This venerable tree-which comes down to us from antiquity, studded with classic seals-is treated like a step-dame, in the proud family of fruits. Banished from the pleasant fruit-grove, where the apple, pear, and peach sport their genial gifts, and from the garden green, where the cherry and plum mature their luscious tribute, it finds precarious toleration. perhaps in the weedy sward that borders some neglected paling of the homestead. We will not attempt to conceal our chagrin, as we inquisitively paced the beautiful hall where our County Horticultural Society exhibited, last fall, the wonderful trophies of the season's fruitage. Apples and pears, represented by a hundred varieties, beamed all around, in their pale or ruddy prime; and late peaches, cream-colored, golden, or tinted like the blush of love, enchanted the eye from every side; but not a quince a solitary orange-quince-encountered our searching glances! Could we suppose that this omission was peculiar to our own pomological exhibition, we might, indeed, for the honor of the neighborhood, deplore the local indignity; but, at the same time, would extort abundant consolation from our attainments in the geography of the Union, and our knowledge that sectional disparagement has often been amply repaired by a just national appreciation. No such cheering relief, however, exists. The Report of the Commissioner of Patents, for the year 1854, upon the subject of Agriculture, recently published, may be justly taken, where it treats of fruits, as a true index of the estimation which the quince enjoys among fruit-growers generally over the country. The section devoted to fruits embraces nearly one hundred pages, and is compiled in part of thirteen reports, which had been forwarded from twelve of the chief fruitgrowing states to the American Pomological Society, during its session at Boston, in Sept., 1854, and partly of "condensed correspondence," received directly from various points of the Union, Of the reports, which form the main body of the section, but four mention the quince at all: and whilst the sum of what is said upon the subject, in these papers, is made to inflate a

space of eleven lines, the information might, without detriment to its value, be compressed within the fold of a single line! We give, as a sample of the curious in national statistics, the circumstantial flourish with which the meagre intelligence, contained in one of these documents in relation to quinces, is ushered before the public, by the United States government:-" Statement of William Reid, of Elizabethtown. and J. W. Hayes, Newark, Essex County, New Jersey, being that portion of their report which relates to quinces, to the American Pomological Society, at their annual meeting held at the city of Boston, in September, 1854."* Expectation rises on tiptoe. Here is the statement:-"Apple and pearshaped quinces are both cultivated. The apple-shaped we think best for general cultivation, and, with ordinary care, produces fine crops." That antiquated fable of the mountain in travail will sometimes steal irreverently upon the mind, by the malignant law of association. The condensed correspondence" is comparatively diffusive in relation to the subject. The casual notices of the quince, dispersed throughout this part of the section, if accumulated upon a single page, might cover, perhaps, about half its face. Gershom Wiborn, of Victor, Ontario County, N. Y., is the only correspondent, in fact, who expends more than a feather's weight of serious thought upon this fruit. Thanks to Gershom Wiborn, even for his measured appreciation!

Modesty itself is constrained to censure this degradation of the quince, when the venerable grace, with which ancient class.c learning has invested it, is duly considered. This estimable tree singularly followed the stream of civilization, in its shifting course, through early time. We first faintly perceive it through the chinks of mythical antiquity, in its native Crete, expanding its golden fruit amidst the earliest dawn of science and literature. Thence it probably passed, as a companion-piece, with the laws of Minos to the continent, where, we know, it embellished the classic plains of Greece, during the era of their surpassing glory. In genial fellowship with literature and

