Mons. Malherbes loved to relate an answer made to him by a common fellow, during his stay at Paris, when he was obliged to go four times every day to the prison of the Temple, to attend the king: his extreme age did not allow him to walk, and he was compelled to take a carriage. One day, particularly, when the weather was intensely severe, he perceived, on coming out of the vehicle, that the driver was benumbed with cold. "My friend," said Malherbes to him, in his naturally tender manner, "you must be penetrated by the cold, and I am really sorry to take you abroad in this bitter season."—"That's nothing, M. de Malherbes; in such a cause as this, I'd travel to the world's end without complaining."—"Yes, but your poor horses could not."—"Sir," replied the honest coachman, "my horses think as I do."

[10] I cannot pass by the name of Henry, without the recollection of what an historian says of him: "L'Abbe Langlet du Fresnoy a publie cinquante-neuf lettres de a bon Roi, dans sa nouvelle edition du Journal de Henry III. on y remarque du feu de l'esprit, de l'imagination, et sur-tout cette eloquence du coeur, qui plait tout dans un monarque.—On l'exortoit a traiter avec rigueur quelques places de la Ligue, qu'il avoit redites par la force: La satisfaction qu'on tire de la vengeance ne dure qu'un moment (repondit ce prince genereuse) mais celle qu'on tire de la clemence est eternelle. Plus on connoitre Henri, plus on l'aimera, plus on l'admiriroet."

[11] The king, knowing his fine taste for sculpture and painting, sent him to Italy, and the Nouv. Dict. Hist. gives this anecdote: "La Pape instruit de son merite, voulut le voir, et lui donna une assez longue audience, sur la fin de laquelle le Notre s'ecria en s'adressant au Pape: J'ai vu les plus grands hommes du monde, Votre Saintete, et le Roi mon maitre. Il y a grande difference, dit le Pape; le Roi est un grand prince victorieux, je suis un pauvre pretre serviteur des serviteurs de Dieu. Le Notre, charme de cette reponse, oublia qui la lui faisoit, et frappant sur l'epaule du Pape lui repondit a son tour: Mon Reverend Pere, vous vous portez bien et vous enterrerez tout la Sacre College. Le Pape, qui entendoit le Francois, rit du pronostic. Le Notre, charme de plus en plus de sa bonte, et de l'estime particuliere qu'il temoignoit pour le Roi, se jeta au cou du Pape et l'embrassa. C'etoit au reste sa coutume d'embrasser tous ceux qui publioient les louanges de Louis XIV., et il embrassoit le Roi lui-meme, toutes les fois que ce prince revenoit de la campagne."

[12] I will conclude by mentioning a justly celebrated man, who, it seems was not over fond of his garden, though warmly attached both to Boileau, and to Mad. de Sevigne,—I mean that most eloquent preacher Bossuet, of whom a biographer, after stating that he was so absorbed in the study of the ancient fathers of the church, "qu'il ne se permettoit que des delassemens fort courts. Il ne se promenoit que rarement meme dans son jardin. Son jardinier lui dit un jour: Si je plantois des Saint Augustins, et des Saint Chrysostomes, vous les viendriez voir; mais pour vos arbres, vous ne vous en souciez guere."

[13] Mr. Worlidge, who wrote during part of the reigns of Charles II. and James II. judiciously observes, that "the glory of the French palaces, often represented to our English eyes in sculpture, are adorned with their beauteous gardens before them; which wanting, they would seem without lustre or grandeur."

[14] He was fined L30,000 for having taken a favourite of the king's, in the very presence chamber, by the nose, for having insulted him, and afterwards dragging him out of the room.

[15] It was to this nobleman, that Addison addressed his elegant and sublime epistle, after he had surveyed with the eyes and genius of a classical poet, the monuments and heroic deeds of ancient Rome.

[16] Lord Chesterfield thus speaks of this distinguished man:—"His private life was stained by no vices, nor sullied by any meanness. His eloquence was of every kind; but his invectives were terrible, and uttered with such energy of diction and countenance, that he intimidated those who were the most willing and the best able to encounter him." Sir W. Chatham Trelawney used to observe of him, that it was impossible for the members of the side opposed to him in the House of Commons to look him in the face when he was warmed in debate: he seemed to bid them all a haughty defiance. "For my own part," said Trelawney, "I never dared cast my eyes towards his, for if I did, they nailed me to the floor."

