At any rate, among military martinet Governors; naval bashaw Governors; didactic despatch-writing Governors; Governors landing with crotchets all ready-cut and dry; Governors who support the Royal Prerogative by quarrelling with all their subjects, and Governors whose whole soul is in quiet and domestic economy, the popular Governor, the wise, conciliating Governor, is indeed a rare bird. According to stereotyped precedent, our Bermoothean Governor ought to have first sat down and written a flaming despatch home, painting the misery of the island, detailing his plans, and asking for money. Next he should have filled up a scheme on a scale large enough to satisfy the ideas of a Paxton in horticulture, or a Smith of Deanston in agriculture, and applied to his little parliament for a vote, in order to make a garden for himself, and a model farm for his own amusement and the benefit of the islanders. But it happened that our “good” Governor as he was afterwards called with good reason, was not a stereotyped Governor, so that the people he was sent to rule became happy and prosperous. He cared not to become either rich or famous. Therefore, all his proceedings were on a humble, commonplace scale. Seeing that the climate was admirably adapted for oranges; which, if of good quality, would afford a valuable export, he sent for slips and seeds of the best kinds. In front of Government House stands a bitter citron-tree: on this, with his own hands, he budded a sweet orange. The bud, contrary to all Bermudian opinions, sprouted, and grew, and flourished. After the living example of the Governor’s tree, it became a fashion—a rage—to bud sweet oranges; so by this simple and short cut an horticultural revolution was effected. Still working out the maxim that example is better than precept, our good Governor beat up for gardener recruits, accepting those who knew a little as well as those who knew nothing, but were willing to learn. With their aid, and at his own expense, the eight acres of waste round his residence, Mount Langton, were converted into a pleasure-ground, adorned with plants and shrubs of the tropical and temperate zones, which he threw open freely to the inhabitants without distinction of colour. The next step was to drain the great marsh, the Langton Marsh, and grow hay upon it, so as to give the Bermudians a hint on the oddness of importing hay, while fine grass land lay waste. Two men who could plough were discovered, and pupils put under their hands; at the same time ploughs were imported. Having, out of his own pocket, offered prizes for garden flowers and vegetables, for corn and hay, for the best ploughman, and the best scytheman, the performances of these two being as wonderful to the islanders as skating to an Indian prince, or wine-making to a Yorkshireman, the Local Parliament willingly voted other prizes for the same purpose.