the arts, it was afterwards domesticated in Italy. The charming enthusiasm, which impelled the pens of ancient naturalists, when they described the multifarious excellences of this fruit, is unusually refreshing. We are assured by the elegant Columella, who scattered incense upon the altar of its virtues, that it contributes to health as well as pleasure. The elder Pliny, with the fond instinct of the true pomologist, eloquently descants upon its valuable properties, and paints the tree, as it appeared about Rome, with its branches depending to the ground, jeweled with starry fruit. In fact, the clever criticisms of this early naturalist soon become lost, amidst his enchanting panegyrics. Different varieties of the quince (more than we possess now), he tells us, were cultivated in profusion throughout Italy, both for ornamental and useful intents. Like the orange and lemon in our northern states, it appears sometimes to have been grown fancifully in boxes, which were exposed for admiration in the ante-chambers of the great. Its health-imparting and medicinal properties are extolled to the heavens. Never did our modern tomato, whose supposed fine hygienic qualities, a quarter of a century since, almost invested it with the character of a panacea, elicit higher praises. The warmth of our ingenious author, enlivening his classic page, must inevitably fill the modern admirer of the quince with enduring delight; but possibly a less amible sentiment may triumph, for a moment, at one point, (shame upon his pride!) when he finds this Roman commander and dignified sage voluntarily humiliating his patrician mind to compete with rustic housewives in their own province of empiricism. In these plebeian lists, he affirms the juice of raw quinces to be an infallible remedy for phthisic, dropsy, and the spleen!

One of the most fascinating effusions of Virgil's genius, the beautiful lament of the shepherd Damon in the eighth Eclogue, honors the quince by placing it among the select exponents of a higher order of nature-hypothetically conceived to illustrate the irremediable determination of the lover's despair.

The conception was suggested by the third Idyl of Lucretius. We copy some lines to our purpose:—

"Nunc et oves ultro fugiat lupus, aurea duræ, Mala ferant quercus, narcisso floreat alnus, Pinguia corticibus sudent electra myricæ."

With the first triumph of letters in modern Europe, the quince once more glimmers upon our view. The genial, robust taste of England, during the reigns of Elizabeth and James I., educated by her Spensers and Shakespeares, her Raleighs and Bacons, assigned it its appropriate place among the gems of the orchard. We find in Peachem's "Emblems," published in 1612, the following description of a fruit inclosure belonging to that period:

"The Persian peach, and fruitful quince,
And there the forward almond grew,
With cherries knowne no long time since;
The winter warden, orchard's pride;
The phillibert that loves the vale,
And red queen-apple, so envide

Of school-boies, passing by the pale."

We turn, with undisguised satisfaction, from the degeneracy of taste around us, to peruse the eloquent import of this early picture, in which we discover the quince enjoying its ancient peerage among peaches, almonds, and cherries, and maintaining an equal state beside the august queen-apple. We are led, by this survey, to admire, more than ever, the noble sense of appreciation which distinguished the Augustan age of England.

Among fruits prepared for the table, the quince affords the most healthful of simple domestic luxuries. An exquisite edible is, therefore, almost excluded from our daily repasts, in consequence of the meagre supply which, if grown abundantly, might gladden the whole land by its virtues. Archestratus traveled over land and seas to examine, with his own eyes, the esculents and culinary arts of different nations, that he might, by new discoveries, improve the voluptuousness of the table at home. We cherish not, indeed, his philosophy, nor the aspirations of Apicius, or Aristoxenes, or the English Chesterfield, to excel in culinary finesse, and have our name gratefully invoked, by elegant

epicures, at select dinner parties. Our aim is somewhat plebeian, but, at the same time, we imagine, more truly philanthropic: and, we must confess, to an incorrigible temper of idiosyncrasies, if it be thought that our passion, for having the table-use of the quince extended among families generally, should be prudently suppressed; lest, perhaps, like some visionary hobby, it might raise a smile, and shroud our reputation with the umbrage of ridicule. It was not the design of Providence, we are sure, that the quince should be confined, in its gastric uses, to poignant dainties, and secluded in the form of jelly, marmalade, or pellucid preserve, within the inner pantry, beside West Indian rarities. It possesses, as we have seen, a historical right to a more catholic destiny. Apple pasties and "apple butter" are always enriched by the delicious, acidulous seasoning of this fruit; and, among stewed dishes for the table, few are found to compare with the quince for thrilling excellence. Fruit-growers express uneasiness lest an enlarged culture of the quince tree might soon tend, by a profusion of the fruit, to cloy the market. We think its current high value, proclaiming, as it does, the great excess of demand over the supply, should of itself allay, to some extent, the pulse of apprehension here. Modes, however, both old and new, exist for preserving this fruit by the quantity. Downing assures us, that "dried quinces are excellent;" and the recent introduction and generalization, in domestic economy, of the hermetic seal, disclose new and cheering prospects in the future for the cultivator of perishable fruits, and serve

to give his timid forecast but the air of hypochondriac presentiment.

