54 



THE FLORIST AND POMOLOGIST. 



excol in the growth of vegetables as they do in that of fruits and flowers, and that the former 

 receive an equal share of attention with the latter, and that gardeners may he given to 

 understand that Fuchsies, Ericas, and Geraniums are not the only things on which skill and 

 time may he profitably expended, or that the production of fine flowers alone may claim the 

 reward of real merit. 



It maybe supposed that there is more hard work attached to the management of culinary 

 crops than to that of conservatory plants, and that the kitchen garden is a grade below the 

 flower garden, for even in the garden there is a feeling somewhat akin to what is known as 

 snohism, expressed and exemplified in certain jeering allusions to cabbage-yielding, and the 

 dignity of being exempt therefrom — a feeling which the really intelligent never did and never 

 will entertain. But still other chaff is thrown over the hedge, and we may be told that the 

 kitchen garden is not pleasant to the eye or fair to look upon, that its beauties are not 

 supreme, and that its odours are not those of frankincense and myrrh, nor the smell thereof 

 as the smell of a blessed field. Oh, my friends, say no more on that point, for have I not 

 been in the garden of herbs, where dwell Industry and Care that is not dull, and admired 

 the order and precision prevailing there— the Leeks and the Lettuces neatly arranged in 

 lines that never meet, the varied shades and tints, and the many blossoms, making up one 

 harmonious, aye, and beauteous whole ? and have I not smelt the fragrance of the Thyme and 

 the Savory and all that give their odours to the wind and the nostrils, and thought them all 

 very good P and have I not seen the garden of the cottager looking bright and sunny as a 

 field in May, and felt irresistibly drawn towards it and a strong desire to ask a blessing on it ? 

 And now I bethink me of a portly old gentleman who used to take his daily walk around his 

 kitchen gai-den (and, in truth, he had no other garden to walk in, having reversed the usual 

 arrangement and elevated the whole of his ground, with the exception of a very small 

 portion indeed, to the culture of fruit and vegetables), bestowing affectionate glances on the 

 new Potatoes and young Carrots, and thinking how well they would look on the table steaming 

 fragrantly beside the goodly joint, who would behold lovingly the Cauliflowers and Peas in 

 prospect of a nearer acquaintance, who would gaze with the utmost complacency on the 

 promising crops of Peaches, Plums, and Apples — who encouraged the arts relative to the 

 manufacture of garden requisites, and bought nets, covers, guards, &c, that the feathered 

 tribe should not pilfer his fruit, but be content with the grubs or go to his neighbours ; and 

 who maintained that the art of cultivating things good for food was the noblest art in the 

 world, and he for one should give it his entire support. Think not that this individual was 

 purely ethereal, or that I have conjured him up from the realms of fancy, for was he not of 

 the household of faith, placing unlimited confidence in things visible and temporal, partaking 

 joyfully of the good things set before him, enlarging upon their excellencies until it became 

 needful to make an extract of crescent form from the polished wood that held the savoury 

 viands that the friendly intercourse between himself and them might proceed uninterruptedly ? 

 And was he not a knight of the square table ? for in truth a round one would have left little 

 room for the dishes after the needful extract had been made. 



Seriously, ai*e not the beauties and utilities of the world inseparable ? We find them so 

 in nature. Take the living form — the human form, if you will — bestow one glance on the 

 outline, and what form can be more beautiful P Then notice how the members are placed — 

 just where they should be ; how the bones, the muscles, and the sinews are adapted to each 

 other, producing a combination of beauty and utility that cannot be surpassed. It is the 

 same in all that is usually denominated as the work of nature. The tree, the plant, the 

 flower, the world, and the universe in which the world we inhabit is but an atom — the 

 useful and the beautiful are combined, and not only so, but the more we multiply the 

 beauties, the utilities are increased in the same ratio. We can see the beauty of the flower 

 and its use is not hidden. Examine the flower closely, investigate its parts, each one is 

 beautiful in itself and each has its particular use — the petals, the stamens, and pistils, and 

 even the parts of those parts, the beauties are immediately apparent while the rises are as 

 readily discovered. 



What is the object of scientific investigation and research if not to penetrate into the 

 mysterious workings of nature and adapt the knowledge thus gained to purposes of everyday 

 life ? And is it not the province of art to give a practical form to the knowledge thus gained ? 

 Both are wanted in the garden, both may find increased employment and enter new fields of 

 discovery and adaptation. Meanwhile, I would strongly urge a further blending of the 

 useful and the beautiful in the garden. The highest standard of beauty is not approached 

 by the gaudiest of colouring or the most elaborate pattern. Simplicity is Nature's own 

 standard, and from Nature we get beauty and utility combined, and every work cf Nature is 

 a thing of beauty and always has its place and purpose. It may be worth while to bear this 

 in mind, for all the best works in art are copied from nature. And why should it not be so 

 in the garden P Surely Nature never taught us to make such a wide distinction between the 

 flower garden and kitchen garden, or to consider one as a place sacred only to beauty and 

 pleasure, and the other only to utility and labour. Let us break down the barriers that 