Smollet says, that he displayed "such irresistible energy of argument, and such power of elocution, as struck his hearers with astonishment and admiration. It flashed like the lightning of heaven against the ministers and sons of corruption, blasting where it smote, and withering the nerves of opposition; but his more substantial praise was founded upon his disinterested integrity, his incorruptible heart, his unconquerable spirit of independance, and his invariable attachment to the interest and liberty of his country." Another biographer thus mentions him:—"His elevated aspect commanded the awe and mute attention of all who beheld him, whilst a certain grace in his manner, conscious of all the dignities of his situation, of the solemn scene he acted in, as well as his own exalted character, seemed to acknowledge and repay the respect he received; his venerable form, bowed with infirmity and age, but animated by a mind which nothing could subdue; his spirit shining through him, arming his eye with lightning, and cloathing his lips with thunder; or, if milder topics offered, harmonizing his countenance in smiles, and his voice in softness, for the compass of his powers was infinite. As no idea was too vast, no imagination too sublime, for the grandeur and majesty of his manner; so no fancy was too playful, nor any allusion too comic, for the ease and gaiety with which he could accommodate to the occasion. But the character of his oratory was dignity; this presided in every respect, even to his sallies of pleasantry."

[17] Sir Walter Scott's attachment to gardens, breaks out even in his Life of Swift, where his fond enquiries have discovered the sequestered and romantic garden of Vanessa, at Marley Abbey.

[18] So thought Sir W. Raleigh;

Sweet violets, love's paradise, that spread Your gracious odours ... Upon the gentle wing of some calm-breathing wind, That plays amidst the plain.

The lines in Twelfth Night we all recollect:

That strain again;—it had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.

That these flowers were the most favourite ones of Shakspeare, there can be little doubt—Perditta fondly calls them

——sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath.

When Petrarch first saw Laura: "elle avail une robe verte, sa coleur favorite, parsemee de violettes, la plus humble des fleurs."—Childe Harold thus paints this flower:

The sweetness of the violet's deep blue eyes (Kiss'd by the breath of heaven) seems colour'd by its skies.



[19] One almost fancies one perceives Lord Bacon's attachment to gardens, or to rural affairs, even in the speech he made before the nobility, when first taking his seat in the High Court of Chancery; he hoped "that these same brambles that grow about justice, of needless charge and expence, and all manner of exactions, might be rooted out;" adding also, that immediate and "fresh justice was the sweetest." Mr. Mason, in a note to his English Garden, after paying a high compliment to Lord Bacon's picturesque idea of a garden, thus concludes that note:—"Such, when he descended to matters of more elegance (for, when we speak of Lord Bacon, to treat of these was to descend,) were the amazing powers of this universal genius."

[20] Mr. Pope's delight in gardens, is visible even in the condensed allusion he makes to them, in a letter to Mr. Digby; "I have been above a month strolling about in Buckinghamshire and Oxfordshire, from garden to garden, but still returning to Lord Cobham's, with fresh satisfaction. I should be sorry to see my Lady Scudamore's, till it has had the full advantage of Lord Bathurst's improvements."

[21] A biographer thus speaks of the Prince de Ligne: "Quand les rois se reunirent a Vienne en 1814, ils se firent tous un devoir de l'accuellier avec distinction, et furent enchante de la vivacite de son esprit, et de son intarissable gaiete, qui malgre ses infirmites et son grand age, ne l'avoit pasencore abandonne. Ses saillies, et ses bon mots etoient comme autrefois repetes pour tous." His generous heart thus speaks of the abused and unfortunate Marie Antoinette:—"The breath of calumny has not even respected the memory of the loveliest and best of women, of whose spotless heart and irreproachable conduct, no one can bear stronger evidence than I. Her soul was as pure as her face was fair; yet neither virtue nor beauty could save the victim of sanguinary liberty." In relating this (says his biographer), his voice faultered, and his eyes were suffused with tears. He thus briefly states, with his usual humour and vivacity, his conversation with Voltaire as to the garden at Ferney:

P. de L.—Monsieur, Monsieur, cela doit vous coupe beaucoup, quel charmant jardin!

Volt.—Oh! mon jardinier est un bete: c'est moi meme qui ait fait tout.