The quince-tree is not fastidious in its habits, requiring, for its healthy growth and productive power, neither a rich soil nor high culture. Indeed, in a genial mould, the hand of wisdom will refrain from its cultivation altogether, in order that its expanding branches, by a slower development, may carry with them sufficient solidity to resist the desolating epidemic to which it is liable (fire blight). Downing, we are aware, recommends a deep, fertile soil, and annual cultivation; but that genial professor of horticultural æsthetics had not, we apprehend, duly considered the evils to which a rapid, tender growth exposes this tree; or, rather, those evils have become more decided, and enjoy a more fatal prevalence since his lamented death. The finest samples of quinces produced in the country have ripened upon thin soils.*

What, indeed, of its kind, is more traly beautiful than a full-grown quinceorchard, studded, in the mellow days of autumn, with radiant fruit, like globes of gold? No wonder the classic garden of the Hesperides, if our conjecture in reference to it be correct, professed so potent a charm for the mighty knightserrant of mythology! No wonder the genius of Virgil found, in a forest of quinces, the enchanting token of a transcendental style of nature! Within such an orchard, for its congeniality and suggestive force in the pursuits of literature, we might not envy Petrarch his Val Chiusa; and in such a retreat, with a purer frame of mind, we might identify the Golden Grove" of Jeremy Taylor, which was consecrated to sacred thought.

66

THE THE notions which rule inside of men's heads, and the phrases in vogue to represent them are hardly less liable to fluctuation than is the fashion of the outward adornment, whether by hats, caps, bonnets, periwigs, or powder. Sixty or seventy years ago, scarcely anything was so much talked of as the rights of man. Where this phrase came from, we cannot tell. It is not to be met with in any writer of prior date to the middle of the last century. James Otis used it in his famous tract on the Rights of the American Colonies, nor are we aware of any earlier appearance of it in print. Sudden, however, and obscure as its first appearance was, it took, and soon became one of the most fashionable of phrases. It played a great part in the American Revolution. It found its way into our Declaration of Independence, and into the fundamental laws of most of our states. It played a still greater part in the French revolution. Ten or a dozen French constitutions, more or less, were founded upon it. Thomas Paine wrote a famous book, with this title. For a while, nothing was so much talked of as the rights of man-talked of, we say—for, as happened in the case of the thirsty Indian, so with respect to these rights, it was pretty much all talk, with very little cider.

In sixty years, however, fashions have changed. The rights of man -once in everybody's mouth-are seldom heard of now-a-days-unless it be in an abolition convention-or, if mentioned at all, in Congress and other respectable places, these rights, once the hope of humanity, are referred to, only to be sneered at, as a flourish of rhetoric-a chimera of the imagination.

Still, we are not left speechless nor hopeless. Hope still remains at the bottom of the box, with a fine sounding phrase to back it. Let the men go to the deuce. What of that? Does not lovely woman still remain to us? Today, the fashionable phrase is-woman's rights.

The women have discovered, or think they have, that they are, and long have been tyrannized over, in the most brutal manner, by society, the laws, and their husbands. Woman's rights is now the watch-word of a new movement for

social reform, and even for political revolution-the women, among other things, claiming to vote.

It must be confessed that such general outcries are not commonly raised, without some reason. They are the natural expressions of pain and unsatisfied desire. It was not without reason that America and Europe, towards the close of the last century, raised the cry of the rights of man; and so, we dare say, it is not without reason that the rights of woman are now dinged into our ears. Nor is this cry without a marked effect, not merely upon manners and society, but also upon laws. Almost all our state legislatures are at work, with more or less diligence and enthusiasm, modifying their statute books, under the influence of this new zeal. To that we do not object. Putnam is for reform. Putnam is for progress. Putnam is for woman's rights; but also for man's rights-for everybody's rights; and, in that spirit, we are going to offer a few hints to our legislators, whose vaulting zeal, on behalf of the ladies, seems a little in danger of overleaping itself, and jolting on t'other side. It is well to stand straight, but not well to tumble over backward, in attempting to do so.

