1 96 THE ENGLISH FLOWER GARDEN. 



bloom, and stand withered in the heat, while the tall Fines over- 

 head distil for ever their grateful odour in the sunny air. Myrtle, 

 Rosemary, and Lavender, and all the aromatic bushes and herbs 

 clothing the little capes that jut into the great sea which washes 

 the shores of Greece, Italy, Sicily, and Corsica ; garden islands 

 scattered through vast Pacific seas, as stars are scattered in the 

 heavens ; enormous tropical forests, little entered by man, but from 

 which he gathers on the outskirts treasures for stove and greenhouse ; 

 great island gardens like Java and Ceylon and Borneo, rich in spices 

 and lovely plant life ; Australian bush, with plants strange as if from 

 another world, but often most delicate in odour even in the distorted 

 fragments of them we see in our gardens. 



It is not only from the fragile flower- vases these sweet odours 

 flow ; they breathe through leaf and stem, and the whole being of 

 many trees and bushes, from the stately Gum trees of Australia to 

 the Sweet Verbena of Chili. Many must have felt the charm of the 

 strange scent of the Box bush before Oliver Wendell Holmes told us 

 of its " breathing the fragrance of eternity." The scent of flowers is 

 often cloying, as of the Tuberose, while that of leaves is often delicate 

 and refreshing, as in the budding Larch, and in the leaves of Balm 

 and Rosemary, while fragrance is often stored in the wood, as in the 

 Cedar of Lebanon and many other trees, and even down through the 

 roots. 



It is given to few to see many of these sweet plants in their 

 native lands, but we who love our gardens may enjoy many of them 

 about us, not merely in drawings or descriptions, but the living, 

 breathing things themselves. The Geraniums in the cottage window 

 bring us the spicy fragrance of the South African hills : the Lavender 

 bush of the sunny hills of Provence, where it is at home ; the Roses 

 in the garden bring near us the breath of the wild Roses on a 

 thousand hills ; the sweet or pot herbs of our gardens are a gift of 

 the shore-lands of France and Italy and Greece. The Sweet Bay 

 bush in the farmer's or cottage garden comes with its story from the 

 streams of Greece, where it seeks moisture in a thirsty land along 

 with the wild Olive and the Arbutus. And this Sweet Bay is the 

 Laurel of the poets, of the first and greatest of all poet and artist 

 nations of the earth the Laurel sacred to Apollo, and used in many 

 ways in his worship, as we may see on coins, and in many other 

 things that remain to us of the great peoples of the past. The 

 Myrtle, of less fame, but also a sacred plant beloved for its leaves 

 and blossoms, was, like the Laurel, seen near the temples of the race 

 who built their temples as the Lily is built, whose song is deathless, 

 and the fragments of whose art are despair to the artist of our time. 

 And thus the fragrant bushes of our gardens may entwine for us, 