P. de L.—Je le croi.

[22] Monsieur Thomas, in his eulogy of Descartes says, it should have been pronounced at the foot of Newton's statue: or rather, Newton himself should have been his panegyrist. Of this eulogy, Voltaire, in a most handsome letter to Mons. Thomas, thus speaks:—"votre ouvrage m'enchante d'un bout a l'autre, et Je vais le relire des que J'aurai dicte ma lettre." The sleep and expanding of flowers are most interestingly reviewed by Mr. Loudon in p. 187 of his Encyclop., and by M. V. H. de Thury, in the above discourse, a few pages preceding his seducing description of the magnificent garden of M. de Boursault.

So late ago as the year 1804 it was proposed at Avignon, to erect an obelisk in memory of Petrarch, at Vaucluse: "il a ete decide, qu'on l'elevera, vis-avis l'ancien jardin de Petrache, lieu ou le lit de sorgue forme un angle."

[23] This garden (as Mr. Walpole observes) was planted by the poet, enriched by him with the fairy gift of eternal summer.

[24] Mr. Pope thus mentions the vines round this cave:—

Depending vines the shelving cavern skreen, With purple clusters blushing through the green.



[25] Nearly eight pages of Mr. Loudon's Encyclop. are devoted to a very interesting research on the gardens of the Romans. Sir Joseph Banks has a paper on the Forcing Houses of the Romans, with a list of Fruits cultivated by them, now in our gardens, in vol. 1 of the Hort. Trans.

[26] Dr. Pulteney gives a list of several manuscripts in the Bodleian Library, the writers of which are unknown, and the dates not precisely determined, but supposed to have been written, if not prior to the invention of printing, at least before the introduction of that art into England. I select the two following.—

No. 2543. De Arboribus, Aromatis, et Floribus.

No. 2562. Glossarium Latino-anglicum Arborum, Fructuum, Frugam, &c.

And he states the following from Bib. S. Petri Cant:—

No. 1695. Notabilia de Vegetabilibus, et Plantis.

Dr. Pulteney observes, that the above list might have been considerably extended, but that it would have unnecessarily swelled the article he was then writing.

The Nouv. Dict. Hist. mentions a personage whose attachment to his garden, and one of whose motives for cultivating that garden, does not deserve a notice:—"Attale III. Roi de Pergame, fils de Stratonice, soulla la throne en repandant le sang de ses amis et de sea parens. Il abandonna ensuite le soin de ses affaires pour s'occuper entirement de son jardin. Il y cultivoit des poisons, tels que l'aconit et la cigue, qu'il envoyoit quelque fois en present a ses amis. Il mourut 133 ans avant Jesus Christ."

[27] To have completed the various contrasting vicissitudes of this poor Suffolk farmer's life, he should have added to his other employments, those of another Suffolk man, the late W. Lomax, who had been grave-digger at the pleasant town of Bury St. Edmund's, for thirty-six years, and who, also, for a longer period than thirty-six years, had been a morrice-dancer at all the elections for that borough.

[28] Gerarde, speaking of good sorts of apples and pears, thus mentions the above named Pointer:—"Master Richard Pointer has them all growing in his ground at Twickenham, near London, who is a most cunning and curious grafter and planter of all manner of rare fruits; and also in the ground of an excellent grafter and painful planter, Master Henry Bunbury, of Touthil-street, near unto Westminster; and likewise in the ground of a diligent and most affectionate lover of plants, Master Warner, neere Horsely Down, by London; and in divers other grounds about London."

[29] The fate of this poor man reminds one of what is related of Corregio:—"He received from the mean canons of Parma, for his Assumption of the Virgin, the small pittance of two hundred livres, and it was paid him in copper. He hastened with the money to his starving family; but as he had six or eight miles to travel from Parma, the weight of his burden, and the heat of the climate, added to the oppression of his breaking heart, a pleurisy attacked him, which, in three days, terminated his existence and his sorrows in his fortieth year."

If one could discover a portrait of either of the authors mentioned in the foregoing list, one might, I think, inscribe under each of such portraits, these verses:

Ce pourtrait et maint liure Par le peintre et l'escrit, Feront reuoir et viure Ta face et ton esprit.

They are inscribed under an ancient portrait, done in 1555, which Mr. Dibdin has preserved in his account of Caen, and which he thus introduces: "As we love to be made acquainted with the persons of those from whom we have received instruction and pleasure, so take, gentle reader, a representation of Bourgueville."

