138 A GARDEN DIARY 
Marcu 20, 1900 
lle ae the defence of Vanity, to the defence of 
England! ‘Attend to your transitions, my 
boy,” is said to have been the reply of a veteran 
orator, when pressed by a junior for some axiom 
that would sum up the whole art of oratory in 
a sentence. Literature also, like oratory, has to 
attend to her transitions, else dire confusion, 
and the just indignation of her readers, is the re- 
sult. The diarist stands upon a slightly different 
footing. If there is such a being as a literary 
libertine, or harmless law-breaker, he perhaps 
is entitled to the name. His pages are filled 
up according to no settled plan, and with an 
eye to no particular convention. He claims to 
be free as the wind upon the tree-tops, free 
as all our unwritten moods, which are rarely 
quite the same for many consecutive hours. 
Such at least, is the claim of this particular 
diarist. To-day, for instance, leaving the garden, 
and all that relates to it, to take care of themselves, 
he has wandered away upon the theme, of all 
