March 20.] THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 377 
WEEKLY CALENDAR. 
! I 
1 i 
M ARC FI 20—26, 1851. 
j Weather near Lo 
B arometer. Thermo. 
NDON IN 1850. I 
Wind. Rain in In. 
Sun 
Rises. 
Sun 
Sets. 
Aloon 
R.&S. 
Afoon’s 
Age. 
Clock 
bef. Sun. 
Day of 
Year. 
20 Tn 
Sun’s declinat., 0 ° 11 ' s. 
'30.242 — 30.108! 46—27 
E. j — ! 
6 a. fi 
10 a. 6 
10 12 
17 
7 
45 
79 
21 F 
Bank Swallow seen. 
[30.300 — 30.231! 53—29 
s.w. — 
4 
12 
11 26 
18 
7 
27 
80 
22 S 
Horse Ant seen. 
30.197 — 30.086] 42—36 
E. j - 
1 
13 
morn. 
19 
7 
8 
81 
23 Sun 
3 Sunday in Lent. 
30.037 —29-979 44—30 
N.E. — 
V 
15 
0 36 
20 
6 
50 
82 
24 M 
Red Currant leaves. 
29 . 986 — 29 . 955 ! 44—27 
N. — 
57 
17 
1 39 
<S 
6 
32 
83 
25 To 
Lady Day. Lesser Periwinkle flowers. 
29.914 — 29.907 40—33 
N.E. i 0.01 
54 
18 
2 34 
22 
0 
13 
84 
26 W 
Swallow seen. 
29.896 —29.842 1 43—32 
N.E. — L : 
52 
20 
3 21 
23 
5 
55 
85 
Tiie first to assume, professionally, the designation of “ Landscape Gar¬ 
dener,” was a gentleman whom we remember—H umphry Repton. He 
was born on the 2nd of May, 1752, and died on the 24th of March, 1818, 
leaving us an encouraging example, that though all our early efforts may 
fail, yet hope need not expire, nor even sicken. We may have a long 
weary struggle up the shadowed side of life’s mountain, but if we per¬ 
severe, we shall, with God’s blessing, at last reach the summit, and be in 
time to have the sun to shine upon us, and gladden us during the time of 
our descent. This is as we would have it to all who have to achieve their 
own fortunes ; let the struggle be in their youth, and in their prime ; let 
the reward of the struggle be the comfort of their decline and old age. So 
was it with Mr. Repton. He was born at Bury St. Edmunds, and from 
his cradle was destined by his father, a collector of excise, to devote him¬ 
self to mercantile pursuits. His education at Bury and Norwich, and his 
initiation into the mysteries of the journal and ledger, at Workum, in Hol¬ 
land, and at Norwich, between his twelfth and sixteenth year, were all in¬ 
tended by his thrifty parent as the seed-time of habits which should 
render him one of those whom Shakespeare characterizes as “ traders with 
fat purses.” It is probable that the same desire prompted his parent to 
promote an early marriage, and we should not be far in error, if we added, 
that “ base respects of thrift, but none of love,” suggested the union. 