[30] "Mr. John Parkinson, an apothecary of this city, (yet living, and labouring for the common good,) in the year 1629, set forth a work by the name of Paradisus Terrestris, wherein he gives the figures of all such plants as are preserved in gardens, for the beauty of their flowers, in use in meats or sauces; and also an orchard for all trees bearing fruit, and such shrubs as for their beauty are kept in orchards and gardens, with the ordering, planting, and preserving of all these. In this work he hath not superficially handled these things, but accurately descended to the very varieties in each species, wherefore I have now and then referred my reader, addicted to these delights, to this work, especially in flowers and fruits, wherein I was loth to spend too much time, especially seeing I could adde nothing to what he had done upon that subject before."

[31] "Mr. Hartlib (says Worlidge) tells you of the benefits of orchard fruits, that they afford curious walks for pleasure, food for cattle in the spring, summer, and winter, (meaning under their shadow,) fewel for the fire, shade for the heat, physick for the sick, refreshment for the sound, plenty of food for man, and that not of the worst, and drink also of the best."

Milton also in the above Tractate thus speaks:—"In those vernal seasons of the year, when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against nature, not to go out and see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with heaven and earth."

[32] In the above tract of Dr. Beale's, he thus breaks out in praise of the Orchards of this deep and rich county:—"From the greatest person to the poorest cottager, all habitations are encompassed with orchards, and gardens, and in most places our hedges are enriched with rows of fruit trees, pears or apples. All our villages, and generally all our highways, (all our vales being thick set with rows of villages), are in the spring time sweetened and beautified with the blossomed trees, which continue their changeable varieties of ornament, till (in the end of autumn), they fill our garners with pleasant fruit, and our cellars with rich and winy liquors. Orchards, being the pride of our county, do not only sweeten, but also purify the ambient air, which I conceive to conduce very much to the constant health and long lives for which our county hath always been famous. We do commonly devise a shadowy walk from our gardens, through our orchards (which is the richest, sweetest, and most embellished grove) into our coppice woods, or timber woods." Dr. Beale does not praise the whole of their land. He describes some as "starvy, chapt, and cheany, as the basest land upon the Welch mountains." He makes amends, however, for this, for he describes the nags bred on their high grounds, as very different from our present hackney-coach horses; they "are airey and sinewy, full of spirits and vigour, in shape like the barbe, they rid ground, and gather courage and delight in their own speed."

[33] A Lady Gerard is mentioned in two letters of Mr. Pope, to W. Fortescue, Esq. They have no date to them. They appear in Polwhele's History of Devonshire. "I have just received a note from Mrs. Blount, that she and Lady Gerard will dine here to-day." And "Lady Gerard was to see Chiswick Gardens (as I imagined) and therefore forced to go from hence by five; it was a mortification to Mrs. Blount to go, when there was a hope of seeing you and Mr. Fortescue." There are three more letters, without date, to Martha Blount, written from the Wells at Bristol, and from Stowe, in which Pope says, "I have no more room but to give Lady Gerard my hearty services." And "once more my services to Lady Gerard." "I desire you will write a post-letter to my man John, at what time you would have the pine apples, to send to Lady Gerard." Probably Martha Blount's Lady Gerard was a descendant of Rea's.

[34] A most curious account of the Tulipomania, or rage for tulips, formerly in Holland, may be seen in Phillips's Flora Historica.

[35] Perhaps no one more truly painted rich pastoral scenes than Isaac Walton. This occurs in many, many pages of his delightful Angler. The late ardently gifted, and most justly lamented Sir Humphry Davy too, in his Salmonia, has fondly caught the charms of Walton's pages. His pen riots in the wild, the beautiful, the sweet, delicious scenery of nature:—"how delightful in the early spring, to wander forth by some clear stream, to see the leaf bursting from the purple bud, to scent the odours of the bank, perfumed by the violet, and enamelled as it were with the primrose, and the daisy; to wander upon the fresh turf below the shade of trees, whose bright blossoms are filled with the music of the bee." Mr. Worlidge, in his Systema Agriculturae, says, that the delights in angling "rouzes up the ingenious early in the spring mornings, that they have the benefit of the sweet and pleasant morning air, which many through sluggishness enjoy not; so that health (the greatest treasure that mortals enjoy) and pleasure, go hand in hand in this exercise. What can be more said of it, than that the most ingenious, most use it." Mr. Whately, in his usual charming style, thus paints the spring:—"Whatever tends to animate the scene, accords with the season, which is full of youth and vigour, fresh and sprightly, brightened by the verdure of the herbage, and the woods, gay with blossoms, and flowers, and enlivened by the songs of the birds in all their variety, from the rude joy of the skylark, to the delicacy of the nightingale."

