20 BRECK’S NEW BOOK OF FLOWERS. 
of a bud, or the coloring of a tulip, or the opening of a 
rose, or the perfection of a full-blown peony, was glory 
enough for one morning. With tender emotions do I re- 
member the old white rose-bush, trained up to the top of 
the house by the hand of a dear mother, the abundant and 
fragrant flowers of which gave delight to all the household, 
as well as to the neighbors, who received them as ex- 
pressions of neighborly friendship and good-will. How 
many pleagant reminiscenses, crowd upon the memory of one 
who at the age of three-score and ten, as he looks back 
on the scenes of his childhood and youth, when from his 
sainted mother he received lessons of morality and piety, 
while engaged in the culture of a limited flower garden, 
Did she forget to love flowers? Were they no source of 
pleasure to her when old age crept upon her? No, no! 
At the age of ninety, her table never lacked a bouquet, a 
pot of fuchsia, or a rose or some other flower, which re- 
ceived her tender care. How many otherwise tedious 
hours were spent in the contemplation of her little flower 
garden; and with what cheerfulness did she pass away, 
from the flowers of earth, to the paradise of heaven, leaving 
a delightful example, of a happy, cheerful, contented old age, 
as a rich legacy to her numerous descendants and friends. 
But the gratification derived from the garden, is not 
confined to the young or the old. Who that has been 
confined to the business of the day, toiling and laboring 
in the “sweat of his face,” does not feel invigorated and 
refreshed, as he takes his walk in the cool of the evening, 
with the happy family group about him, and notes the 
progress of his fruits and flowers? Or, who that breathes 
the delicious fragrance of the morning flowers glittering 
with dew, but can look up with greater confidence and 
love to Him, who has strewed with such liberal profusion 
in every direction, the evidence of his goodness and love 
to the children of men! 