Be this as it may, Mr. Repton married at twenty-one, just ten years too 
soon, and was settled by his father in London, as a general merchant. At 
first all prospered, and his “ argosies with portly sail, rode like signiors 
and rich burghers on the flood ; ” but, after a few years, shipwrecks and 
other failures changed the complexion of affairs, and both his parents 
being dead, he joyfully fled into the country, to the rural ease and literary 
quiet in which from boyhood he delighted, and for which he had lingered 
dutifully for years. He settled at Sustead, near Aylsham, in Norfolk, 
where his only sister, Mrs. Adey, was resident in a house, devised to them 
by their father. To Mr. Repton, the change was, indeed, delightful, and 
the utterance of his feelings remind us of Montesquieu, who, when re¬ 
lating how he was ridiculed for leaving Paris, for the quiet of a country 
residence, added—“ but my great work advances with the stride of a 
giant.” So, too, did Repton’s. His “great work” was studying in the 
book of nature, watching the results of agricultural experiments, gar¬ 
dening, and studying rural scenery, and thus furnishing the ample store¬ 
house of his mind with those materials, which, in after years, were so avail¬ 
able, when in practice as a landscape gardener. From 1 775, until 1783, 
he continued to reside at Sustead, and this being near to Felbrig, where 
Mr. Windham resided, a friendship naturally united them. They were 
nearly of an age, both were living as country gentlemen, and their equally 
delighting in literature and philosophical inquiries, attracted them to each 
other. In the year last named, Air Windham was appointed Secretary 
of State for Ireland, and almost anticipated the expression of his friend’s 
wish, by appointing him his private secretary. It now seemed as if a very 
different path was opened before Air. Repton, and that abandoning “each 
rural sight, each rural sound,” he must play the courtier, and learn to 
tread, without hesitation, the more than usually dark and indirect pas¬ 
sages of Dublin Castle. But it proved otherwise ; the two secretaries soon 
became disgusted with Irish politics, and retiring together, Air. Repton, 
i once more pursued the dictates of inclination at Sustead. But the time 
had now arrived when the expenses of an advancing family required not 
only retrenchment in the disbursement of his damaged income, but some 
effort for its increase, and to effect the first purpose, he moved to a small 
house at Hare-stret, near Romford, in Essex, the whitened walls, and 
tall limes around which still arise vividly to memory as we w rite, and to 
which residence he became so attached, that lie never changed it for one 
with greater pretensions. In 1784, he aided Air. Palmer, by an advance 
of a considerable portion of the small remnant of his capital, to establish 
his mail-coach system, which remained one of the celebrities of Great 
Britain, until superseded by the present railroad mode of conveyance. 
Yet the prosperity of the system was so far from bringing advantage to 
Air. Repton, that he was glad to escape with a small loss, and it is well 
1 that it was so, for if lie had prospered as a mail-coach contractor, his 
I country would never have benefited by his publications, and the cx- 
! ertions of his judgment on Landscape Gardening. It was to this pursuit 
that he addressed himself, so soon as his connection with Air. Palmer 
terminated. It was a happy resolution ; it was an endeavour to turn that 
in which he delighted, to a profit; and was a labour of love—that labour 
which when it prospers, can best make light the heart, and glad the coun¬ 
tenance. The field was clear for his occupation, for Air. Brown had been 
dead some years, and no one had succeeded to him as a director of taste 
in garden designing. The thought of turning to advantage his genius 
for improving scenery, came to Air. Repton in the stillness of his chamber, 
when anxiety had driven sleep from his pillow, and was one of those 
“ voices of the night,” of which we cherish the belief that they come from 
the guardian angels sent forth to minister to those who love God. The 
thought of the night became the resolution of the morning, and with re¬ 
newed energy he devoted the whole day to apprising his many friends, 
that henceforth he was “a landscape gardener.” Success the most 
gratifying and complete, attended upon his effort, and obedience to the 
“ voice of the night,” sanctioned and sustained by his own strong mind, 
led on not only to a restored, but to a largely increased fortune. One of 
his earliest patrons, and who so continued until his death, was the Duke 
of Portland; and Welbeck, perhaps, more than any other of “ the stately 
homes of England,” stood prominently as a monument of Repton’s 
abilities in his new profession. It is impossible, within our narrow limits, 
even to glance over the improvements he effected at some two hundred of 
the chief residences of England, but we must refer our readers to the 
epitome of the red books , in which by pen and pencil he placed before 
the owner of each residence his proposed alteration. That epitome is to 
be found in his published works, Sketches and Hints on Landscape 
Gardening , published in 1795 , and in his Observations on the Theory and 
Practice of Landscape Gardening, which first appeared in 1803. But our 
readers need not go to those expensive editions, for the whole of Air. 
