26 GARDEN-CRAFT. 



than the sanctuary of "the dead," as we call them ; 

 the place where, amid the hush of passionless exis- 

 tence, the wide leisure of uncounted time, the shades 

 of once familiar presences keep their " tongueless 

 vigil." They fly not at the " dully sound " of human 

 footsteps ; they ask no sympathy for regret which 

 dare not tell the secret of its sorrow ; but, with the 

 gentle gait of old-world courtesy, they move aside, 

 and when you depart resume occupation of ground 

 which, for the sake of despairing wishes and 

 memories of an uneffaced past, they may not quit. 

 After life's fitful fever these waifs of a vanished 

 world sleep not well ; here are some consumed with 

 covetousness, who are learning not to resent the 

 word " mine " applied by the living owner of hall 

 and garden, field and store ; some that prey on 

 withered bliss the "bitter sweet of days that 

 were " this, the miser whose buried treasure lies 

 undiscovered here, and who has nothing in God's 

 bank in the other world ; this, the author of the 

 evil book ; and this loveless, unlovely pair, the 

 ruined and miner, yoked for aye ; a motley -band, 

 forsooth, with " Satan's sergeants " keeping 

 guard ! 



It is ever the indirect that is most eloquent. 

 Someone says : Hence these tokens of a dead 

 past open out vistas for one's imagination and drop 

 hints of romance that would make thrilling read- 

 ing in many volumes, but which shall never reach 

 Mudie's. 



Even Nature is not proof against the spell of an 



