324 
THE FLORIST. 
of culture, their blooming season may be continued from July to 
November. This habit is improved by a little training, and instead 
of an ill-furnished stalk eight or nine feet high, with only a few poor 
blossoms on it at the top, we get a fine symmetrical spike of beau¬ 
tiful double flowers, with small elegant foliage peeping out from 
among the thickly set blossoms, forming a perfect bouquet, un¬ 
equalled by any other single plant. 
Saffron Walden , Oct. 21. Wm. Chater. 
LABOUR A CONDITION OF HAPPINESS. 
There are seasons in the experience of every amateur gardener 
when he is disposed to shrink from the bodily exertions required by 
his pursuits; in the heat of summer he dislikes to leave the cool 
shade to perform the manipulations which expose him to the fiery 
beams of the sun ; and the attractions of the fireside in winter render 
open-air duties, amidst snow and rain, any thing but attractive. In 
moments of listlessness and languor, the interests of Flora run great 
risks of being postponed to the indulgence of ease, until the bloom¬ 
ing of some favourite flower, the peeping-up of bulbs from beneath 
the snowy ground, or some other beautiful natural development, 
excites afresh our latent associations and sympathies. Perhaps there 
is no reader of this work who will not plead guilty to this occasional 
treachery to his favourite occupations. 
While the love of flowers will generally prove a sufficient motive 
to exertion, it will be desirable that the gardener should habitually 
recognise the great law of our being, which makes physical labour 
necessary for our happiness. The sentence pronounced upon our 
race by our kind though offended Creator, “ In the sweat of thy 
brow thou shalt eat bread,” must, doubtless, have some punitive 
aspects; but the actual working of the curse by the transmuting 
power of divine benevolence has been turned into a blessing. Labour 
may be badly compensated, and too severe to allow of the glow of 
health, and the buoyant and happy thoughts which health encou¬ 
rages ; but, under certain restrictions, it is eminently calculated to 
do us good. The mechanism of our bodily structure demands exer¬ 
cise for its progressive march to perfectness, and when its full stature 
is obtained, labour must be employed to knit the parts into firmness 
and prevent them from rusting. The muscles of a blacksmith’s arm 
standing out in high relief, compared with the smooth uniform sur¬ 
face of the same limb in the case of a man of sedentary pursuits, tell 
a tale, the moral of which is unquestionable. Beauty of form, and 
firmness of texture are more dependent on labour than the luxurious 
habits of our high civilisation dispose us to admit. 
The finer organisation of the mind is intimately dependent on the 
grosser construction of the body, and cannot free itself from its influ¬ 
ence ; this is painfully evident in the immense variety of mental dis- 
