308 
|AUGU8T, 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYAN T .—Taken at his Country Home, at Cummington, Mass. 
an admirer of Mr. Bryant’s poetry, and I invited her 
to go to the exhibition with me. Of course we both 
expected a treat, as such a poet, on such an occasion, 
could not fail to give us something poetical about 
flowers. We went, and found the room crowded. When 
the orator appeared—who should it be but the gray- 
bearded, gray-haired old gentleman with whom I had 
walked so many races all the spring months! This was 
a surprise, but when it came to the address, it was more 
than a surprise ; it was a disappointment. We went ex¬ 
pecting poetry, and got only pruning ! A more matter of 
fact, and I will say instructive, lecture on pruning—pear- 
trees—I think it was, could not be given by one who 
never in his life read—much less wrote—a line of poetry. 
Some years later I became acquainted with Mr. Bryant, 
and found that he knew all about potatoes and pumpkins, 
even if lie did write charming poetry about flowers. 
A number of portraits of Mr. Bryant have been pub¬ 
lished, most of them taken in profile, and very hard and 
rugged. The one here given was drawn by an artist a 
few years ago, when Mr. Bryant was at his country home 
in Massachusetts. Mr. B. did not know that he was sit¬ 
ting for his portrait, and to my notion it gives him as he 
appeared in his home life better than any other. Why 
do I give you Mr. Bryant’s portrait?—For several reasons • 
—first, because he is a writer of poems with which you 
are all familiar. Secondly, because lie was one of the 
few men in active political life who never sought for or 
would accept office. Thirdly, as one who, though a 
strong writer in political controversy, was always a gen¬ 
tleman, and never used other than gentlemanly language. 
But these are qualities that will not interest youngsters. 
My main reason is that though he died at eighty-four, he 
was always a boy—a boy in activity, and a boy in the 
freshness of his spirits. He was born among the rocks, 
the hills, and woods, of Massachusetts, and though the 
greater part of his life was passed in a great city, and 
much of his thought was given to public affairs, his 
true enjoyment was found among the rural scenes of his 
boyhood, and he will be remembered by his “Forest 
Hymn,” his poem on “The Fringed Gentian,” his lines 
to “A Water Fowl,” his “June,” his “Death of the 
Flowers,” by boys and girls in generations to come, who 
will perhaps never know that he led an active city life 
and engaged in the political struggles of his day. I have 
no doubt that he would prefer to be thus remembered. 
He was a remarkable example of growing old gracefully. 
He would not have been what he was, he would not have 
been honored and esteemed as ho everywhere was, had 
he not preserved his simple habits of country life, had 
he not cherished the memory of his early country home. 
The lessons of the woods and fields, the memory of the 
trees and flowers staid with him and kept his mind fresh 
and his heart pure all through a long and useful life. 
Every country boy who seeks a city career, may well 
study the example of William Cullen Bryant in his at¬ 
tachment to his early home. The Doctor. 
