GARDEN-CRAFT. 



an unvexed Paradise — standing witness of his quest 

 of the ideal — his artifice to escape the materialism of 

 a world that is too actual and too much with him. 

 A well-kept garden makes credible to modern eyes 

 the antique fable of an unspoiled world — a world 

 where gaiety knows no eclipse, and winter and 

 rough weather are held at bay. In this secluded 

 spot the seasons slip by unawares. The year's 

 passing-bell is ignored. Decay is cheated of its 

 prize. The invading loss of cold, or wind, or rain — 

 the litter of battered Nature — the " petals from blown 

 roses on the grass " — the pathos of dead boughs and 

 mouldering leaves, the blighted bloom and broken 

 promise of the spring, autumn's rust or winter's 

 wreckage are, if gardeners be brisk sons of Adam, 

 instantly huddled out of sight, so that, come when 

 you may, the place wears a mask of stead)' bright- 

 ness ; each month has its new dress, its fresh coun- 

 terfeit of permanence, its new display of flowers or 

 foliage, as pleasing, if not so lustrous as the last, 

 that serves in turn to prolong the illusion and to 

 conceal the secret irony and fond assumption of the 

 thing. 



" I think for to touche also 

 The world which neweth everie dale, 

 So far as I can, so as I maie."' 



This snatch of Gower's rhyme expresses in old 

 phrase the gardener's desire, or clothed in modern 

 prose by Mr Robinson (" English Flower-Garden," 

 Murray), it is " to make each place at various 

 seasons, and in every available situation, an epitome 

 of the great flower-garden of the world." 



