“I have said and written a great deal to my countrymen about
the cultivation of flowers, ornamental gardening, and rural
embellishments; and I would read them a homily on the
subject every day of every remaining year of my life, if I
thought it would induce them to make this a matter of
particular attention and care. When a man asks me, what is
the use of shrubs and flowers, my first impulse is always,
_to look under his hat and see the length of his ears_. I am
heartily sick of measuring everything by a standard of mere
utility and profit; and as heartily do I pity the man, who
can see no good in life but in the pecuniary gain, or in the
mere animal indulgences of eating and drinking.”—_Colman’s
Agricultural Tour._
We protest against the sauciness of the italicized line. Mr. Colman
never feels any such impulse; and if he does, he ought to suspect his
own ears. Nothing is more preposterous than interflagellations among
men on the matter of likes and dislikes. Every man selects _his_
ruling passion, and scoffs at such as do not grow enthusiastic with
him. A market gardener rails at a florist for fol-de-rol trifles; and
the florist looks at the length of the fellow’s ears who has nothing
but turnips, onions, and cabages; while a big Miami farmer, who puts
in his five-hundred-acre corn-patch, by way of summer amusement,
regards both as small affairs. We find no fault with those who possess
a super-ardent enthusiasm for flowers; but when they throw it in other
people’s faces, and call them brutes and asses, for not liking pretty
flowers, we think the thing has been carried quite far enough. We love
good manners _along_ with pretty flowers.