280 JOURNAL OF THE ROYAL HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY. 
(unfortunately) example of the futility of gardening by fashion book. 
Nymphaeas will not flower in shade, nothing will grow there successfully, 
and it is about as hideous a nightmare as the worst architect of the 
early Victorian period could well be responsible for. 
But indeed the really successful use of water in the garden scheme 
can give the most delightful addition. 
Picture a long garden vista, sloping away from a terrace. The eye 
travels on between flower borders rich with summer colour. From 
these a grassy walk passes on its way under a group of over-hanging 
arching Cedars. Beyond them, on either side of the walk, is felt 
rather than seen the glow of many Roses, for it is the path through 
the Rose-garden. At the further extremity tumbling masses of mingled 
Rose and Clematis fling themselves above and over the pathway in 
rare profusion, and on beyond is the silver gleam of water, not the 
strea or lake of which I shall speak elsewhere, but a spacious 
artificial Lily pond. All the way from where we are standing the 
gentle fall of the slope, crossed here and there by a few shallow steps, 
seems to lead naturally and easily to the water's edge and entices 
us into the pathway leading to it. Nor is there disappointment in 
store for us when we reach it. This is no dirty stagnant water, but 
a pool, clear limpid, and serene. On it float the most beautiful of 
aquatic plants, the Nymphaeas, and during the heat of a sunny day, 
there are fountain jets that can be turned on or off at will. It is 
for the cooling plash of the water in the heat of summer that these 
fountains are particularly attractive. On a cold grey day they are 
not necessary, and can rest. But there is an additional attraction 
in this particular pool. All around its edges are growing freely 
water-side sedges, reeds, rushes, and other moisture-loving plants. 
This is ingeniously arranged for, by introducing a series of marginal 
beds inside the coping of the pool. It is so designed that these beds 
are kept permanently moist. The method adopted is to build an 
inner wall that comes up to a point just below the water-level. The 
space between the outer wall and the inner is filled with soil, and thus 
forms a wet border resembling the edges of a natural pond or lake. 
Those who feel that the Lily pond as usually constructed presents 
a hard and forbidding edge, may try this method in the full assurance 
that the result will be surprisingly enchanting. 
There is another delightful effect that comes to my mind. In a 
garden that I know, one leaves the house and soon enters a cool, shady 
walk between stately trees and ancient trimmed Yew hedges. A 
sudden bend in the walk and a gleam of sunshine and glowing colour 
attract the eye onwards, and there below is spread out a garden 
panorama that can in no sense be conveyed by words. An area sunk 
slightly below the surrounding level of the ground, and in shape a 
large rectangle ; the whole enclosed on three sides by high hedges of 
evergreen, and on the fourth the continuation of the path we are 
treading wanders away onwards through an enchanting woodland. 
It is indeed a landscape picture, for which the garden at our feet 
