WITHIN AND WITHOUT THE ROADSIDE.
Besides the legal duty every dweller by a highway is under, to use
it with due regard to the rights of the public, he is under a moral
and Christian obligation to maintain order and neatness within and
without his roadside. The occupations and amenities of life are so
interwoven and intermixed that no one can live for himself alone
with justice to himself or to society. There is something in the
very nature of things which makes for the reward of unselfish
exertion and for the condemnation of selfish acts. "Whosoever shall
seek to save his life, shall lose it; and whosoever shall lose his
life, shall preserve it." Public spirit, like virtue, is its own
exceeding great reward. When one benefits the community in which he
lives, he thereby also benefits himself; and when he is possessed of
the right kind of a public spirit, he will beautify and improve his
homestead and his roadside, and will even throw the cobble-stones
out of the roadway in front of his house without compensation or
even hope of financial reward.
When he plants a tree for the sole purpose of doing something for
posterity, and then watches its growth and expansion from day to day
until he becomes familiar with its varied aspects in sunny and in
stormy weather, and finally, walking beneath its cooling shade and
seeing its limbs swaying gracefully over surrounding objects, his
heart goes out towards it with a feeling of tenderness and love, and
he feels that he has been paid a thousand times for setting it out.
When after years of endeavor in trying to keep his roadside neat and
clean and covered with greensward, he finds that his example is
having some influence on his neighbors, and that even the
road-menders begin to respect his efforts to improve the wayside, he
feels that he has been amply compensated for all his trouble and
care in his own increased enjoyment and in the increased enjoyment
he has been the means of giving to the public.
First impressions always have great influence upon our minds.
Nothing will give a traveller a poorer and meaner opinion of a town
and its inhabitants than dilapidated buildings surrounded by rubbish
and broken-down fences. When a traveller passes a house of this
character, he instinctively says to himself, "Some shiftless and
poverty-stricken family lives here;" but when he passes a well-kept
house with pleasant surroundings, he says, "This must be the abode
of intelligent and well-to-do people." He feels like stopping and
forming their acquaintance, for he is sure that their acquaintance
would be worth having. Our opinion of a person's character is always
more or less influenced by the clothes he wears and by the house in
which he lives. The surroundings of every home of intelligence and
tidiness should indicate that it is not the abode of the vulgar and
ignorant. Therefore every owner of a homestead should strive to make
it a cosey and pleasant home for himself and family. He should take
a just pride in keeping his buildings in good repair, well painted
and suitably arranged for the purposes of his business and a happy
and healthy home life. The surroundings should be made neat and
attractive, by the absence of rubbish, and the presence of green
grass and shade trees.
If he owns much land, he ought to be landscape gardener enough to
set out his fruit and shade trees and to lay out his fields in the
best way for convenience and scenic effect. He should also have
sufficient rural taste not to locate his barn and other
out-buildings in such a way as to shut off the best views from his
house. He ought also to have a general knowledge of the nature and
uses of trees and forests, and the necessity of their cultivation
for the good of himself and mankind at large.
Forest and shade trees greatly enhance the beauties of a country,
and no country can be beautiful in the highest degree without them.
If the green hills and mountains of New England were stripped of
their woods, the lovers of natural scenery and rural life would seek
elsewhere the gratification of their tastes. Even the stately homes
of England would appear commonplace in the absence of the majestic
trees and forests which now encircle them. A plain, modest house,
situated in the midst of an open grass-plat and sheltered by a few
handsome shade trees, is more beautiful and appeals more strongly to
the feelings than the stateliest mansion unprotected from the sun.
Who would care to live by the side of the purest stream or body of
water, if it were not fringed with trees? Were it not for trees,
would there be any beauty in mountain, hill, or valley,--for who can
conceive of a beautiful landscape scene devoid of trees?
The love of trees seems to be implanted in all noble natures. The
ancients believed that "the groves were the first temples of the
gods." Christopher North says that the man who loves not trees would
make no bones of murdering.
Some people give as an excuse for not planting trees that it takes
so long for them to grow that they will not live to enjoy them. The
selfishness of this excuse is enough to condemn it; but it is not
tenable from any point of view. It has been said that he who makes
two blades of grass grow where only one grew before is a benefactor
of his race; and of all the pursuits connected with the interests of
mankind what can be the source of more true and disinterested
happiness than the knowledge that one has been instrumental in
changing a waste and unproductive piece of land into a scene of
umbrageous and waving beauty? Cicero speaks of tree-planting as the
most delightful occupation of advanced life; and Sir Robert Walpole
once said that among the various actions of his busy life none had
given him so much satisfaction in the performance and so much
unsullied pleasure in the retrospect as the planting with his own
hands many of those magnificent trees that now form the pride of
Houghton.
Of course it is not claimed that every one should have expensive
buildings upon his homestead, or wide-spreading lawns around his
house. Many are so situated that they cannot afford to live in
costly houses or to spend much money on their surroundings; but
every one can make his home, however humble, pleasant and homelike,
and can keep his dooryard and wayside free from old rubbish. I can
understand how love can be happy in a cottage, but I do not believe
it possible for a family to grow in knowledge and virtue and enjoy
life while dwelling in mean and dirty apartments.
Cleanliness is next to godliness, and it is just as true of the
outside of the house as of the inside. A pleasant and beautiful
exterior usually signifies pleasantness and peace within. While
well-fenced and well-tilled farms are always pleasing to the
eyesight, and neatly dressed roadsides are generally desirable, it
does not follow that no shrubbery or sylvan tangles of trees should
be allowed to grow on farms or by the wayside. A bare and rocky hill
or knoll suggests images of bleak and barren desolation, cold
blasts, and parching sun; while a hill clothed and capped with woods
gives the impression of a rich and charming country. Therefore the
land unsuitable for pasturage or cultivation on a farm had better be
covered with clusters of trees or with forests; and frequently an
old stone-wall or heaps of stones can be advantageously hidden by
vines and shrubbery, as they add beauty to the landscape, furnish
shelter to birds, and often protect the crops from cold winds. Many
a wayside in country by-roads is so rough and uneven, so rocky and
full of earth-pits, that it had better be covered with the wild
shrubbery of Nature than to be cleared up in such a way as to expose
to view all its unsightly objects. Whenever the roadside cannot be
covered by greensward, the native shrubs and wild vines ought to be
allowed to hide its nakedness with green foliage and beautiful
flowers. They give beauty to wayside scenery, and increase the
interest and pleasure of those travelling along the road.