THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
259 
! January 2 . 
purifying element; while the uses and benefits of such 
knowledge would be an ever-present companion, in all 
circumstances, and in all climes. I am personally 
acquainted with several instances of emigrants, who 
practised different trades, who wont poverty-stricken 
to the far-off' land of their adoption, and whose first 
elements of success were owing to their love for gar¬ 
dening and flowers, cherished even from their infantile 
years. 
A great man is reported to have said, that he cared 
not who made the laws of a country, if he were allowed 
to write, or had the control over, the popular ballads; 
, sung alike iu field and hall ; those thrilling words, that 
have roused to martial deeds of heroism; that have 
knit heart to heart in unity of purpose, and of aim; that 
have shed a true moral greatness, approaching the sub- 
j lime, over the simple annals of the poor; that have 
i shown what, next to stern impossibilities, Love could 
J accomplish, when consecrated by purity; and, alas! 
could also point to the pernicious influence of their 
choruses—their voice-to-voice swelling echoes—in giving 
a tone and a currency, and something like the authority 
of fashion to thoughts and sentiments, that in our 
retirements we would look upon with loathing abhor¬ 
rence ; so true is it that men will do in the mass, will 
there allow inroads upon their sense of right, what 
they would shudder to contemplate in their individual 
capacity. Much as we owe some of our poets for the 
glory they have shed over the simplest beauties of 
nature; it is questionable, if, at such seasons as these, 
the evil has not counterbalanced the good, by the 
chorusing chauntings about “ filling pint stoups,” and 
“ not going home till morning,” which, but for the music 
and the chorusing, would appear extremely silly and 
simpleton-like. It has lately been a source of much 
pleasure to find, from the attention paid to Mr. Appleby's 
essays on self-culture, that, with all that is yet wrong, 
the temptations to error in this direction are not so strong 
as in our younger days. 
Had J any claim to the title of a philanthropist, and 
were my powers of acting anything proportionate to 
my powers of wishing, I would discard the ballad, unless 
when instrumental iu promoting the benevolent and the 
pure. I would make little boys and girls my especial 
care. 1 would strive to sink deep into their tender 
minds the love of the kind, the beautiful, and the good. 
I would show them that ill-will, envy, rancour, and 
malice, always carried with them a rod to punish their 
unhappy possessors, and that the truest source of 
happiness, to be really felt within, is just to be always 
trying to make others happy around them ; and as a 
secondary means for producing this softening of the 
heart, and this refining and elevating of the feelings, 
I would take them to field, to meadow, and to garden, 
and from the beauties of nature glean lessons of 
generosity and truth. I have a vivid recollection of 
many a scramble and scratch, with a boy and girl, 
before I have any recollection of thoroughly knowing 
the real difference between a p, and a q; but I can also 
recollect, right well, that when some half-dozen of us 
used to fill our little pinafores with Buttercups and 
Daisies, there were no fightings and disputing then; 
the innocent good-will of paradise seemed, for the time, 
restored; and, though we knew not bow, a sweet, gentle 
influence seemed to be produced, by our direct contact 
with the beauteous handiwork of that Being, whom we, 
with vague, indefiued ideas, had been taught to regard as 
the truly good and kind. Often have 1 witnessed the 
exemplifiation of the same fact in after years, and almost 
, wished either that i was young again, or that the dear 
| flower-gatherers would know but little of the hardship of 
life. Due of my farthest-back recollections places me be¬ 
side a group of older and younger girls and boys, clustered 
; by the beds iu a peasant’s garden. Years had passed away 
before I could find out what possible connection there 
could bo between “ Love lies bleeding,” and bleeding 
hearts. Some were there who had no soul for the 
beauty of flowers, and they were dogged, sullen, obstinate; 
rough and unrefined at school, and through life. Many, 
who spoke of and examined Mignonette, Wallflowers, 
Daisies, and Gardener’s Garter, as if they really were 
part of their being, were ever distinguished for generous 
kindness, more apt to resent an injury to a little boy, or 
girl, thau any unkindness to themselves. Some, who have 
gone home, have left sweet memories behind them ; and 
one, who still remains not far from the old place, and 
possessing one of the prettiest working man’s garden, 
and one of the neatest cottages noticed in my last visit 
to Scotlaud, from Inverness to Berwick, has also proved, 
by his conduct in life, that flowers have a teaching as 
well as a charm. 
But grant that it is of great importance that children 
should study gardening, and be led to love and admire 
the beauties of nature ; cannot they do this sufficiently 
in the gardens of their parents, and their parents’ 
friends, without all the bother and parade of letting 
them have gardens of their own? No! this would be 
a sort of love and sympathy in the aggregate, of which 
we find plenty of sounding worthless traces in all 
departments of life. Even philanthropy towards the 
masses is a cheap and worthless affair, if it grapples 
not with individual instances of wretchedness. Where 
there never has been felt a strong admiration for a 
particular object, there has been but little vibration of 
sympathy for beautiful objects in general Besides, rest 
satisfied with inspiring the love of nature, in the aggre 
gate, and you get no help from the strong impulsive 
feeling of appropriateness, the having something we can 
call our own, based on the selfish of our nature though I 
that feeling be. Hence, the girl fondles and pets, and 
feeds, and prattles to her little sportive kitten, which she 
could do to no other kitten iu catland, because it is her 
own. The boy ranges field and brake for delectable 
food for his bird. He must have a strong motive to 
do it for any other’s sweet warbler. The plant so care¬ 
fully nursed, sponged, and watered, in some back attic of 
a crowded city, is not merely a memento of the green 
fields of other times; it has a charm of its own, it is j 
mine. When boys and girls change into youths and 
maidens, and they of the humbler classes contract, 
what the political economist mourns over, reckless, im¬ 
prudent marriages; this strong desire, in the very dejiths 
of poverty, to have somothiug we can call our own, lies 
at the bottom of the whole. And before the children 
of our land can be interested in gardening and flowers, 
the same appropriating principle must be brought to 
bear upon them, by giving them gardens, plants, and 
vegetables, which they can point out to as theirs. The 
mero admirers of a production can know little of the 
zest which the owner feels, who, with his own brain ; 
and hands has worked out the effect. 
Besides, the mere looker-on-admirer can realise but 
few practical benefits. Let us just name a few of these. 
There is the habit of industry formed. The boys and girls 
that work early in their gardens are not likely to become 
mere drones in the human hive. There is the know¬ 
ledge oe working the soil obtained, and that may be 
most useful hereafter. The labourer will do his work 
better; the gentleman, who abroad must find a fortune 
lor himself, may look back with pleasure to the hours he 
spent in a garden; while the wearers even of coronets, 1 
who stay at home, will not only sypathise with their 
work-people, but give one of the best gratifications to 
a faithful servant,—the consciousness that his employers 
know, from the amount and quality cf his labour, that he 
has given honest services. Then, there is the feeling of 
setf-dependimce engendered. The children are to have a 
pic-nic amongst themselves, and their own gardens, 
