AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
Designed to improve all Classes interested in Soil Culture 
f AGRICULTURE IS THE MOST HEALTHFUL, THE MOST USEFUL, AND THE MOST NOBLE EMPLOYMENT OF MAN —Washington 
©IgANCJE IV9D, A. HI., 
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. 
VOL. XVIII—No, 6 ] 
l^p’Offffice at 189 Water-st., (Near Fulton-st.) 
J^jPCoBiteirsts. '0'crjJBS, Arc., on page 1 92. 
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1859, 
by OitANGE Judd, in the Clerk’s Office of the District 
Court of the United States for the Southern District of 
New-York. 
N. E.—Every Journal is invited freely to copy 
any and all desirable articles, and no use or advantage 
will be taken of the Copy-Right, wherever each article 
or illustration is duly accredited to the American Agri¬ 
culturist. ORANGE JUDD, Proprietor. 
June. 
“ Of all flowers, 
Methinks a rose is best; 
It is the very emblem of a maid ; 
For w hen the west wind courts her gently 
How modestly she blows, and paints the sun 
With her chaste blushes ! When the north wind comes 
near her 
Rude and impatient, then, like chastity, 
She locks her beauties in her bud again, 
And leaves him to base briars.’’— -Beaumont & Fletcher. 
June roses ! Who has not seen them, enjoyed 
their fragrance, and praised God for the most per¬ 
fect of flowers ! In this month the rose culmi¬ 
nates, and gives us its full-orbed splendor, the 
highest perfection of its kind. And now while 
the queen of flowers is out in all her beauty greet¬ 
ing every body with smiles, we wish to say a few 
words of cheer to those who have begun rose 
culture, and of exhortation to the unfortunates, 
who have not yet welcomed the rose to their 
flower borders. Flower borders ! Alas, there are 
those in this goodly land, fanned by winds from 
the sweet south, kissed by the sunshine, and wa¬ 
tered with abundant showers, who have not a 
solitary rose bud upon their premises. They are 
not pagans, they are not landless, they are not 
poor in worldly goods or home comforts. Many 
of them are the lords of broad acres, proud of 
their well filled barns, and sleek cattle, their tas- 
seled corn fields, and their blooming potato patch¬ 
es ; but they have never laid out a flower border 
or planted a seed or shrub whose sole office in the 
earth is to administer to our esthetic wants. 
I 3 oor unfortunate men, may Heaven help them. 
They are more to be pitied than the deaf and 
dumb. They do not half live in whom the love 
of the beautiful is blotted out, or what is the same 
thing, in whom it has never been cultivated. It 
is said of the savages of the Sandwich Islands, 
wnen they were first visited by the missionaries, 
that they manifested no pleasure in beholding the 
sublime and beautiful scenery of their native land. 
Nothing moved them to rapture, but.the gross 
pleasures of the palate, and the vicious indulgen¬ 
ces of their heathen rites. It is possible for peo¬ 
ple to grow up in a Christian land, almost as in¬ 
sensible to the grand and beautiful in Nature. 
They are so accustomed to the rough labor and 
drudgery of the farm, are so indoctrinated in the 
utilitarian creed, that they only appreciate what 
is good to eat and to drink, to wear and to sell. 
So hopelessly set are they in these notions, that 
they rather pride themselves upon this insensi¬ 
NEW-YORK, JUNE, 1859. 
bility, and glory in their shame. They admire a 
luxuriant meadow, but it rs not for its verdure, 
its blooming grasses, or its graceful motion when 
the wind sweeps over it as over the waves of the 
sea. They only think of three tons of hay to the 
acre, and fifteen dollars a ton, clean cash. They 
admire a thorough bred horse, but it is not for his 
glossy coat, his stately step, his fine form, or his 
speed upon the road. He is an instrument of 
gambling, or an article of merchandise, worth a 
thousand dollars. They would as soon be caught 
stealing sheep, as cultivating a flower border, or 
putting up a bouquet for their wives or daughters. 
Now we are not going to call names, and tell 
just where these people live. Suffice it to say, 
that we have have seen them, shaken hands with 
them, and feel very sorry for them, as we do for 
all who have malformations and need treatment. 
