No one of our readers will be half so curious to know what this book
contains as the author himself. For it is more than twelve years since
these pieces were begun, and it is more than ten years since we have
looked at them. The publishers have taken the trouble to dig them out
from what we supposed to be their lasting burial-place, in the columns
of the _Western Farmer and Gardener_, and they have gone through the
press without our own revision.
It is now twenty years since we settled at Indianapolis, the capital
of Indiana, a place then of _four_, and now of _twenty-five_ thousand
inhabitants. At that time, and for years afterward, there was not,
within our knowledge, any other than political newspapers in the
State—no educational journals, no agricultural or family papers. The
_Indiana Journal_ at length proposed to introduce an agricultural
department, the matter of which should every month be printed, in
magazine form, under the title, _Indiana Farmer and Gardener_, which
was afterward changed to the more comprehensive title, _Western Farmer
and Gardener_.
It may be of some service to the young, as showing how valuable the
fragments of time may become, if mention is made of the way in which
we became prepared to edit this journal.
The continued taxation of daily preaching, extending through months,
and once through eighteen consecutive months, without the exception of
a single day, began to wear upon the nerves, and made it necessary for
us to seek some relaxation. Accordingly we used, after each
weeknight’s preaching, to drive the sermon out of our heads by some
alterative reading.
In the State Library were Loudon’s works—his encyclopedias of
Horticulture, of Agriculture, and of Architecture. We fell upon them,
and, for years, almost monopolized them.
In our little one-story cottage, after the day’s work was done, we
pored over these monuments of an almost incredible industry, and read,
we suppose, not only every line, but much of it many times over;
until, at length, we had a topographical knowledge of many of the fine
English estates quite as intimate, we dare say, as was possessed by
many of their truant owners. There was something exceedingly pleasant,
and is yet, in the studying over mere catalogues of flowers, trees,
fruits, etc.
A seedsman’s list, a nurseryman’s catalogue, are more fascinating to
us than any story. In this way, through several years, we gradually
accumulated materials and became familiar with facts and principles,
which paved the way for our editorial labors. Lindley’s Horticulture
and Gray’s Structural Botany came in as constant companions. And when,
at length, through a friend’s liberality, we became the recipients of
the _London Gardener’s Chronicle_, edited by Prof. Lindley, our
treasures were inestimable. Many hundred times have we lain awake for
hours, unable to throw off the excitement of preaching, and beguiling
the time with imaginary visits to the Chiswick Garden, to the more
than oriental magnificence of the Duke of Devonshire’s grounds at
Chatsworth. We have had long discussions, in that little bedroom at
Indianapolis, with Van Mons about pears, with Vibert about roses, with
Thompson and Knight of fruits and theories of vegetable life, and with
Loudon about everything under the heavens in the horticultural world.
This employment of waste hours not only answered a purpose of soothing
excited nerves then, but brought us into such relations to the
material world, that, we speak with entire moderation, when we say
that all the estates of the richest duke in England could not have
given us half the pleasure which we have derived from pastures,
waysides, and unoccupied prairies.
If, when the readers of this book shall have finished it, they shall
say, that these papers, well enough for the circumstances in which
they originally appeared, have no such merit as to justify their
republication in a book form, we beg leave to tell them that their
judgment is not original. It is just what we thought ourselves! But
Publishers are willful and must be obeyed!
BROOKLYN, June 1, 1859.