[36] Tusser seems somewhat of Meager's opinion:—

Sow peason and beans, in the wane of the moon, Who soweth them sooner, he soweth too soon; That they with the planet may rest and arise, And flourish, with bearing most plentifull wise.

The celebrated Quintinye says, "I solemnly declare, that after a diligent observation of the moon's changes for thirty years together, and an enquiry whether they had any influence in gardening, the affirmative of which has been so long established among us, I perceive it was no weightier than old wives' tales."

The moon (says Mr. Mavor) having an influence on the tides and the weather, she was formerly supposed to extend her power over all nature.

There is a treatise, by Claude Gadrois, on the Influences des Astres. Surely this merits perusal, when the Nouv. Dict. Hist. thus speaks of him:—"Il etoit ami du celebre Arnauld et meritoit de l'etre par la justesse de son esprit et la purete de ses moeurs, par la bonte de son caractere et par la droiture de son coeur."

The following wise experiment occurs in an ancient book on husbandry; but if the two parties there mentioned had lived with Leonard Meager, one must not do him the injustice of supposing he would have been a convert to their opinion:—"Archibius is said to have written (or sent word most likely) to Antiochus, king of Syria, that if you bury a speckled toad inclosed in an earthen pot, in the middle of your garden, the same will be defended from all hurtful weather and tempests." Meager, however, is kept in countenance by Mr. Worlidge, who, in his chapter of Prognostics, at the end of his interesting Systemae Agriculturae, actually states that

If dog's guts rumble and make a noise, it presageth rain or snow.

The cat, by washing her face, and putting her foot over her ear, foreshews rain.

The squeaking and skipping up and down of mice and rats, portend rain.

Leonard Meager thus notices a nurseryman of his day:—"Here follows a catalogue of divers sorts of fruits, which I had of my very loving friend, Captain Garrle, dwelling at the great nursery between Spittlefields and Whitechapel; a very eminent and ingenious nurseryman." Perhaps this is the same nurseryman that Rea, in his Pomona, mentions. He says (after naming some excellent pear-trees) "they may be had out of the nurseries about London, especially those of Mr. Daniel Stepping, and Mr. Leonard Girle, who will faithfully furnish such as desire these, or any other kinds of rare fruit-trees, of whose fidelity in the delivery of right kinds, I have had long experience in divers particulars, a virtue not common to men of that profession." At this period, the space between Spittlefields and Whitechapel, must have consisted of gardens, and perhaps superb country houses. The Earl of Devonshire had a fine house and garden near Petticoat-lane. Sir W. Raleigh had one near Mile-end. Some one (I forget the author) says, "On both sides of this lane (Petticoat-lane) were anciently hedges and rows of elm trees, and the pleasantness of the neighbouring fields induced several gentlemen to build their houses here; among whom was the Spanish Ambassador, whom Strype supposes was Gondamour." Gondamour was the person to please whom (or rather that James might the more easily marry his son Charles to one of the daughters of Spain, with her immense fortune) this weak monarch was urged to sacrifice the life of Raleigh.

Within one's own memory, it is painful to reflect, on the many pleasant fields, neat paddocks, rural walks, and gardens, (breathing pure air) that surrounded this metropolis for miles, and miles, and which are now ill exchanged for an immense number of new streets, many of them the receptacles only of smoke and unhealthiness.

[37] These lines are from him, at whose death (says Sir W. Scott in his generous and glowing eulogy) we were stunned "by one of those death-notes which are peeled at intervals, as from an archangel's trumpet"—they are from "that mighty genius which walked amongst men as something superior to ordinary mortality, and whose powers were beheld with wonder, and something approaching to terror, as if we knew not whether they were of good or evil"—they are from "that noble tree which will never more bear fruit, or blossom! which has been cut down in its strength, and the past is all that remains to us of Byron: whose excellences will now be universally acknowledged, and his faults (let us hope and believe) not remembered in his epitaph." His "deep transported mind" (to apply Milton's words to him) thus continues his moralization:—

What are the hopes of man? old Egypt's king CHEOPS, erected the first pyramid, And largest; thinking it was just the thing To keep his memory whole, and mummy hid;



But somebody or other rummaging, Burglariously broke his coffin's lid: Let not a monument give you, or me, hopes, Since not a pinch of dust remains of CHEOPS.

