l(i(j 
THE COTTAGE GAUDENER. 
Heckmbkr 4. 
and deception that succeeded her unholy inarriage. While she 
had to appear tho thing she was not; while she observed the 
fpiict, unsuspecting manner ol' her injured i>aront, and felt what 
a ti'aitor he was fostering in his heart; while she had to act 
the part of innocence, with guilt gnawing and tlirobbing 
within, and every inonicnt starting and trembling with fear 
of discovery,—her life must have been so bitter and burden¬ 
some, that the very disclosure and removal of the horrible 
secret must have been almost sweet. The indignation of an 
outraged and violent father was expected and borne with— 
and, no doubt, it was great and appalling—but, perhaps, even 
that was light conquired with the yoke she had put w'ith her 
own hands upon her own neck, and must carry, as best she 
might, till death severed the tie that bound her to Mr. 
Grosvenor. 
When fairly embai-kcd in open and avowed matrimony, 
Julia found at once what she had brought upon herself. 
Mr. Grosvenor was, to begin with, a Socinian : —that is to 
say, one who denies tho divine nature of “the Jjord who 
bought ns,” thereby living “without God in the world for 
“wdmsoever denicth the Son, the same hath not the Rather.” 
ITe was also uneducated,ignorant, violent, and quarrelsome; 
and his habits, in many ways, such as to make a wife such as 
Julia exceedingly unhappy. She was very young; very 
jealous of his alfections; very quick and unguarded in her 
expressions; and wanting that requisite judgment that knows 
w'hen to give a “ soft answer,” and wdien to give no answer 
at all. In fact, no two young people could well enter upon 
life more uncomfortably. 
Mr. Manners did not live long after the marriage of his 
daughter, and, on his decease, she became possessed of a 
handsome annuity; but money, though it may protect us 
from some bodily requirements, cannot procure mental, or 
domestic happiness, and in some cases it adds to our troubles. 
The earlier life of IMr. and Mrs. Grosvenor was unsettled 
and uncomfortable. Julia idolized her husband, but his 
habits and conduct made her miserable; and she had no one 
to blame but herself. On one occasion, the disobedient 
daughter acted the uiulutiful wife. She quitted her hus- 
baml’s roof, and took refuge in a lodging. No doubt, she 
was goaded to the utmost; but the vow is registered on high 
“ For better, for worse,” “ till death ns do part;” and there is 
no back-door through which a woman can escape, when once 
she has spoken those solemn, binding words. 
Sisters! let me warn you to think well before you utter 
them; they can never he recalled^ and they never can be set 
aside without tremendous guilt. If, in a hasty hour, you 
become a wife, without thought of anything beyond the 
fancy of good looks, agreeable manner, or cleverness of 
mind, you are rushing into blackness of darkness indeed ! 
While the pow’cr of deliverance remains, escajie for your 
life. It is better to give up an object beloved, yea, even 
at the church door, thaii enter upon the most awd'ul of all 
engagements lightly and unadvisedly. How many young 
people ask and answer each other every question but one, 
“ What is the reason of tho hope that is in you?” and on 
this one, alone, hangs every other! and how many of such 
married couples live to wish that they had never met! 
Julia’s alfection for her husband was so great that he soon 
won her back again. Tho promises he made were as the 
morning dew ; but she wms willing to believe them, and in 
lids turbulent way — half sunsldne and half rain—they 
spent their time. Their walks and drives wore generally 
disastrous; some fanciedinsttU would rouse Mr. Grosvenor’s 
wrath, frighten his wife, and cause confusion; and often her 
own smartness and sharpness would irritate and offend, and 
make their private hours uneasy ones. 
Some years after their marriage, when they were drawing 
into middle life, circumstances arose which interrupted the 
payment of Mrs. Grosvenor's annuity, and they were obliged 
to give up all their comforts, and retire into seclusion. 
