in the most forcible 

 manner, wherever we meet them. They are often the first object 

 that attract the attention of those who have been long absent from 

 their native fields, and who on their return pour out the genuine 

 effusions of joy on beholding the village-elm, the well known oak 

 or the unchanged yew, whose antiquity is equal to the church it 

 shades. We are told of a young Indian Pontaveri, (from Ota- 



