346 
SOUTHERN CULTIVATOR. 
MAKE THE HOMESTEAD BEAUTIFUL . 
[The following remarks are the close of an Agricultural 
Address delivered by the Associate Editor of this journal. 
As they form a not inappropriate sequent to the article in 
our October number, “Shall we Improve — or Remove,” 
they may be of interest to our readers. The object of the 
previous remarks of this Address was to enforce the im- 
portance of measures to render our population perma- 
nent :] 
It will aid in the attainment of this end (the giving per- 
manence to our population) if in addition to making our 
lands more valuable, we render the Homestead more at- 
tractive. Not even the savage is insensible to beauty. A 
perception of it is as natural to man as any other of his 
perceptions. It maybe dulled or perverted, but, like the 
moral sense, it can hardly be destroyed. The beauty of an 
innocent child is sometimes the sternest rebuke to the crimi- 
nal bent upon crime. The supassing loveliness of woman 
often subdues the most rugged nature of men. When’the 
glorious sun, preceded by his gorgeous heralds ofillumin- 
ed mist and cloud, rises from his morning’s couch, or 
sinks, “like a wearied giant,” to rest at eventide, drawing 
around him the sable curtains of night — when night her- 
self, stilly, placid, serene, extends her starlight canopy 
over the sleeping world— when gentle spring has smiled 
away stern winter and covered the earth with hrr green 
carpeting, varied and bedecked with her flower hues, in- 
imitable by artist’s skill, he is less than man whose soul, 
amid such scenes, is not penetrated with the sense of 
beauty. Simply natural beauty often presents itself with 
irresistible power to the natural sense of man. It is the 
response of one portion of nature to the perfection of 
another portion ot the handiwork of the Great Architect. 
But if we connect the moral or spiritual with natural 
beauty, things lovely in themselves become, by the union, 
still more lovely and are invested with the charm which 
a holy sentiment creates. 
A peaceful, tasteful country Home is an object of inter- 
est, even to the incurious traveller. The perfume of flow- 
ers, the over arching tree, the well-trimmed hedge, the 
velvet and verdant lawn, the vine embowered cottage, 
arrest, for a moment, his journey, compel his attention, 
induce him to forget the dusty road, his aching limbs and 
wearied steed. The wrinkled brow is smoothed, the care- 
worn countenance is lit up with genial good-humor, tor 
the scene before him, by inevitable association, has 
brought to him cheering thoughts of home and the loved 
ones there. Such scenes are the gleams of sunshine, by 
which a kind Providence allows the sombre hue of human 
life to be enlivened. 
The same scene may become a thousand fold more at- 
tractive by associations connected with it. If those that 
we love have been the agents in creating the beauty 
which pleases, the affections of the heart are united with 
the perceptions of the sense and give rise to an attachment 
which it is difiicult to extinguish. 
Where good sense directs and prudence controls ex- 
penditure, it is virtuous lo embellish our Homes. The 
opinion is thus qualified, as those who advocate ornament, 
are sometimes inclined to overlook utility. We should 
not forget the advice of Lord Bacon, who says: “Leave 
the goodly fabric of houses, for beauty alone^ to the en- 
chanted palaces of the poets, who build them with small 
cost.” 
It is practicable to unite beauty with utility in the ar- 
rangement of our habitations In truth there is “a fitness 
in things” which requires the union of both to give per- 
fection to either. When this union occurs, it is no ex- 
hibition of idle taste, but an adornment of nature often fol 
lowed by valuable moral results. We abandon, without 
regret, the ill-shaped, crazy and comfortless cabin, around 
which the bare earth burns under the fiery sun, or rank 
weeds pollute the air with poisonous odors. But it is a 
very difiicult thing to contemplate the abandonment of a 
comfortable home which our own hands or the hands of 
these we love have labored appropriately to adorn. It is 
a meditated violence to nature. It is a laceration of the 
affections. It is an interruption of our pleasant memories. 
It breaks the continuity of the life. It is, in a sense, a 
desertion of those who have gone before us and who now 
appear to us sensibly in these mute witnesses to their 
tasteful industry. It contemplates the sacriligious hand 
of the stranger, tearing, mangling and defacing those 
beauties to which we have paid an almost religious re- 
gard. 
With what delicate but truthful sense of these strong 
feelings of our nature does Milton place upon the lips of 
our common mother, the words of her lament on leaving 
Paradise— 
“ 0 Flowers ! 
That never will in other climates grow — 
My early visitation and my last 
At even, which I bred up with tender care, 
From the first opening bud and gave ye names ! 
Who now shall rear you to the sun, or rank 
Your tribes and water from the Ambrossil Fount 1” 
How many gentle descendants of Eve have been ia- 
clined to utter the same lament when, not the “flaming 
sword,” but the love of gain in those to whom their will is 
subordinate, compels them to leave the Paradise they have 
created and abandon it to the ruthless stranger I It often 
occurs, even among men, that the finer feelings connected 
with home associations overpower the sordid desires. 
Healthful sentiment conquers unrighteous mammon. The 
tendrils of affectionate remembrance not unfrequently hold 
with greater tenacity than the strong grasp of principle. 
Thus our delicate emotions become more potent for good 
than even the dictates of a cold, calm judgment. 
It is fortunate that wealth is not necessary in the cre- 
ation of this attachment to home. The cottage may be as 
attractive to its humble inmate as the costliest villa to its 
lordly possessor. The humblest dwelling may be the 
centre of as strong attachment as the proudest mansion, 
and there may be equal reluctance to leaving our “father’s 
house,” whether it be cottage or mansion. 
While, then, we enrich our lands, let us not forget this 
minor indeed, but still valuable aid in securing perma- 
nence to our population. 
Then, make the Homestead beautiful ! Make it beauti- 
ful within. Let good books dispense to its inmates, from 
their affluent stores, the priceless treasures of wisdom and 
knowledge. Let sweet music lift up its voice and make 
glad the hearts of those who hear. Let contentment dis- 
place anxious care. Let subjected wishes, thoughtful con- 
cessions, accordant tempers and mutual forbearance, ban- 
ish discord and so unite the family that, though many, 
they shall be one. Let love unfeigned to God and man, 
so light up the dwelling that hateful vice, impatient of the 
light, shall flee, abashed, to its congenial darkness. So 
shall the Homestead be beautiful within. 
Make it beautiful without. Young man, lend to this 
holy purpose the strength of your stalwart arm. Nothing 
can be more manly. They are eoarse and unmanly na- 
tures which undervalue gentle sentiment. .Let it be yours 
to perform those acts which, by weaker hand, are incap- 
able of accomplishment. Plant the stately forest tree 
around the dwelling. If God spares your life, you will 
sit under its shade in old age, when both yourself and 
this nursling of your hands have been battered by the 
storms of many winters. 
Matron and maidens of the household, plant vines and, 
