154 
AMERICAN HOMES AND GARDENS 
The little circular Greek temple of the purest Doric architecture is reached by a flight of five steps from the edge of the flowing stream 
A Chestnut Hill Garden 
‘Compton, ” 
a Philadelphia Suburban Estate, Full of Inspiration for the Garden-Maker 
By Harold Donaldson Eberlein 
Photographs by T. C. Turner 
ARDENING is one of civilization’s chiefest 
graces. Whatever civilization is or is not, 
whatever we as individuals may choose to 
reckon its essentials—and how many, if they 
think about it at all, will agree thereon ?— 
few will deny that the making of gardens is 
an object worthy the care and devotion of the gentlest and 
most enlightened spirits. 
astute genius of practical wisdom, sagely 
says, ‘God Almighty first planted a gar- 
den. And, indeed, it is the purest of hu- 
man pleasures; it is the greatest refresh- 
ment to the spirits of man; without which 
buildings and palaces are but gross handi- 
works; and a man shall ever see, that when 
ages grow to civility and elegance, men 
come to build stately, sooner than to gar- 
den finely; as if gardening were the greater 
perfection.” 
Were Lord Bacon alive to-day the gar- 
den at Compton would doubtless elicit 
his sincere approval. 
Compton lies on a northern spur of 
Chestnut Hill, Pennsylvania, overlooking 
the Whitemarsh Valley. About its wooded 
base winds the Wissahickon, just before it 
Lord Baco n, that Li ERODE ELIE SES OE GET REC 
The Japanese garden 
disappears among beetling, forest-crowned hills, rich in 
legendary and historic memories. In the near neighborhood 
of a city famed from the early days of Colonial history for 
its love of gardening and notable achievements in the realm 
of horticulture, Compton, though young in years, has proved 
a worthy follower in the honored traditions of garden 
making. cn four years ago Compton was not. The 
hillside, now thick with verdure and bloom, 
watered with fountains and_ scattered 
pools, was in its first estate a bare, treeless 
slope, where Summer’s sun beat with merci- 
less rays and Winter’s blasts swept in un- 
checked fury. Its transformation is a per- 
ennial witness to the constant loving care 
bestowed upon it, and years of well-directed 
enthusiasm, coupled with intelligent, con- 
structive foresight, have borne fruit in its 
present charming aspect. 
As you enter by the lodge, the whole ex- 
panse of the garden is spread out before 
you. 
Nearby, at the foot of the gentle slope, 
is a pond, beyond which you mount through 
pleasance, grove and growing border to the 
house at the top of the hill. To the left is 
the park, a newer portion of the grounds, 