Those who go about to modify our existing laws, as to the relation of husband and wife, will do well to reflect that the old English common law on this subject, if it be a rude and barbarous system, little suited to our advanced and refined state of society-which we do not deny-is also a consistent and logical system, of which the different parts mutually rest upon and sustain each other. In the repair, or modification of such a system, it is material that every part of it should be taken into account. Changes in one part will involve and require changes in other parts; otherwise, alterations, made with a view only to relieve the wife from tyranny and oppression, may work a corresponding injustice to the husband. Nor are the changes already made in our laws, partly by legislation and partly by usage, free from glaring instances of this sort.

The English common law makes the husband the guardian and master of the wife, who stands to him in the relation

of a child and a servant. In virtue of this relation, the husband is legally responsible for the acts of the wife. If she slanders or assaults her neighbors, he is joined with the wife in the action to recover damages, and he alone is legally responsible for the amount of damages recovered, even to the extent of being sent to jail in default of payment. He is likewise responsible for debts contracted by the wife to the same extent that a father is responsible for the debts of his minor children. Even in criminal proceedings, it is he who must pay, or go to jail for not paying the fines imposed on his wife; and there are many cases, even cases of felony, in which the wife, acting in concert with her husband, is excused from all punishment, on the presumption that she acts by his compulsion, though in fact she may, as in the noted case of Macbeth's wife, have been the instigator. Public opinion goes even further than the law, and holds the husband accountable, to a certain extent, for all misbehaviors and indiscretions on the part of his wife. Not only is he to watch that she does not steal, he is to watch that she does not flirt, and every species of infidelity, or even of levity on her part, inflicts no less disgrace upon him than upon her disgrace which the received code of honor requires him to revenge upon the male delinquent not only in defiance of the law which forbids all breaches of the peace, but even at the risk of his own life.

The law and public opinion having anciently imposed all these heavy obligations on the husband, very logically and reasonably proceeded to invest him with corresponding powers and authority. Standing to the wife, as he was made to stand, in the relation of father and master, the law very reasonably invested him with all the rights and authority of a father and a master. How, indeed, was he to exercise the authority and to fulfill the obligations which the law and public opinion imposed upon him, of regulating the conduct of his wife, unless invested at the same time with means both of awe and coercion? Accordingly, the law and usage of England authorized the husband to chastise his wife-in a moderate manner-employing for that purpose a rod not thicker than his finger. The husband was also entitled to the personal custody of his wife, and was authorized in proper

VOL. VII.-14

cases-if, for instance, she seemed disposed to run off with another man—to lock her up, and, if need were, to keep her on bread and water.

Now these, it must be confessed, were extensive powers-harsh and barbarous powers, if you please-though the law always contemplated that, in his excrcise of them, the husband would be checked by the same tenderness towards the wife of his bosom which tempers the exercise by the father of a similar authority over his children. But however extensive, however harsh or barbarous the powers of the husband may be, we appeal even to our female readers if, indeed, a single female has had patience and temper to follow us thus far-we appeal even to that single female (or married one, as the case may be), to say how, in the name of common sense, is the husband to keep the wife in order, to the extent which the law and public opinion demands of him, except by the exercise of these powers, or at least by the awe which the known possession and possible exercise of them is fitted to inspire? If the fractious child is neither to be spanked nor shut up in the closet, how is domestic discipline to be preserved? What more effectual sedative to an excited and ungovernable temper, which might provoke both suits for assault and actions for slander, than retirement in one's closet with the door locked and a glass of cold water to cool one's burning tongue?

And so of another great topic of complaint on the part of the advocates of woman's rights-the power which the husband has by the common law over the wife's property. He being responsible for her debts and her acts, and being bound to provide for the support of the children, has, as a corollary thereto, the custody and disposition of the wife's property, if she chances to inherit or to acquire any-which, unfortunately, in the middle ranks of life, where these notions of woman's rights most extensively prevail, is, we are sorry to say, but too seldom the case.

Such are the relative rights and duties of the husband under the old English common law. Under this law

a husband is not a mere chimera, a surd and impossible quantity. There is a logical consistency about him. He is, as Horace says of the stoic philosopher, teres et rotundus, round and whole,