194 A BOOK ABOUT THE GARDEN. 



Vaillant, and fair Souvenir de Malmaison), inter- 

 mixing a few bits of hardy ferns and of feathers from 

 the pampas grass. After breakfast, writing a sermon 

 with part of my posy before me (if I am here dis- 

 pelling an illusion that, because I preach without a 

 manuscript, I preach without any written preparation, 

 so much the better), I refreshed myself twice by peep- 

 ing into my little houses, by a hasty survey of my 

 treasures, in vinery, greenhouse, and stove. For 

 luncheon I had a luscious Beurre d'Amanlis pear, 

 which I consolidated with a brace of dry biscuits, and 

 medicated with a glass of sherry. In the afternoon I 

 had a dig in my kitchen-garden, which made me feel 

 as though I could swarm up the greasiest pole, and 

 eat the leg of mutton afterwards ; and then in my 

 parochial walk I took two portions from the bouquet 

 aforesaid, and two small bunches of grapes, to four 

 of my sick folk ; and I would that a certain earnest 

 and eloquent London preacher, who told us, at our 

 Nottingham Church Congress, that we clergy were 

 not to entertain the desire of becoming good gardeners 

 I would that he had seen the smiles which welcomed 

 both flowers and fruit. 



It is written that, in the year 1533, the General 

 Chapter at Cisteaux sent a commissioner to Scotland, 

 to visit and reform the monks of Melrose, who, with 

 other charges, were accused of possessing each one a 

 pleasure-garden of his own. And the historian pro- 

 ceeds to say that, when summoned to a meeting at 

 Edinburgh, these clerical gardeners defended them- 

 selves with great skill and ability. I should like to 

 have heard them plead. I see in imagination a 



