i68 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES 



a charming place in the country), because he has 

 no taste for robbing or being robbed at races, can't 

 see the wit of swearing, and has an insuperable 

 partiality for his own wife. And I arose, reflecting ; 

 and though I had taken my lodgings and arranged 

 my plans for three more days in London, I went 

 home that morning with the Rosebud in my coat, 

 and wandering in my garden at eventide, armed 

 with a cigar in case I met an aphis, I exulted in 

 my liberation from smuts and smells, and in all 

 the restful peace, and the fragrant beauty, which 

 glowed around me, until the time came all too 

 soon, 



* When in the crimson cloud of even 



The lingering light decays, 

 And Hesper on the front of heaven, 

 His glittering gem displays.' 



Ah, my brothers ! of the many blessings which 

 our gardens bring, there is none more precious 

 than the contentment with our lot, the deeper love 

 of home, which makes us ever so loath to leave 

 them, so glad to return once more. And I would 

 that some kindly author who knew history and 

 loved gardens too, would collect for us in one 

 book (a large one) the testimony of great and 

 good men to the power of this sweet and peaceful 

 influence — of such witnesses as Bacon and Newton, 