We hope that the rising generation of fanners 
will have fewer examples of this class, and it is 
with this hope that we call the attention of our 
readers, the younger portion of them especially, 
to this very important subject. 
While these beautiful Junk days are upon us, 
and the air is filled with fragrance, and the gar¬ 
dens are full of flowers and bird songs, it may be 
possible to convince some of the incorrigible ones 
that flowers are worth cultivating. They are not 
only charming for the gentler sex, but appropriate 
for man. He is wanting in true manhood who 
does not admire flowers—who looks with indif¬ 
ference or contempt upon a violet or a rose. It 
is not the chief end of man to grow corn and po¬ 
tatoes, or to raise cotton and bacon. Man was 
formed for repose as well as for action—for con¬ 
templation as well as for work—for communion 
with nature as well as with his fellows. Time 
spent in floriculture is not lost to the best pur¬ 
j $1.00 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE. 
1 SINGLE NUMBERS 10 GENTS. 
[NEW SERIES—No. My 
poses of life. These fair frail things are among 
the sweetest gifts of the Creator, given us for t lie; 
adornment of our homes, to be loved and enjoyed, 
to give fitting expression to sentiments and oceu 
sions for which human language is too poor. 
Fortunately, in this land, there is no lack of 
flower worshippers. Even the insensibles, who 
have never handled a rose, and affect to detest its 
fragrance, as if it were skunk cabbage, or hen¬ 
bane, are quite likely surrounded with neighbors 
who are skilled in floriculture. Let them look 
over the way, and they will see roses trained to 
the sides of the house, to the trellis work around 
the portico, to frames constructed for the purpose 
—roses white and yellow, blush and crimson, the 
climbers and the standards, filling every appro¬ 
priate place around the house and garden, where 
they can be seen and enjoyed. The honeysuck 
les and the wistarias, the pinks and violets, the 
mignonette, and the whole tribe of annuals arc 
there in their appropriate seasons. It is a beau 
tiful sight, and all who pass by, as well as the 
inmates, enjoy the spectacle. 
The home so adorned is far more prized, and 
loved, than the desolate dwelling that simply min¬ 
isters to man’s physical wants. Here trite mind 
and heart have something to feed upon. There is 
a ministry of the beautiful constantly going on 
amid the utilities of life, and children come up 
with quickened sensibilities, appreciating and en¬ 
joying, with keenest relish, the fine forms and 
colors in Nature. Floriculture is one of the bonds 
that bind them to their homes, and to the virtues of 
domestic life. There is always something to in¬ 
terest them at home, and the attractions of the 
tippling house, and bowling alley, are forestalled. 
Human nature craves with strongest instinct 
amusement, and relaxation from the stern cares 
and utilities of life. This want must be met in a 
rational way, or it will find expression in vicious 
indulgence. Man will not be goaded by necessity— 
by work—all the while. He will refresh himself 
with play of some kind, something to relax the 
muscles, and afford pleasure. Do not bring up the 
old and hackneyed objection, that flowers are of 
no use. It is for that very reason that we would 
have you cultivate them. Pray indulge your¬ 
selves in one thing that has no appreciable value 
in dollars and cents, that has leave to giow and 
bloom for the sake of its own beauty, that lives 
simply because you love it, and will have it. 
Whatever your circumstances, you can have at 
least one flower, and that the fairest and best 
“ Dear flower of Heaven and love ! thou glorious thing 
That lookest out the garden nooks among ; 
Rose, that art ever fair and ever young, 
Was it some angel on invisible wing 
Hovered around thy fragrant sleep, to fl r.g 
Hi.s glowing mantle of warm sunset hues 
O’er thy unfolding petals, wet with dews, 
Such as the flower-fays to Titania bring! 
O flower of thousand memories and dreams. 
That take the heart with faintness, while we gaze 
On the rich depths of thy inwoven maze ; 
From the green banks of Eden’s blessed streams 
I dreamed thee brought, of brighter days to tell 
Long passed, but promised yet with us to dwelt.” 