This must have been a sharp trial, and it lasted for many 
years; but, like most trials (if we could but see and feel 
their meaning), it was a blessing in disguise, at least to 
ill's. Grosvenor. It might bo said to be the happiest portion 
of her life ; for though they were exposed to many ])riva- 
tions, and obliged to live away from friends and relations, 
yet Mr. Grosvenor was removed from temptations which 
overcame him, and made his wife suffer. A retired, but 
beautilully seated village, in "Wales, was the refuge they 
sought, close to a lovely bay, with all the enchanting coast- 
scenery of that i)icturesque land around them, and sulficiently 
removed from the nearest town to make it tolerably incon¬ 
venient to reach it; although Mr. Grosvenor might some¬ 
times be seen striding along the sands, on a large, bony, grey 
horse, with a greatcoat flying, a hunting-whip in his hands, 
and filmost the last queue that remained in fashion peering 
from beneath his hat. 
Mrs. Grosvenor’s delight was her quiet cottage ; her little 
domestic matters ; and her poor neighbours, to whom she 
was a real blessing. In all their sicknesses, troubles, and 
wants, they found ready and kind help from both; and in 
spite of dirt, which is common among the low classes of 
Welsh peasantry, there was never ending interest in all 
their doings. T’hey are such a warm-hearted, affectionate 
people, that they soon gain the heart, and attach themselves 
very sti'ongly in their turn. I have known instances of this 
kind, almost amounting to devotion, when we ourselves 
lived among them ; and I am sure the memory of Mr. and 
Mrs. Grosvenor yet lives in the hearts of those who remem¬ 
ber them resident among them, and doing all the good their 
limited means allowed. 
Mrs. Grosvenor had her bitters, nevertheless. She was 
always exposed to her husband’s violence, both of temper 
and language ; to his turn for spirits; and, above all, his 
horrible opinions whenever he was led to converse with 
friends on the subject of religion. She would sit shivering 
with pain and terror, and her attempts to interrupt the 
discourse would generally bring wrath upon her own head, 
and make matters worse. 
Alas! for domestic happiness, when young iieople rush into 
jiiatriraony like maniacs : in cxtacies at the outside show, 
and wholly regardless of that which only can ensure its 
enjoyment! There is no pledge, no security, for anylhing 
hut misery, when domestic life is thus wildly entered upon, 
and God is not in any one of our tlioughts. Tho Lord is 
a jealous God, and He has bid us give Him our hearts. 
Now if we not only give them entirely to another—and that 
other one who kimws Him only by report, and that not well 
—but likewise cast behind us, and forget the Lord, neither 
consider Him in any of our ways. Ho will plead His own 
cause; yea, and avenge it. He will blow upon our schemes, 
frustrate, or embitter them. Ho will cause us to feed upon 
ashes, and taste the bitter fruits of our own time. Unless 
we build, both for time and eternity, upon “ the Hock" our 
house must surely fall. 
(7'o he continued.) 
HIOSCOREA BATATAS, OR CHINESE YAM. 
As I have not seen any account in Tun Cottaoe 
Gai!DENEii of the Chinese Yam, and liaving so many in¬ 
quiries as what it is like, I have sent you an outline of the 
tubers of two plants, with a few statements of its culture 
by me in the gardens of R. C. L. Sevan, Esq., Trent Park, 
East Barnet, Herts. In the spring of 1855, Mr. Cutbush, 
of the Highgato Nurseries, sent me ten small tubers for 
trial, the largest no bigger than a marrow pea. On the 14th 
of iMarch, I planted them in a pot half-filled with crocks, in 
loam, sand, and leaf-mould, placed them in a house where 
the Vines were just breaking ; in about a month, seven made 
their appearance, which I planted on the :iOth April in small 
pots, placed them in a cooler house till the 21st of June, 
when I planted them on a bed of leaves and common garden 
mould, under glass, which had previously been occupied 
with Ash-leaf Potatoes ; they seemed to make but little pro¬ 
gress all summer, but on taking them up on the 10th of 
November, I was surprised to lind tubers varying in length 
from six to eighteen inches, the circumference in the 
thickest iiarts four-and-a-half inches. Taking into account 
the very small size of the tubers when I planted, I consider 
tlie lu'oduce very largo, 1 think, by planting strong sets 
early another season, without artificial heat, which they 
evidently dislike, I sliall be able to add a very valuable addi¬ 
tion to the good things of my worthy employer’s table.—J. 
SlUBON, Gardener. 
