THE FLORIST. 
‘295 
PLEASURES OF GARDENING. 
When the Lord God planted a garden, and put in it the man 
whom He had formed, out of the ground He made to grow every 
tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food. Therefore man 
may walk in his garden, and drink-in pleasure with his eyes, or 
gather his food to eat with gladness and singleness of heart, and 
offer his gratitude to the gracious Giver of all, though Jesus Christ. 
There is not a tree but it has its own peculiar beauty: even the 
very Poplar, with all its stiffness and comparatively unlovely hue, 
and the selfishness which forbids its mingling its branches with 
those of another tree, pleases by its unity of design. In loveliness, 
however, how much do some excel; whilst others, through the mis¬ 
chief they may do, perchance excite distaste. And imagination de¬ 
lights in comparing the greatest beauties of the garden, and their 
contrasts, with the objects of the affection and aversion of the heart, 
“ As the lily among thorns, so is my love amongst the daughters. 
As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved 
among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, 
and his fruit was sweet to my taste.” 
But we must chiefly look for beauty among the subjects of the 
florist's care : for beauty is his object: he would add intensity and 
variety to the attractions of the works of God. The garden is given 
to man to dress it and to keep it, and to follow out the two great 
designs of its founder, the pleasure and the profit of the race. And 
all the different portions of the vegetable world appear to have been 
purposely left susceptible of increase in number and in size, and of 
improvement in form and colour, that every gardener might be to 
other men what God has been to him, a minister of pleasure and of 
good. The florist acts on the susceptibilities and capabilities created 
in the plant ; he bestows upon it nourishment, gathered from similar 
or from different portions of the works of God, on which it is found 
best to thrive; he places his plant in the most congenial light and 
air; and performs the tender office, with forethought and patience, 
of sheltering it from every harm. It would seem difficult to be care¬ 
ful of a plant and negligent of a child, gentle towards a flower 
and rough to one’s own kind. We would, therefore, expect the 
cultivation of flowers to favour the amenities of domestic life ; and 
the spread of the florist’s taste amongst the lower orders to check, 
if not to remedy, the semi-barbarism that may too oft be found. 
The very inferiority of the subjects of his care in the scale of 
creation favours his design. He may, without cruelty, refuse the 
weak and choose the strong; and ranging in search of seed amongst 
the whole genus cultivated by his care, his plant makes a progress 
towards perfection in size, and hue, and form, more rapid than he had 
thought. He knows not the colour that his new plant will bear, 
but it has been determined by certain hidden influences amongst the 
materials created or matured unto his hand. 
Among the works of nature there is beauty in the entireness of 
