1->S 



A \ D G A R D E N E U 'S JOUR x\ A L. 



ot.. 



yrtfin llif f'.;mfra' Cti^'itict. 

 Dialogue bptwecn a Tathi r and Sou— luflu- 

 ciicc of the I'eiKule Chaiacter. 



Frank. — Knilier, linvc you seen the bcniuiful rose 

 whicli has jiict opened in eieter Susan'e gnrdcn J It ie 

 indeuU cplimlid. 1 don't know how it ie, but I am 

 no match fur Suenn in gnrdoning; she Lne the knnek 

 of mnliing cvciy thing floiiii^^h \vhi::h she cukivatcK; 

 nnd I hnve oi'tcii observed, Ihnt it wu nro planting the 

 cuttings of Howering chriibf, nnd although I might 

 hovu dug the iond ond prepared the cuttings for her, 

 ihcrc is not one in live of her's thntwill die; wliile 

 out of mine, it is only about one in ilvc thnt will live. 

 I he!;in t > think there must be simc truth in the old- 

 fashioned nation, ibol when a man is formed, a w Oman 

 is formed also, the finest portion of the clay being se- 

 lected for this purpose. All that Susan does, is done 

 with the fingers, whereas nil mine seems done by the 

 7^^/^ ';/' thumh. 



I'allicr. — There is certainly a difierence in the way 

 in which you nnd Susan do thing?, but I am by no 

 means inclin^'d to make the comparison to your diend- 

 vantage. I confess there is much beauty in tliat o!d- 

 i'n^hioncd idea which you have mentioned; nnd with 

 us, who kn^w, nnri taste, nnd feel, the value of the 

 ieinale chnraeter, 'tis no wonder that it should hnve 

 Bjme weight: huticcnre fortunate in this respect, re- 

 member. 



Frank. — I declare, I fancy that I perceive a dilTer- 

 encc in the iVagrnnee of sster Susan's flowers, when 

 compared with mine, and certainly they continue lon- 

 ger in bloom. 



Futlicr. — That, I dare say, is only a fancy, yet it is 

 a plenbing one, to which, J suppose, you have not 

 much objection. The idea, ihiit to the finer mould of 

 the femnle is to be attributed the power, which tbcy 

 ndsurcJly porfsuss, of bearing with more fortituile the 

 reverses of fortune, nnd the bereavements of life, than 

 men, is benutiful and eiuite poetical; and many arc the 

 instnn<*e3 which I hnve known, where, nfter sustain- 

 ing her full share of the trouble nnd anguish, conse- 

 quent upon such, the wife has been enabled to impart 

 a portion of her mental courage to the support of n 

 husband, bowed to the earth with the weight of his 

 share of alii clion. ]jike nchinn cup, into which boil- 

 ing water might be poured, and, immediately after, 

 wnter, cold as ice, without fear of breaking — so the 

 heart of woman will expand with prosperity nnd eon- 

 tract with adversity, witljout bursting; while the man, 

 like n brown-ware mug, is d.jne up in half the time ! 



FranU. — Well, I never heard any one advocate so 

 well the cniise of woman, in my life I 



FtdluT. — Ah ha I that reminds me of an occurrence 

 which took i)lace some yeaia ago, and which I must 

 relate it) you. 1 wa? travelling, by conch, in Eng- 

 land, in company with six gentlemen, and a plain, 

 homi.'ly woman, about sixty years of age; the subject 

 of conversation amongst the men was the character of 

 the female sex; and, although they agreed that the 

 women were the iccahcr sex, they dissented in toto 

 to the <loctrine of their being the snftcr. I, as I al- 

 ways d), vindicated their righls nnd pripilrixcs, and 

 on my remarking thnt they were formed of the finer 

 clay, the old lady, who had long felt intense interest 

 in the conversation, exelnimcd, " Well I indeed I nes 

 heard any one talk so well in my life ! I declare it doe- 

 me good to henryou, sir I" About the same time, 1 

 crossed the channel between Rydc and Portsmouth, in 

 a sailing boat, on a stormy day; the passengers had 

 taken their peats, when a very elegant young man, in 

 the military dre5s of a foreigner, (^ame on board and 

 eufpiireil, in broken English, if any lady wanted a 

 protect )r for the pns-age ? The /■////'"«, nil but one 

 old fishwoman, with a basket of fi-h for the Ports- 

 nioutii market, hndnlready been ."suitell with partners, 

 nnd she being the only unprotected femnle, he went 

 nnd tO'ik his seatbeside her, pulled herclo^ik about her 

 hold and feet, and waited upon her with the greatest 

 assiduity. The old w uoan did not at first know what 

 to inalie of it, but after a little, she winked to the rest 

 of the passengers, nnd quite enjoyed it. The gcntle- 

 mnn, seeing tbem smile, said, " gentlemen, I am a 

 knig'it of the Prussian order of the A'urtli Slur; our 

 only bon 1 of union i3 the protection of woman, nt all 

 times nnd in nil places, without regard to age or beau- 

 ty-" 



