THE JOY OE A GARDEN. 
85 
The vigilant gardener is always on the look-out for 
novelties and improvements. He observes an early pea 
come into blossom before any one in the row shows any 
signs of bloom. He does not look at it in idle wonder¬ 
ment, but at once secures it as a prize. He tears down 
the whole row, clears a space about it, gives it extra 
light, air, and nourishment, and ripens its pods a fort¬ 
night before any of the rest, and thus secures seed of ail 
earlier sort, and lays the foundation of a fortune. 
But, apart from the daily work, apart from the season- 
changes and the calls for various operations consequent 
on the growth and decay of things, what a joy is a 
garden as a place of retreat from worldly cares, from 
anxieties and worry of all kinds ! There is our school of 
Nature, where we watch the first greening of the leaf, 
the growth of the full summers verdure, and the slow 
but sure passage of autumn's “ fiery hand " among the 
branches. There are the glittering constellations, and 
the soothing odours, that beguile one into the belief that 
God lets some fragments of heaven fall upon man's lot, 
that when he feels “of the earth, earthy," and the 
pressure of sordid musings, or the fever of worldly ambi¬ 
tions eats up the heart, and threatens to crush every tender 
emotion out of it, he may, in the freshness of the inno¬ 
cent world of flowers, feel that life has its lovely compen¬ 
sations, and its rewards here ; and that the words of the 
Saviour appropriately answer his complaints—“ If God 
so clothe the grass of the field, how much more shall He 
clothe you, 0 ye of little faith !" 
Think of the morning walk, all coolness and fragrance; 
think of the mid-day lounge under embracing branches. 
