000 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
Joke 22. 
Bible principle; and even with these, we cannot always keep 
them in strait paths. “ Precept upon precept, precept upon 
precept; line upon line, line upon line;" is declared hy 
God's own Word to he needful even to all generations; how 
much more to those whose tender minds may receive im¬ 
pressions before they are seared by continuance in sin. 
The history of Fanny Bell is, perhaps, more solemn in its 
lesson than that of .lane Markham. 
Fanny was the eldest child of honest and respectable 
parents. Her mother had been brought up steadily and 
well, and had never gone wrong; an excellent thing to say in 
these our days. Fanny’s grandmother took her from her 
birth, and brought her up as striclly and carefully as she 
had done by her own daughter; and when she was about 
sixteen she was taken into a neighbouring family, and placed 
under an old servant of experience, on whom the greatest 
reliance had always been placed. For a time Fanny went 
on well, considering the natural giddiness of youth, which is 
more evident in some than others. Her parents and 
grandmother were very anxious about her, and desirous that 
she should keep her place; and many little vexatious things 
| were overlooked for their sakes. Much allowance must be 
1 made for heedless and headstrong youth, when no symptom 
of actual crime is perpetrated; but at last Fanny's mistress 
| began in a round-about way to suspect her of not being 
honest. Little things were missed; odd circumstances 
occurred which could not be comfortably accounted for ; but 
Fanny’s look and manner w r ere so unconcerned, that for 
some time nothing could be more than suspected; there was 
no ground for a charge, only enough to cause watchfulness 
and doubt. 
It is wonderful,—that is to say it would be wonderful if 
there was no God,—to mark the way in which guilt is 
discovered; in which it makes a way for its own discovery, 
however carefully it may be disguised and hidden. 
Those who do wrong are sure, sooner or later, to be found 
out; and it is only another proof of the depravity of the 
heart, that people doing wrong can bear the alarm, and 
expectation of detection, which must be ever disturbing 
their peace. They prefer even this to putting away the 
darling sin, which, in the end, brings them to disgrace and 
shame. 
There was a certain bag of biscuits kept in a deep drawer 
in the sitting room, which seemed to go faster than was right. 
Questions were asked among the members of the family, hut 
no satisfaction conld be given. This, at first, passed unheeded, 
because the drawer was always unlocked, and one and another 
I would take a biscuit, as they chanced to feel inclined ; but at 
i last every one began to wonder at the rapid way bag after 
bag disappeared, and it struck them that they would count 
j the biscuits, and abstain themselves from taking any for a 
I day or two. The next day two or three were missing, and 
the day after more still were gone. It was therefore evident 
that they were unfairly taken; and on speaking to the old 
I servant on the subject, she said she remembered, on more 
j than one occasion, finding crumbs of biscuit on ilie kitchen 
floor; that on speaking of it to Fanny, her remark was, “ Oh 
! yes; the ladies were in the kitchen just now, eating biscuits ;’’ 
and that she thought no more about it. Of course this 
continued the awakened suspicion; the charge was made, 
flatly denied, and Fanny was sent home to her parents. 
Children in the village subsequently said that Fanny had 
frequently offered them biscuits, when sent on an errand, 
and that her pocket seemed at all times well supplied with 
them. This was, of course, grief and shame to her parents 
j aud grandmother, but it could not be denied; and they dared 
| not apply for a character of her, because such an offence 
could not be passed over in silence; so after trying her in 
one or two little neighbouring situations, from each of which 
she was quickly sent home, they removed her altogether to 
London, to some relatives who promised to look after her. 
Here she obtained a situation, and as nothing was heard of 
her for a year or two, it was supposed she was doing pretty 
well; but at length her parents received a letter from an 
authority at one of the London Penitentiaries, requesting 
them to come and see their daughter, who was dying in 
great distress of mind and body, and wished to see her 
father and mother once more. Poor things! their horror 
and grief was overwhelming; but they could not go. They 
had no money to spend in journies, for they were labourers, 
and very poor; and they dared not borrow, because they could 
never pay again. So Fanny died among strangers, after 
crime and sorrow that brought her very soon, and in the 
earliest youth, to a wretched end! 