On our arrival at Portsmouth, he offered the old 

 womnii his arm, look the basket of fish in the other 

 hand, and stepped grncetully on shore, handed her the 

 fish, made her a bow, nnd walked on. 'J'lie old wo- 

 man could contain no longer, but bursling into a scream 

 of 1 uig'iter, she declared that it wns the riimiiirs/ 

 joke tiuit she had ever seen or heard of I 



I grant thnt it is no: 111 your power to imitate your 

 tisier, in 'he dclitmr aiiel gentle way in which she 



n irscs her tender charge — raising their drooping heads, 

 and calhng them '• my prcttice, " (or she, I nm sure 

 you will admit, is one of the fofter ex. All this re- 

 minds me of that heiiutiful poetic gem, " The l^Jymn 

 to the flower.'," by Jlorace Smith, which waspublish- 

 td in the Farmers' Cabinet a few months ogo; the en- 

 dearing epithets with which mo.-t all the verses com- 

 mence, nre peculiarly dclienle and nfitcting; nnd, al- 

 though I have read nnd repented it times innumeruble, 

 f still experience new delight on every Ircth pcrusnl. 

 You must copy it into your book nnd get it by heart, 

 and then von will never be nt a loss for a beautiful 

 simile nt sight ol a bcautl'ul nnd lovely flower. 



Frank. — Oh, I shall never forget thnt heavenly mel- 

 ody. But, Fnther, have you not noticed tliat, meet 

 farmer Sykes when we will, he ii^ alwaysungnig I I 

 never heard neighbor Grabb sing or whistle: 1 think 

 their clay must hnve been difleient in its natiiie at the 

 first, and, while one might be likened to the happy 

 soil, the ether must be (what is the horror of ail good 

 farmers) a weepy soil. 



Father. — Ay, Sykes has n soul to feel, ns well as a 

 tongue to express, by hcavi nly sounds, the luiigunge 

 of the heart. 1 am sure ihat this love of sacred mu- 

 sic might be traced in all thnt he does — in his plough- 

 ing, in his sowing, in his weeding, nnd in his mowing, 

 and especially, in the managing of his entile and hor- 

 ses, to whom he chants his commands, instead of ut- 

 tering them in that brutol tone and expression in gen- 

 eral Uee nmongat farmers; and when we henr ihe ob- 

 servation, *' the farmer's eye makes the horte fat," I 

 cannot but think the iarmer's tongue docs quite as 

 much in that friendly office. And you must often 

 have observed, when Sykes untied his hor.:Cs in the 

 stable, for the purpose of harnessing them for their 

 labor, nnd says, "come n y beauties," how quickly 

 they turn in their stall.s,and ttr tch out their necks and 

 open their mouths to receive Uic bit I and I hnve seen 

 his saddle-horse carry the whip in his mouth and gal- 

 lop with his master on his back I 



Frank — All this is true — but you have been, all this 

 while, drawing your own, as well as former Sykes's 

 [lortrait, you know. 



father. — No one would calculate the advantages a- 

 rising from a mild and gentle spirit wherever cattle, 

 sheep, and other animals nre kept: but we might see 

 this exemplified in the opposite character of those a- 

 round us; for we know that farmer Blunden's two 

 dogs, and his two more savage sons, nre ihe terror of 

 the neighborhood, while his poor nnirnals nre worried 

 almost to death by incessnnt noise nnd driving. His 

 dairy is ruined by such means, for his cows r.re brought 

 up to be milked on the gallop, and their return to pas- 

 ture is a pertect cow-lnnif ! while the bloody cars of his 

 sheep nnd hogs show that the hunters are oiten in at 

 Ihe dentil. Now, they complain that their milk will 

 not keep, and it is notorious thnt they make the worst 

 butler in the neighborhood; and no wonder, for their 

 cows are always in terror nnd dismay. 



Frank. — Yes, nndl cannot help contrasting all this 

 with the quietness and docility of our animals, espe- 

 cially wi;en I see them standing in the yard so peace- 

 fully, chewing the cud, and, upon being spoken to, re- 

 moving the right foot so carefully, to give room for the 

 girl to place the pail for milking, and especially, when 

 she goes to milk Flora, the cow whieh you purchased 

 of Biunden, who, even yet, will not stand quietly un- 

 til the girl commences her song, which she continues 

 d iring the whole operation; after which the animal 

 looks tor the potato or bil of salt, or some other little 

 remembrnnce, which ensures her obedience for the 

 next milking. But there is one thing which 1 hnve 

 observed — they nil move much faster and walk quick- 

 er in the morning than in the evening, and seem brigh- 

 ter and more cheerful; and on their return to pasture, 

 they will often set oil" on the ennler in the morning, 

 while in the evening nil is still and solemn, with a se- 

 riousness which is very stilting — now, hnve you never 

 observed this ? 



