xxxn. 



GARDENS OLD AND NEW. 



sprouting out like a pyramid, upon which were perched small 

 birds that streamed water out of their bills, while another 

 fountain was in the Grove of Diana, where Actason was turned 

 into a stag as he was sprinkled by the goddess and her 

 nymphs. What it is necessary to avoid is an over-elabo- 

 ration, destroying repose, such as Matthew Arnold noted 

 at Knebworth, where he found the grounds full of statues, 

 kiosks, and knick-knacks of every kind, a strange mixture of 

 the really rom.mtic and interesting with what was "tawdry 

 and gimcracky." 



Let us not forget that truly appropriate feature of an old 

 garden, the moral sundial, or, as Charles Lamb calls it, "the 

 primitive clock, the horologe of the first world " Nature 

 herself is truly a dial, for, marking the seasons by her change, 

 she tells the hours also by the opening and closing of many a 

 flower. The sundial counts no hours save such as are serene, 

 as Queen Alexandra's dial proclaims at Sandringham. They 

 pass, but the g-irden monitor has only the stealing shadow 

 when all things are gay. Sometimes dials are shaped of the 



House, Wrest, Kew Palace, and elsewhere. The forms are 

 usually simple, but they rarely fail to be satisfying. In 

 Scot'and sundials have a character all their own. What that 

 character is m.iy be seen at Holy rood, Glamis Castle, 

 Drummond, Balcarres, Pitmeddin, and Stobhall. These dials 

 have elaborate features, and the gnomons are various and 

 curious. The sundials at Newbattle are not excelled by any 

 in Scotland, and are more architectural than sculptured works. 

 The principal dial is extremely fine, and there is a copy of it 

 with some variations at Tyninghame. 



The hand of the garden architect may also be devoted 

 to the production of charming garden seats, and their 

 stonework accessories. Excellent examples are at Aldenham 

 House, Hackwood, and Danby, not to catalogue any more. 

 Sometimes opportunities may be made and used well, as in the 

 stately stonework known as Six Months of the Year at 

 Barrow Court, where the changing seasons have their repre- 

 sentatives in the semi-circle. There have been many who would 

 limit the scope of the architect to the house, and who have 



THIS ENTRANCE GATEWAY, OKEOVER HALL. 



green things that grow, and Andrew Marvell may have referred 

 to such a dial in that delightful garden of his poetry : 



" litre at the fountain's sliding foot, 

 Or at some fruit-tree's uiossy root, 

 Costing the body's vist aside, 

 My soul into the boughs does glide; 

 There, like a bird, it sits and sings. 

 Then whets and claps its silver wings, 

 And till prepared for longer flight 

 Waves in its plumes the various light. 

 How well the skilful gardener drew 

 Of flowers and herbs this dial new, 

 Where from above the milder sun 

 Does through a fragrant zodiac run ; 

 And as it works, the industrious bee 

 Computes its time as well ;is we. 

 How could such sweet and wholesome hours 

 Be reckoned but with herbs and flowers ?" 



But, in the fashioning of sundials, the work is generally 

 that of the' sculptor or architect. How beautiful are the forms 

 that have been given to dials we may :-ee at Eydon Hall, 

 tnlield Old Park, Chiswick House, Northenden, Belton 



regarded him as an intruder in the garden sphere. Those who 

 have followed these remarks, and have examined the pictures in 

 this volume, cannot hold that view. They will recognise, on the 

 contrary, that there can scarcely be any great garden in which 

 the architect does not exercise his skill. His work may consist 

 in the making of terraces, with their stairways, and in the 

 building of garden-houses, such as have been alluded to. It 

 will include the construction of bridges, and the designing of 

 appropriate gateways, which are ever a striking feature of the 

 great homes of the land. 



How beautiful gateways may be made many of these 

 places disclose. There are examples at Hatfield, Charlecote, 

 Bramshill, and other noble places which are not to be 

 surpassed. We are tempted to reflect upon the cause of such 

 labour being expended upon the approach to the house and the 

 garden. The gate was the symbol of hospitality, the place 

 where the host would welcome his guests, and where he 

 would bid them God-speed. It was the portal of the pleasures 

 he would bestow upon them, and he sought to dignify it as 



