COUNTKY GENTLEMAN’S COMPANION. 
25 
i OOX'OBEU y. 
' Mr. and Mrs. GresLam placed another sou also in the 
i navy, previous to Seymour's i-eturn. Frank Gresham was 
! more thoughtless and boyish than his brother had been at 
his age, but lie was going on well; and they fondly hoped 
1 Seymour would learn a deep lesson from his own past 
i errors, and go steadily forward in the new path in which he 
I was now moving. But he never wrote to his parents; he 
j had w'ounded them till their hearts had bled ; but he never 
I relieved or comforted their sorrows by words of repentance 
I or remorse from the distant waters ; and they only knew of 
I the vessel’s going and coming by the brief notices in the 
i public prints. Let me here speak a word to the younr/, who 
I may be said to hold in their hands the happiness of their 
parents. Some youthful and careless eyes may glance over 
this page, and may, perhaps, be placed in circumstances 
somewhat similar to Seymour Gresham. Let them lay 
deeply to heart the duty of writing regularly to their 
parents. It may seem a small matter to insist upon, but to 
those who have borne and nourished them, it is a matter of 
the deepest concern, particularly to a mother. Let sons 
think of their mothers, who have watched and waited on 
them before they knew their voice—who have lulled them 
and comforted them from the cradle, and have jiursed them 
through all their childish years, and troubles, and w'ayward- 
ness, with patient and untiring tenderness; and let them 
count no trifle liUle, and no sacrifice great, that can minister 
to that loving mother’s happiness, or screen and preserve 
her from the slightest grief. And letter-wrUiug during 
absence is a great and necessary part of a sou’s duty to 
his mother, because it adds so greatly to her peace and 
happiness. 
Mrs. Gresham's health sunk under the heavy stroke of 
her son’s conduct. She had a devoted husband, and a sus¬ 
taining God, and her departure was sweetened by this first 
! and secondary blessing; but she was taken away, and in 
j mercy, for it was from “ the evil to come.” 
1 Alas! for the desolate widower. He had now to bear 
I the burden of life alone—the “ help meet for him” (and very 
i meet she was) was, in inscrutable wisdom removed, and he 
j was thrown more fully than ever upon Him who emphati- 
j cally soys, “ My grace is sufRcieut for thee.” 
I Mr. Gresham had soon cause to adore the mercy that 
I removed his beloved wife from added woes. Very quickly, 
Frank, his second son, was also dismissed the service in 
consequence of miscouduct, although of a less distressing 
nature than that of his brother, and he, too, returned home 
to the roof of his distracted father. 
This fresh trouble very sensibly shook the earthly taber¬ 
nacle of Mr. Gresham. It seemed as if “ Deep was calling 
unto deep ” to overwhelm him; but though the father 
cried aloud in bitterness of grief, the believer was dumb 
i before his God. I have reason to think that Frank grieved 
oyer his fault—it was one that many youths of much pro¬ 
mise might fall into and rise again; but in naval service it 
cannot be passed over; it must be heavily chastised, or 
j fearful consequences might ensue. The youth of his son 
! gave Mr. Gresham hopes for him; ho was a child of many 
j prayers ; the experience he had had might, by God’s mercy, 
I be blessed to him. There was a gleam of hope amid the 
I darkness. 
! Mr. Gresham had an only daughter, a girl of sickly con¬ 
stitution, over whom his departed wife had watched with 
continual anxiety; and this frail life was committed to his 
charge entirely. A father, though the tenderest, is but an 
indifferent nurse; it is not man’s vocation, and they cannot 
tell how to watch closely and efficiently. But this daughter, 
sickly as she was, was balm to her father’s heart. She was, 
like her mothei', deeply impressed with religious influences, 
steady and quiet in her worldly habits, and entering with 
deep feeling into all her father’s sorrows—in fact, minister¬ 
ing to him, as far as she could, in the place of her lamented 
mother. 
Frank entered the Merchant Service, and went on a 
voyage to the East Indies. But he lived not to I'eturn. 
