THE EARLY IDEALS 239 



things of this sort that we shall be caught napping; 

 just in these little turns, where our modem attitude 

 hesitates, reluctant that we shall lose the trail. It is 

 in this sort of particular that we cannot deceive; here 

 the garden will betray our insincerity, if we are insin- 

 cere. 



You will recall that earlier I warned of the bondage 

 into which one was in danger of delivering oneself 

 unaware — a very exacting, unyielding bondage which 

 might prove irksome and finally even hateful. This 

 is a phase of it, this necessity for being carefully and 

 scrupulously honest all the way along, in the least as 

 well as in the greatest. It is something of a price to 

 pay, demanding some sacrifice — though not too much. 

 Each must decide for himself, however, whether or no 

 he is willing to sacrifice at all, to yield old opinions and 

 prejudices and notions — and new ones too, perhaps. 

 For those who are, there is the assured reward of a 

 replica, both in the matter and the spirit, of the fine 

 old garden of the olden time, — a garden which still is 

 for us, I believe, in every way the model without a 

 peer; for those who are not — well, for those who are 

 not, there is less than nothing, I take it, in the old- 

 fashioned garden ideal, anyway. 