Fall'cr. — t have; nnd, in connexion with ttis, it is 

 a remarkable fncl, which you might hnve observed, 

 but which 1 have never seen noticed in books — you 

 may remember tbat we said *' the morning is the 

 lime lor al/arrration, the evening for rejleetinn .-'" 



Frank. — Yes, I shall never forget thnt, for I nm re- 

 minded of the difVerence; as well ns of the aptness of 

 the observation, every morning and every evening. 



Father. — The act of ohserration draws forward the 

 attention — thnt of rejlcrfiun directs it backward, or to 

 the consideration of what is past. Do you under- 

 stand the natural distinction between the two states 

 of mind ? 



Frank. — Perfectly; no one walks in a ehnrehyard 

 n{ amornin!;; the evening is the time for reflection 

 upon the shortness and uncertainly of life. 



Father. — Good. The fact which I allude to is tl] 

 birds which sing in the early morning, do so i; 

 major or sprightly key; while those which Bin] 

 the evening nnd duiing the night, have voices il 

 minor, or key. of piaintivcness. The Engiith t' 

 and skylark, the goldfinch and linnet, nre of the 

 ning class — the black-bird or ouzel, the nighil 

 nnd rcd-brenttt, nnd several others, nre those 

 evening: the one is obscirutisn, the other ie reft 

 personified. 



Frank. — That is extremely eurioUF^ nnd it is 

 nlly 60, ns 1 have often remarked, but v.ithout mi 

 the application, nnd the most dolelul sound 

 heard only nl night, is the cry of ihe owl ! 



Father. — So you see the truth of the remark, 

 "farmers nre, of nil others, the inost favorably 

 ted for observation and reflection," and if they o 

 least enlightened clnssof the community, it is ni 

 wnnt of opportunity to ncciimulnte stores of 

 lion, ol the richest variety. Now, let us close 

 Dialogues. 



frank. — Oh ! but let it be with that sweet ai 

 to sacred music, which farmer Sykcsrepcated to 

 other evening. 



ODK TO SACRED XOTSIC. 

 Queen of every moving measure, 

 S\\ rctcst source of purest ple.isure, 

 Music — wliy tliy power employ, 

 Oi:I) for llie sons of joy ] 

 Only for tlie smiling »aest. 

 At nat,-.l or at nuptial feast ? 

 Ri.llier lily lenient measure pour 

 On tliose whom s^ecrct griets devour ; 

 Dill I'e still ihc Ijlccdiiig heart 

 Of those whom tie.-.th or ahsence part : 

 And with some s. fily-trcnthing air. 

 Smooth the brow of dumb despair ! 



Frank. — But here is another elose, which must 

 be omitted, it is so veiy applicable to the subject of 

 conversation. 



Contemplate, when the sun dc:linc3, 



Thy deatil. with deep reflection ; 

 And when ag.-.in, he rising shines, 

 Thy day of resurrection! 

 Frank — \t\d thnt, ngain, reminds me of i 

 beautiful lines of Jlrs. Barbauld, nnd which I so t 

 hear you repeat. 



Life, we've I.ecn long together. 

 In pleasant and in clouily wealher; 

 'Tis hard to part, when friends are dear — 

 Perhaps 'twill cause a sigh, a tear — 

 Then steal away— give little warning, 

 Choose you our own time — 

 S.iy not " good nipht," 

 But in some brighter clime. 



Wish me " good morning 7" 



X.ND OF THK DIALOGUKS. 



The Nobility of Labor. 



EV O. DEVVr.T. 



So material do I deem this policy — the true noV 

 of labor I mean — that 1 would dwell on it n moi 

 longer, nnd in a larger view. Why ihen, in the { 

 scale of things, is labor ordained for us 1 Ea 

 had it so pleased the Great Ordainer, might it 1 

 been dispensed with. The world itself might I 

 been a mighty machine for producing all that 

 wants. 



The motion of the globe upon its axis might i 

 been going forward; wilhotu mnu'said, houses n; 

 have risen like an exhalation, 



With the prouil sword 

 Of dulcet spmphonics and voices sound 

 Built like a tcliiple;" 

 gorgeous furniture might have been placed in tl 

 and soft couches nnd hixuiinnt bnnquets, spreni 

 hands unseen; and mnn, clad with fabrics ol nnti 

 weaving, rntber imperini purple might hnve been 

 to disport himself in those Elysinn pnlaccs: " Fi 

 tuiintc hnd been the scene oidnined for us in hu 

 life I" But where then, tell me, hnd been hu 

 energy, iiersevernnce, patience, heroism ? 



Cut off Inbor with one blow from the world, 

 mnnkind hnd sunk ton crowd of Asintic voUipta 

 No, it hnd not beuMi fortunate. Belter that the ( 

 be given to man as n dark mnss, whereupon to It 

 Belter that the rude and unsightly ntnterinla be p: 

 ded in the ore bed and in the forest, for him to las 

 to splendor and beauty. Better, 1 say; not becnu 

 thnt splenilor nnd beauty, but because the act crei 

 hem is beiier than the things themselves; becni» 