Cholera attacked him during the vessel’s stay on the coast, 
and he was committed to the grave beneath the burning 
; soil of India. The intelligence of this event was the fore- 
' runner of a personal affliction to Mr. Gresham. Paralysis 
i seized him, and he was long struggling beneath its influ- 
. pneo. It pleased his Heavenly Father to rniao him up 
again; but he was effectively shaken—almost a wreck upon 
the stormy waters. His appointment had before, been given 
up—his mind could not support double exertion; and he 
now quitted his home with his sickly daughter, to seek a 
spot favourable to her health, who was become everything 
to him. 
Job was not forsaken of God when he was stripped of all 
his children, and all his possessions. Ho was not loved 
little, because he was tried much. The worldly man’s 
troubles are sore and heavy stripes, because there is for 
him “ no balm in Gilead; ” but the child of God knows they 
are needed—he knows where healing ointments are to be 
found ; and he has the blessedness of knowing that there is 
a time, and a place, from which “ sorrow and sighing shall 
flee away.” The stones' of the temple were shaped and 
chiselled at the quarry—they were polished and prepared 
before they were built up to the Lord’s house. Let the 
afflicted in Zion remember this, and take comfort. The 
Lord has no pleasi;re in the sufferings of His people ; but 
He must prune and head down the choice plants. 'The 
worthless ones are rooted up and thrown away; but the 
choice ones are “ purged that they may bring forth more 
fruit.” May we all strive so to live that the strokes we 
receive may be pruning strokes from the Hand of a recon¬ 
ciled Father. 
INYERAEY. 
I HAVE Imt just returned from the Highlands, where they 
are very ba'ckward in getting in their crops ; in some cases 
the hay crop is not yet finished, and the grain cro 2 >s are all 
intermingled the one with the other. I was visiting, also, the 
garden of His Grace the Duke of Argyll, at Inverary, under 
the care of Mr. McFarlane. ’The garden is celebrated for 
its Portugal Laurels, two of which are eighty-two yards in 
circumference, and the trunk of immense size. The Firs 
(silver) were very fine, one in particular, 120 feet high, and 
as straight as a line. His Pines were very backward and 
poor. His 6rVflipc,«, White and Black Hambro’, pretty fair; 
but very small bunches. His Fcuc/tcs, Nectarines, Apricots, 
plentiful; but very small. Apples and Pears in abundance. 
Plums, none.—W. H. AVaenee. 
QUERIES AND ANSWERS. 
GARDENING. 
GATHERING CRASSANE PEARS.-FRUIT OF 
CRATiEGUS ORIENTALIS. 
“1. I have about two dozen very fine Crassanc Pears on 
one of my trees; ought I to gather them at once, and 
keep them for some time, to ripen in-doors, or let them 
hang for some time longer ? 
“ 2. CraUegus oricntnlis. —I sent some berries of a shrub 
to my nurseryman, in Reading, last week, and he named the 
tree as written above. It is covered with the most beautiful 
scarlet berries, about the size of a Siberian Crab, and in 
form, like the common fruit of the Hawthorn. What use 
can these berries be put to ? Are they good for eating, or 
preserving in any way? It seems a pity to let them lie and 
rot on the ground.—Wii/UAir oe AA'vKEiiAir.” 
[AVhenever your Pears will come off by merely raising 
the fruit in the hand, seperating freely from the branch, 
they are ready to be gathered, but not before. 
The fruit of Cralxgus orientalis, or Eastern Azarole, is 
good to eat, and of an agreeable flavour; but we are not 
aware that there is any mode of preserving them. AYhen 
they are fully ripe they have the flavour of Medlars.] 
RED ROMAN NECTARINE. 
“Among other trees, on a glass-covered wall, I have a 
flne, healthy, Red Roman Nectarine, that has had, this year, 
about eight dozen fine-looking fruit on it, that appeared all 
you could wish ; but when gathered, were all of them qiiite 
tough, like fruit that had been gathered before ripe, though 
some remained on the tree till quite shrivelled. I)o you 
think they may be better another year?—A SuDscRTEEr.." 
[Perhaps you are not aware tljat the true Red Roman 
