ON THE THEORY OF A GARDEN. 19 



We hinted a moment ago of the interest that a 

 garden gathers from the mark of man's regard and 

 tendence ; and if this be true of a modern garden, 

 how much more true of an old one ! Indeed, this 

 is undeniable in the latter case, for Time is ever 

 friendly to gardens. Ordinarily his attitude towards 

 all that concerns the memories of man is that of a 

 jealous churl. Look at history. What is history 

 but one long record of men who, in this sphere or 

 that, have toiled, striven, sold their souls even, to 

 perpetuate a name and have their deeds written upon 

 the tablets of eternity, not reckoning upon the " all- 

 oblivious enmity " of Time, who, with heedless hand, 

 cuts their past into fragments, blots out their name, 

 confuses their story, and frets with gnawing tooth 

 each vestige of their handiwork. How, then, we 

 ask 



" How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, 

 Whose action is no stronger than a flower ? " 



Yet so it is. He who has no respect for antique 

 glories, who snaps his fingers at earth's heroes, who 

 overturns the statues of the laurelled Caesars, en- 

 crusts the hieroglyphics of the Pharaohs, and commits 

 their storied masonry to the mercies of the modern 

 Philistine, will make exception in a garden. " Time's 

 pencil " helps a garden. In a garden not only are 

 the solemn shapes and passing conceits of grey 

 epochs treasured up, even to their minutest particu- 

 lars, but the drift of the years, elsewhere so dis- 

 astrous, serves only to heighten their fascination and 

 power of appeal. 



C 2 



