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Now do we not find a clear argument in favor of the benign tendencies 
of horticulture from this delightful position of our first parents, in “the 
blissful garden ?” By Divine appointment, its cultivation and embellish¬ 
ment was made their first employment. It is, therefore, reasonable to in¬ 
fer, that this selection would not have been made, for the trial of human 
character, unless infinite wisdom had seen a fitness in the rural occupa¬ 
tions of Eden to preserve man’s primeval innocence and happiness. Na¬ 
ture, spread out before him in all its charming forms and splendid luxu_ 
riance, was the first unsealed volume in which the Divine attributes were 
revealed. And so long as he maintained his high position among God’s 
unfallen creation, he needed no other revelation. To explore and admire 
the profound mysteries of nature was a sufficient stimulant to his intel¬ 
lect; and to move amid the evei lasting bloom and loveliness of para¬ 
dise, to cultivate its soil, and to add th eembellishments of art to the 
beauties of nature, were adapted to train his heart for the highest and 
purest forms of communion with God. 
If we now turn to man’s mournful history as an exile from Eden, we 
shall find that his recovery from barbarism, and his progress in all the 
arts and refinements of civilization have been intimately connected with 
horticulture. It is not a mere rhetorical embellishment, but the utter¬ 
ance of a great historic truth, when we affirm that “the first seed 
which” barbaric man “planted, was the first act of civilization, and gar¬ 
dening was the first step in the career of refinement.” A wild, wander¬ 
ing, or nomadic life must be barren in all the prolific fruits of civilization. 
The wandering Arab, and the untutored savage of our own continent, 
have made no progress. In their intellectual and moral attainments, they 
have not advanced one step beyond their remotest ancestors. This is an 
historic fact familiar to all. And the philosophy of this fact is just as 
obvious. Man must cease to be a wanderer, or remain in barbarism. He 
Cannot cultivate letters, establish schools, embark in commercial enter¬ 
prise, or make any progress in science and the fine arts till he becomes 
stationary, having “a local habitation and a place.” But the moment 
he locates, his first dependence for subsistence must be upon the cultiva¬ 
tion of the soil. He can no longer depend upon the chase, or wild fruits. 
Or plunder for a living. Therefore, as soon as he contracts his planta¬ 
tion from the dimensions of a whole island or a continent to that of a few 
acres, nature will no longer supply his wants without cultivation. The 
id 
