elaborate artificiality of civilization or en- ( 



,r , - , ., f . , ,, THE GARDKN 



gulfed in the turmoil or the world s contend- 

 ing passions. We need inspiration from the 

 direct and natural, rest from the strenuous and 

 complex. We need to go at times where things 

 come naturally and in order. 



This is how the garden helps one to be sweet, 

 sane, and warm-hearted. The very intensity 

 of modern life demands such quiet as the 

 garden affords as an antidote and corrective. 

 Nowhere can be better cultivated what one has 

 called the "reverent attitude toward life." 

 Every one who heeds the call to service knows 

 how much we need what the same writer calls 

 "spiritual reactions." How often the servant 

 of Humanity is tempted by a feeling of the 

 utter futility of his work! How shall we keep 

 hope alive? How maintain -the poise and bal- 

 ance so necessary? 



I have found it good to go alone into my gar- 

 den. There, too, I find a drama, intense, com- 

 plex, ever-moving. There, too, are living crea- 

 tures, with, as Ruskin says, "histories written 

 [89! 



