The Summer-House . 
sun burns in Leo, or when the Virgin holds empire in the meridian, than to 
lounge in a cool shady recess, with a favourite volume and a canister of that 
seductive, sedative weed, which wafts us on its thin blue wreaths of smoke to 
the highest region of the most dreamy Elysium. The bees hum about full of 
business, reproaching us for the listless mood in which we watch their 
earnestness—everything but the bee is sleepy ; the flowers nod as if napping, 
the air hums itself to sleep, and, lo! when we thought we were fast anchored 
to that favourite book, we, too, have drifted, like a reed upon the wave, into 
that tropical region where sleep, the “comfortable bird," broods “over the 
troubled sea of mind, till it is hushed and smooth." There is no better 
vindication of a summer-house than the opportunity it affords for the quiet 
enjoyment of a book or an afternoon nap. There are some books which 
seem to have been written for such reading. You could not read Herrick 
with such pleasure in the presence of a lamp and curtains, nor Jean Paul— 
no, nor Tennyson. Did the latter write the “ Passing of Arthur " in such a 
spot ? He could hardly have produced it with his feet on a carpet hassock, 
cramping his chest to a vile mahogany table. 
The question, then, is what style of structure will best fulfil the fore¬ 
going requirements. In respect of this matter we must be latitudinarians, 
and in no haste to quarrel if the dwelling-house has a Grecian 
frontage and the far-off garden-house is of the homespun school, 
showing gnarled wood supports and moss or thatch for the roof. Never¬ 
theless, a certain unity of tone in all the features of a place is desirable, and 
a rustic summer-house will be more appropriate in a garden connected with a 
rustic dwelling, than in one surrounding a grand mansion severely classic in 
style, with terraces, fountains, and geometric gardens. We must confess, 
however, that there is not much in this view of the case, as for example— 
suppose a Druidic circle, or a cromlech hoary with the weather-wear of 
centuries, to be carefully preserved as a devout man would preserve it, on a 
property where the residence happens to be spick and span new, and in very 
new and very sharp style that can be thought of. We should not blame the 
proprietor for preserving the old stones, though it is impossible they should 
harmonize with the mansion: nor should we blame him for adopting a 
modern style, which may happen to suit modern ideas of comfort, in place of 
the style suggested by the ancient relics. So much for the great question of 
propriety,—a question always worth considering; but not to the extent of 
making convenience subservient to extreme views on matters of taste. It is 
2 T 
try 
6 
