358 Garden Calls ; — 



son*}' to see one stone of the palace of Blenheim touched, or the park di- 

 minished by one acrej but not so to see the family of Marlborough made 

 subject to the like penalties with other men. In the present stage of civil- 

 ised society in Britain, there ought to be no special laws by which certain 

 individuals may, with impunity, set the general laws of society at defiance. 



No outlet from London has been more improved within the last fifteen 

 years than the road to Edgevvare, which, from passing through naked grass 

 fields, with, here and there, a miserable cottage, farm-house, or a hay-barn, 

 is now bordered by villas and gardens, vying with each other in architec- 

 tural taste, in the display of flowers, exotic trees and shrubs, and in what 

 no foreigner can form an idea of who has not been in the country, 

 English turf and gravel. The hills on the road have been lowered, the 

 direction of the road straightened, its width regulated, and its surface 

 Macadamised. A nursery at Edgeware, founded by Mr. Greg, an indus- 

 trious Scotch gardener, nearly 40 years ago, has now extended to a 

 number of acres. He yielded up his interest in the nursery to his son, 

 oij consideration of an annuity to retire on ; a plan of life rarely yield- 

 ing the happiness it promises, and ruinous to all parties in this case. 

 We mention the circumstance as a cautionary hint to other gardeners, 

 and to parents in general. The churchyard has been enlarged, and sur- 

 rounded by an elegant iron railing ; we wish two dozen of exotic trees, 

 and as many shrubs of so many distinct species, had been scattered over 

 the surface, the walks better arranged, gravelled, bordered with trees and a 

 few perennial flowers, and a few creepers planted against the church ; but 

 one step on the road of improvement having been taken, these and others 

 will, no doubt, succeed in due time. New alms-houses are building a little 

 beyond Edgeware. We confess we do not like the sight of such buildings 

 perpetually recurring through the country, as if it were a condition of 

 human nature that a certain portion of society must live on alms. We 

 would rather see a parochial school-house, library, museum, and garden ; 

 and we can prophetically see such buildings rising up from the hands of 

 local architects and builders, by command of parhament and the vestries, all 

 over the country. 



The road from Edgeware to St. Albans is very retired, and almost wholly 

 pastoral or agricultural. Some few of the cottages and gardens which 

 border it appear comfortable ; but not many. The doors of those of 

 the lowest class were open, and we could see mothers and their children 

 seated at little tables, with cups and saucers and a small loaf before them, 

 but without a table-cloth; the men, doubtless, at work in the fields, had 

 carried with them their bread and bacon. The landlord of the public-house 

 at EUestree, a man apparently more than usually religious, described to us 

 the manner in which three men had, ten days before, been drowned in the 

 reservoir. Four companions, somewhat intoxicated, went to take a sail on 

 the Sunday afternoon, and fell overboard ; only one of them, who could 

 swim, was saved. They were single men, and bad characters; and the pa- 

 rish, he observed, would be rather a gainer by their loss than otherwise. 

 How dreadful to have such a tribute to one's memory paid by a neighbour ! 

 The very idea of it seems enough to reform a man. A new inn in the out- 

 skirts of St. Albans, in the Dunstable road, has an ample garden, not made 

 the most of. Such a piece of ground, and a gardener of taste, would give 

 an inn so situated so great a superiority, that every body would be tempted 

 to stop there ; but the garden of this Boniface exhibits but the beginning 

 of a good idea. Every thing that creates an allusion to home ought to be 

 encouraged at an inn ; and, therefore, every place of entertainment, from 

 the smallest hedge -alehouse upwards, ought to have a large garden, a 

 library more or less extensive, a book of country maps, a road-book, a 

 Shakspeare, a Don Juan (purified copies, of course), a newspaper, and 

 one periodical or more. In many parts of Germany, the commonest 



