374 JOURNAL OF THE ROYAL HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY. 



the enriched growing things themselves, under two heads — namely, the 

 wild which spring and thrive best from residues, and the tame or 

 cultivated plants which thrive best from pre-digested or cultivated 

 nutriment. " Some plants," he says, " are born and grown by means of 

 nutriment well digested ; and others, on the contrary, spring from 

 residues and materials quite different ; cultivation causes the nutriment 

 to digest, and fertilize it ; this it is which produces fruits good to eat. 

 The plants which arise from this tempering are called tame plants, 

 because the art of cultivation has been profitable to them and has effected 

 to some extent their education. Those, on the contrary, which art has 

 not been able to direct, and which are derived from materials of which 

 the conditions are contrary, remain wild and cannot shoot in cultivated 

 ground, for nature tames plants in rearing them, but these other plants 

 can only come of corruption." This is rather hard on the wild trees, 

 which we depend upon as backgrounds to, and even as the furnishers 

 of, our gardens, such as the oaks, ash, sycamore, elm, beech, and maples, 

 and so forth, but it is seeing things through the spectacles of the Greeks, 

 who delighted in strenuous cultivation, and for the present we will sit 

 down with it. 



Change and decay in the garden is inevitable, and the worthiest are 

 those who can turn the products of waste and decay to the profit of the 

 differing living things that remain. 



The first question that presents itself is : Is our ideal a worthy one ? 

 Is it replete and vigorous ? The ideal garden, which I rapidly outlined in 

 my former lecture, is the one that nearest approaches the planted gardens 

 of Eden and Solomon. The next important question : Is the position and 

 environment suitable ? The built Egyptian and Babylonian gardens, 

 introduced in my former sketch as a background, had not a suitable 

 environment, therefore there was every excuse for their artificiality. This 

 excuse we in Britain cannot generally plead, our environment is suitable, 

 if not too circumscribed, for the ideal garden of freedom. These essentials 

 settled, let us cull and glean whatever we can to nourish and strengthen 

 our ideal. Whatever has grown obsolete, and what in other ages has 

 decayed, let us put into the crucible, or else dig out from the rubbish 

 heap, along with the well-decayed leaf mould of former generations, and 

 apply it wisely for purposes of growth, and for invigorating that which 

 has present life. 



I now purpose to take up accounts of the Greek and ancient Roman 

 gardens. This perhaps is a summary way of dealing with garden history, 

 as much might be gleaned no doubt with great labour and much research 

 from the intervening phases of civilization, but, as I have previously 

 said, I want to keep the ethical uppermost and use the historical as 

 subordinate and illustrative. 



Speaking of the ancients as they appeal to me personally, neither the 

 Egyptians nor the Babylonians figure upon the pages of history as 

 notable or desirable dynasties, but when we mention ancient Greece there 

 is a change at once ; we pass out from under the ponderous arch of 

 frowning despotism and breathe a freer atmosphere. We feel that here at 

 least is a bid for liberty, where we may pleasantly break into the romance 

 of the ancient world of myth, of noble architecture, and great deeds, and 



