We will now indulge ourselves with a few extracts from “Harvey^s Reflections on a Flower-Garden.” 
In a grove of tulips, or a knot of pinks, one perceives a difference in almost every individual. 
Scarce any two, are turned, and tinctured, exactly alike. Each allows himself a little particularity in his 
dress, though all belong to one family : so that they are various, and yet the same. — A pretty emblem this, 
of the smaller differences between Protestant Christians. There are modes in religion, which admit of 
variation, without prejudice to sound faith, or real holiness. Just as the drapery, on these pictures of the 
spring, may be formed after a variety of patterns, without blemishing their beauty, or altering their nature. 
Be it so then, that in some points of inconsiderable consequence, several of our brethren dissent ; yet let us 
all live amicably and sociably together ; for we harmonize in principals, though we vary in punctilios. 
Let us join in conversation, and intermingle interests ; discover no estrangement of behaviour, and cherish 
no alienation of affection. If any strife subsists, let it be to follow our Divine Master most closely, in 
humility of heart, and unblameableness of life : let it be to serve one another most readily, in all the kind 
offices of a cordial friendship. Thus shall we be united, though distinguished ; united in the same grand 
fundamentals, though distinguished by some small circumstantials ; united in one important bond of 
brotherly love, though distinguished by some slighter peculiarities of sentiment. 
Between Christians, whose judgments disagree only about a form of prayer, or manner of worship, I 
apprehend, there is no more essential difference, than between flowers which bloom from the same kind of 
seed, but happen to be somewhat diversified in the mixture of their colours. 
And, shortly afterwards: 
Another circumstance, recommending and endearing the flowery creation, is their regular succession. 
They make not their appearance all at once, but in an orderly rotation. While a proper number of these 
obliging retainers are in waiting, the others abscond ; but hold themselves in a posture of service, ready to 
take their turn, and fill each his respective station, the instant it becomes vacant. — The Snowdrop, foremost 
of the lovely train, breaks her way through the frozen soil, in order to present her early compliments to her 
Lord. Dressed in the robe of innocency, she steps forth, fearless of danger ; long before the trees have 
ventured to unfold their leaves, even while the icicles are pendant on our houses. — Next, peeps out the 
Crocus ; but cautiously, and with an air of timidity. She hears the howling blasts, and skulks close to her 
low situation. Afraid she seems to make large excursions from her root ; while so many ruffian winds are 
abroad, and scouring along the iEther. — Nor is the Violet last, in this shining embassy of the year. 
Which, with all the embellishments, that would grace a Royal Garden, condescends to line our hedges, and 
grow at the feet of briars. Freely, and without any solicitation, she distributes the bounty of her emissive 
sweets ; while herself, with an exemplary humility, retires from sight ; seeking rather to administer pleasure, 
than to win admiration. Emblem, expressive emblem, of those modest virtues, which delight to bloom 
in obscurity : which extend a cheering influence to multitudes, who are scarce acquainted with the source 
of their comforts ! Motive, engaging motive, to that ever active beneficence, which stays not for the impor- 
tunity of the distressed, but anticipates their suit, and prevents them with the blessings of its goodness. 
The following verses are imitated from Theocritus, by Harvey: — 
When snows descend, and robe the fields 
In winter’s bright array ; 
Touch’d by the sun, the lustre fades, 
And weeps itself away. 
When Spring appears ; when violets blow, 
And shed a rich perfume ; 
How soon the fragrance breathes its last ! 
How short-liv’d is the bloom ! 
Fresh in the morn, the Summer rose 
Hangs withering ere ’tis noon ; 
We scarce enjoy the balmy gift, 
But mourn the pleasure gone. 
With gilding fire, an evening star 
Streaks the autumnal skies ; 
Shook from the sphere, it darts away, 
And in an instant, dies. 
Such are the charms, that flush the cheek, 
And sparkle in the eye : 
So, from the lovely finish’d form 
The transient graces fly. 
To this the seasons, as they roll, 
Their attestation bring : 
They warn the fair ; their ev’ry round 
Confirms the truth I sing. 
