Preface 



What would they say now if they were led into the 

 garden through which we are now going to be conducted 

 by its creator ? Never before having seen a place for 

 growing plants in, never having heard the names of Ella- 

 combe or Wolley-Dod or, if they have, connecting them 

 with no vitalising work or idea how will their noses not 

 corrugate in scorn on merely perceiving plants only 

 plants, plants well grown, plants happy, plants well suited 

 and consulted and made at home. But there are others, 

 less rich, who will be glad of traversing such holy ground, 

 and learning how the hills can be made to yield up their 

 secret, and their children taught to forget the far high- 

 lands of their birth, and feel themselves contented and 

 at home within a dozen miles of London. The essence 

 of the real garden is the insignificance of the garden 

 itself ; the soul of the real garden lies in the perfect pros- 

 perity of the plants of which it is the home, instead of 

 being merely, by the modern reversal of right laws, the 

 expensive and unregarded colour-relief of its titanically- 

 compounded cliffs of stucco and Portland cement. Come 

 into Mr. Bowles's garden and learn what true gardening 

 is, and what is the real beauty of plants, and what the 

 nature of their display. 



A lowly piece of ground, wandering here and there 

 in gentle natural ravines and slopes. No vast structures, 

 but bank added to bank as the plants require it, and 

 nothing asked of the structure except that it be simple 

 and harmonious, and best calculated to serve the need of 

 the little people it is to accommodate to accommodate, 

 and not be shown off by. For here the plants are lords, 