Who can tell the consequences of a first crime ? Who can 
count the cost of a single sin ? “ The heart is deceitful and 
desperately wicked, who can know it?” Fanny’s parents had 
never shown her the example of lightness of conduct, or of 
dishonesty, yet she was guilty of both. It is the want of 
religious education that causes these evils. Young people 
may be scolded and beaten, and kept out of harm’s way ; but 
there is that within, which the grace of God only can cast 
out; and unless His word is engrafted in the heart, and His 
fear implanted there, nothing that man can do, or not do, will 
prevent the wicked spirit from working death. We do some¬ 
times see strange inconsistencies ; some young people grow \ 
up steady and quiet characters; but if they have no Scriptural 
foundation, their quietness is that of a sleeping lion—they 
may be less open to temptation, but not a whit less vile 
within, when real temptation comes. 
Let me earnestly press upon young women these last 
examples of what has been, and what may be. May they be 
enabled to take them closely home to their own hearts, and 
profit by them ; and if they are still innocent of these great 
offences, may they say, as good John Bradford said, when a 
criminal passed him on the way to execution, “But for the 
grace of God, there goes John Bradford.” May they seek 
that grace ; it shall be granted to all who ask for it through 
the name of Jesus Christ; and may they trust in Him only 
for protection, remembering, that “whoso trusteth his own 
heart is a fool.” 
PEARS ON QUINCE STOCKS.—MANETTI 
ROSE STOCKS. 
Some time since I observed, in your pages, an article from 
Mr. Errington, describing his failure in the cultivation of j 
some few varieties of Bears on Quince Stocks which I had ! 
sent him. I will confess that I was surprised, for I thought 
him so energetic as never to be beaten by any tree or plant 
that would grow in the open air; and 1 think I remember | 
reading a description of a very fine Beurre d’Aremberg Bear j 
on a Quince Stock growing in the garden under his care. I , 
could not account for his failure, and so I referred to my 
books to see what varieties I had sent him. Among them 
I find the following: 1. Urbaniste, 2. Josephine de Malincs, 
•’!, Orpheline d' Enghi.cn, 4, Beurre Langelier, S, Beurre Dicl, \ 
0, Louise Bonne of Jersey, 7, Susette de Bttvay. No. •') is the 
same as the Beurre cFAremberg in its fruit; but the latter I ! 
at one time thought different, from the Gees being always 
very full of thorns. No. 5 and C are most vigorous growers 
on the Quince, as far as I have seen, in all soils; aud the 
remaining are all good growers here in a stiff' clay, and also 
in a soil consisting of siliceous sand. Mr. Errington de¬ 
scribes his soil (I write from memory) as light and sandy, 
and I am quite sure he gave them good culture. Why, then, 
should they fail ? for when at Folkstone, last year, I saw a 
plantation of pyramidal Bears on Quince Stocks, including, 
among others, the above varieties, growing with the greatest j 
luxuriance in a soil so light that it might be almost called a 
blowing sand. And on crossing over to Boulogne, I saw, in 
the gardens of a market-gardener, a large plantation of three 
or four acres growing most vigourously, and bearing large 
quantities of fruit, and the soil of the same light sandy | 
nature as that at Folkstone. The trees were planted five j 
feet apart, from row' to row, and three feet apart in the 
rows. I think I never beheld such perfection in fruit- ! 
culture; so that Bears on Quince Stocks will grow well iu 
light sandy soils. 
Mr. Errington’s failure was not, therefore, owing to the \ 
surface soil they were planted in, so let us look deeper. The 
subsoil, both at Folkstone and Boulogne, was a tender loamy 
clay ; and so I apprehend that a light sandy soil resting on 
gravel or chalk would be fatal to Bears on Quince Stocks. 
But to shew how difficult it is to form conclusions, I have 
at this moment a wooden fence on the top of a steep, dry 
sand bank (the sand here is all calcareous), which is covered 
with Bears on Quince Stocks trained to it, and growing with 
a healthy vigour. 