Repton’s works on the same subject, were collected by Air. Loudon, and 
published in one large illustrated volume, entitled The Landscape Gar¬ 
dening, and Landscape Architecture of the late H. Repton , Esq. We 
wish we could pause to detail and comment upon the principles he en¬ 
forced, applicable to the adornment of every country residence, but we 
can afford room for only one paragraph, in which he speaks thus com¬ 
pendiously :— 
“ The perfection of Landscape Gardening consists in the four follow¬ 
ing requisites : First, it must display the natural beauties, and hide the 
natural defects of every situation. Secondly, it should give the appear¬ 
ance of extent and freedom, by carefully disguising or hiding the 
boundary. Thirdly, it must studiously conceal every interference of art, 
however expensive, by which the scenery is improved ; making the whole 
appear the production of nature only ; and, fourthly, all objects of mere 
convenience or comfort, if incapable of being made ornamental, or of 
becoming proper parts of the general scenery, must be removed or con¬ 
cealed. Convenience and comfort, I confess, have occasionally misled 
modern improvers into the absurdity of not only banishing the appear¬ 
ance, but the reality, of all comfort and convenience to a distance ; as I 
have frequently found in the bad choice of aspotfor the kitchen-garden.” 
To those broad principles, no just objection can be raised, and, per¬ 
haps, in their application few men ever made fewer mistakes. Above all, 
he never tempted on a proprietor to commence alterations without a care¬ 
ful suggestion of the expcnce, and in this he kept in view the warning of 
Rap in— 
Weigh well the subject, be with caution bold. 
Profuse of genius—not profuse of gold. 
Nothing remains for us but the narrative of the close of Air. Repton’s 
life; and we wovdd glady dwell over it, and tell the thoughts it suggests 
whenever we call to mind all that we remember of his worthiness—but 
one who knew him better, his son, has far exceeded anything we might 
hope to say, and so his graceful tribute shall close our brief biography. 
“ It was one of his favourite maxims, that as there are more bcautifnl 
flowers and useful herbs in the world, than there are noxious or unsightly 
weeds, so the proportion of good in every person’s life greatly outweighs 
that of evil, could we but persuade men to measure each with equal 
justice. Of this maxim his own life certainly affords us an example. 
Nature had bestowed on him one of her rarest gifts ; a heart totally 
devoid of selfishness. This displayed itself in every trifling circumstance, 
as well as in the more important concerns of daily life. To give pleasure to 
another, was but adding to his own share of happiness; and, with an 
even flow of spirits that shed light and cheerfulness on all around him, 
he was peculiarly blessed in his own family circle. For more than thirty 
years of his life, success, beyond his hopes, attended him in the profession 
lie had marked out for himself; and in the exercise of which, he not only 
felt pleasure himself, but frequently had the power of promoting it in 
others. And to these blessings was added that of health, which had never 
known a day’s interruption, till the unfortunate night of January the 
29th, 1811; when, returning with his daughters from a ball given by Sir 
Thomas Lennard, his carriage was overturned, owing to an accumulation 
of snow in the road ;—he received an injury in the spine, from which he 
never entirely recovered. For many weeks this accident confined him to 
his bed, deprived of all power of motion. In a situation so trying to one 
of his active disposition, his mind still retained its energy ; and his patient 
endurance of suffering, and cheerfulness of spirits, never deserted him for 
a moment. It was many months ere lie was able to resume his usual 
pursuits; and there is little doubt that the loss of his accustomed 
exercise laid the foundation of that complaint which, for the remaining 
years of his life, occasioned him, at times, great agony; and which his 
physician pronounced to be Angina Pectoris. It. was well known to him¬ 
self (and he did not conceal it from those most dear to him), that the ter¬ 
mination of this disease would be as sudden as it must be fatal;—but the 
stroke was so long delayed, that hope had almost raised a doubt in the 
minds of his friends as to the truth of that awful fate which he himself 
never forgot was hanging over him. On the morning of the 24th of Afarch, 
1818, he came down to breakfast, not more unwell than usual (the act of 
dressing had, for some time, been attended with a few moments of spasm 
in the chest), but he no sooner reached the breakfast-room, than he fell 
into the arms of his servant, and expired without a groan. So instanta¬ 
neous was his death, that before his son could hasten from the adjoining 
room, his spirit had fled for ever. 
“ Perhaps there is no stronger proof of Mr. Repton’s love for the beauties 
of nature, than the wish he had latterly expressed, that his remains might 
be deposited in a 1 garden of roses.* To gratify this innocent fancy, he 
himself selected the small enclosure on the south side of the picturesque 
church of Aylsham, in Norfolk : a simple Gothic monument records his 
1 name and age, followed by some lines written by himself 
No. CXXIX., V 01 . V. 
