} 
302 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
July 20. 
dency in certain cases, in order that the plants may 
continue that growth which enlarges the part we esteem 
as the most useful before this seeding process comes on. 
Now this is the critical point; for to have the plants of 
a tolerable good size by the beginning of March, which 
in a mild season is the one they usually exhibit a ten¬ 
dency to run into flower, is what is wanted without the 
flowering ; and it is not too much to say that all of the 
Cabbage tribe would endeavour to seed at that time, if 
sufficiently advanced in size to do so, but so soon as the 
critical time is past the difficulty is over, consequently, 
the attention of cultivators has .been directed to the 
j attempt to introduce plants that would resist the flower- 
l ing temptation when of a larger size and greater age 
: than their predecessors, and so increased their useful¬ 
ness ; for it is easy enough to have a bed of Cabbages, 
with hearts nicely turning in by Christmas, hut the 
chances are, how many of them are likely to be Cabbages 
in April ? 
As the skill and attention of growers have been directed 
to the development of this part of the plant’s economy, 
varieties have sprung into existence which may be sown 
much sooner than used to bo the time, and yet not run 
to flower in spring; some varieties having this pro¬ 
perty to a greater extent than others, but all early Cab¬ 
bages are expected to possess it to a greater or less 
extent. It is not necessary here to refor to the indus¬ 
trious process carried on through many years that 
has accomplished this; suffice it to say, that there is 
reason to believe that iti the first improvements 
attempted on the wild plant, the sowing and flowering 
would be effected the same season ; and it would not bo 
until after a long period of patient culture that the 
plants raised from seed sown in August would stand 
over the trying spring season; but we may readily guess 
that the persevering cultivator who attempted it would 
accomplish his object by saving seed from those only 
which did resist, bo that one the only individual in an 
hundred. As this process has been repeated up to the 
present day, we are now able to sow our varieties of 
Cabbage as early as the 20th July, without the danger 
of their seeding in ordinary seasons, for it is necessary 
to put in this qualification. Nevertheless, it would be 
wrong to say that the principal crop ought to be sown 
before August, as already specified. 
It is here proper to observe, that if by any accident 
the two first sowings above-mentioned fail from any 
cause, a great advantage may be taken by sowing a few 
of the August plants on a piece of very fine and rich 
ground, and not too thick; the rapid growth then com¬ 
menced must be carried ou in the next plot they are 
transferred to, so that by Christmas they are large, well- 
formed plants, their rapid growth certainly unfitting 
them to stand the severities of the season, as well as 
those which have a greater age to boast of, still they are 
less likely to run to seed, and the produce will be sure. 
It is proper to observe that this process might, with still 
greater advantages, bo adopted in the middle sowing. 
It is almost needless here to enter into the minutiae 
of Cabbage growing ; suffice it to say, that the earliest 
planted may be planted a little closer than the main 
summer crop, a good open situation being selected for 
all; the earliest, however, are often favoured with an 
early border in order to hasten them on. And although 
large breadths of Cabbages of a useful, good kind may 
bo seen, yet we seldom see them so correctly true any¬ 
where as in the large market gardens which supply 
London and other .towns. Many cottagers, in districts 
where they grow their own seeds, also exhibit excellent 
varieties of this vegetable, and deserve every common- 
i dation for their management; still, it cannot be said 
that the Cabbage has yet arrived at that stage of its 
progress where improvement must stop, for certain 
poiuts in the Cabbage admit of amendment yet, especially 
in their eating qualifications, which, unfortunately, some 
of the otherwise best kinds grown do not possess in an 
admirable degree. - J. Robson. 
THE OLD PROFLIGATE. 
By the Authoress of “ J)fy Flowers." 
If we needed proofs of the Bible being the Book of God, 
we should find them more plainly sot forth in our every day 
experience than in all the histories that men have written 
about it. We daily and hourly see, “ Thus saith the Lord,” 
written upon every nation, every church, every event, every 
family, and every individual that our eyes or minds rest 
upon. “ It is written,” explains every difficulty, settles every 
doubt, and answers every question. There is not a “ why ” 
in worldly affairs, whether great or small, that there is not 
a scriptural “ because ” appended to it. Does not this satisfy 
the most earnestly inquiring mind, that ‘‘ the Lord omni¬ 
potent reigneth," and that His mighty finger has written 
those wondrous declarations that are so clearly and fully 
established by everything that happens to the children of 
men? There is a solemn declaration made by the Lord’s 
own mouth : “ They that honour me I will honour, and 
they that despise me shall be lightly esteemed.” Do wo not 
daily see the truth of this immutable Word? Do we not 
see obstinate sinners confounded and left to perish? Do 
we not see others dragging on a miserable old age without 
comfort, peace, or respectability—“lightly esteemed” even 
among men, and “having no hope in their death?” 
The following sketch, sent by one whom I shall hence¬ 
forward call the Cottage Gardener’s Friend, will be read 
with painful, but I hope profitable, interest:— 
“ If there be one thing more humiliating to human nature 
than another, it is the spectacle of an old man bearing about 
him the evidences and effects of a life given up to profligacy 
and sensuality ; a life which has not only wasted his worldly 
substance, but brought his grey hairs in sorrow and 
wretchedness to the verge of that bourne from which there 
is no return. 
“ I well remember, in my very early days, a professional 
man of considerable standing and reputation, who was then 
in the prime of his existence, and certainly one of the 
smartest and most fashionable of the little coterie to which 
he belonged. It has often been a matter of speculation to 
my own mind how it is that the appearance, manner, age, 
and the very tone of voice of some indifferent person, almost 
unknown to us, are remembered in after years, with such 
clear distinctness, that they seem indeed daguerrotyped on 
our memory—so it is with Mr. Sparkes. I knew him 
merely when I was a child, as passing him in the street, 
or seeing him lounge about the public square, laughing 
and joking with some equally frivolous companions; the 
sound of his loud laugh even now rings in my ears, and I 
see the merry, jocund face, the very personification of health 
and strength, unclouded by care or anxiety. But look at 
him now! See that poor emaciated form, clad in the 
thrown-off apparel of some pitying inhabitant! Mark that 
vacant stare, those' attenuated limbs, those pallid lips, 
muttering an incoherent conversation with himself! Can 
this be the man 1 have been describing ? It is even he; 
and let my readers mark and remember that his present 
state has been brought about by intemperance and its 
accompanying vices. II is condition is indeed most pitiable. 
He is, I am told, kept from positive starvation by the kind¬ 
ness of some individuals who knew him in bis best days ;— 
one sends him a sack of Hour, another an old coat, a third, 
perhaps, a cast-away hat: and these acts of benevolence are 
performed with the greatest caution; for, although suffering 
the greatest privations, and drinking the cup of poverty to 
tiic very dregs, yet his pride remains unsubdued, and did 
he know from whose hands he received these necessary 
kindnesses, he would, without hesitation, return these gifts 
into the hands of the bestowers. He is, indeed, a pitiable 
object; unnoticed by those who formerly sought his com¬ 
pany, lie remains an abandoned outcast of society, a warning 
to the young, and an object of solemn commisseration to 
the thoughtful. May God grant that his example may not 
be lost, and that his sins may be repented of before be goes, 
hence, and is no more seen of men.” 