The Quarterly Review, in reviewing Light's Travels, observes, that "Cheops employed three hundred and sixty thousand of his subjects for twenty years in raising this pyramid, or pile of stones, equal in weight to six millions of tons; and to render his precious dust more secure, the narrow chamber was made accessible only by small intricate passages, obstructed by stones of an enormous weight, and so carefully closed, externally, as not to be perceptible. Yet how vain are all the precautions of man! Not a bone was left of Cheops, either in the stone coffin, or in the vault, when Shaw entered the gloomy chamber." Sir Walter Scott himself, has justly received many eulogies. Perhaps none more heart-felt, than the effusion delivered at a late Celtic meeting, by that eloquent and honest lawyer, the present Lord Chief Justice of the Court of Exchequer, in Scotland, which was received by long, loud, and continued applause.

[38] John Bauhine wrote a Treatise in 1591, De Plantis a Divis sanctisve nomen habentibus.

Their Preface to the above Vol. ii. has this observation: "Plants, when taken from the places whence they derive their extraction, and planted in others of different qualities, betray such fondness for their native earth, that with great difficulty they are brought to thrive in another; and in this it is that the florist's art consists; for to humour each plant with the soil, the sun, the shade, the degrees of dryness or moisture, and the neighbourhood it delights in, (for there is a natural antipathy between some plants, insomuch that they will not thrive near one another) are things not easily attainable, but by a length of study and application."

[39] What these ruffles and lashes were, I know not. Perhaps the words of Johnson may apply to them:—

Fate never wounds more deep the generous heart, Than when a blockhead's insult points the dart. This mournful truth is every where confess'd, Slow rises worth, by poverty oppress'd.



[40] Barnaby Gooche, in his Chapter on Gardens, calls the sun "the captaine and authour of the other lights, the very soule of the world."

[41] A translation of De Lille's garden thus pleads:—

Oh! by those shades, beneath whose evening bowers The village dancers tripp'd the frolic hours; By those deep tufts that show'd your fathers' tombs, Spare, ye profane, their venerable glooms! To violate their sacred age, beware, Which e'en the awe-struck hand of time doth spare.



[42] Mr. Whateley observes, that "The whole range of nature is open to him, (the landscape gardener) from the parterre to the forest; and whatever is agreeable to the senses, or the imagination, he may appropriate to the spot he is to improve; it is a part of his business to collect into one place, the delights which are generally dispersed through different species of country."

[43] At page 24 he says, "Cato, one of the most celebrated writers on Husbandry and Gardening among the Romans, (who, as appears by his Introduction, took the model of his precepts from the Greeks) in his excellent Treatise De Re Rustica, has given so great an encomium on the excellence and uses of this good plant, (the Brocoli) not only as to its goodness in eating, but also in physick and pharmacy, that makes it esteemed one of the best plants either the field or garden produces."

[44] His Chapter on the Water-Works of the Ancient Romans, French, &c. is charmingly written. Those who delight in the formation of rivers, fountains, falls of water, or cascades, as decorations to their gardens, may inspect this ingenious man's Hydrostatics. And another specimen of his genius may be seen in the magnificent iron gateway now remaining at Leeswood, near Mold, and of which a print is given in Pugh's Cambria Depicta.

[45] In this volume is a letter written to Switzer, from his "ingenious friend Mr. Thomas Knowlton, Gardener to the Earl of Burlington, who, on account of his own industry, and the opportunity he has had of being educated under the late learned Dr. Sherrard, claims a very advanced place in the list of Botanists." This letter is dated Lansborough, July, 1728. I insert part of this letter:—"I hope, Sir, you will excuse the freedom I take in giving you my opinion, having always had a respect for your endeavours in Husbandry and Gardening, ever since you commenced an author. Your introduction to, and manner of handling those beloved subjects, (the sale of which I have endeavoured to promote) is in great esteem with me; being (as I think) the most useful of any that have been wrote on these useful subjects. If on any subject, you shall hereafter revise or write farther upon, any communication of mine will be useful or serviceable to you, I shall be very ready to do it. I heartily wish you success in whatever you undertake, as it tends to a publick good." Dr. Pulteney says of Knowlton, "His zeal for English Botany was uncommonly great, and recommended him successfully to the learned Botanists of this country. From Sir Hans Sloane, he received eminent civilities."

[46] few short notices occur of names formerly eminent in gardening:—"My late ingenious and laborious friend, Mr. Oram, Nurseryman, of Brompton-lane."

"That great virtuoso and encourager of gardening, Mr. Secretary Johnson, at Twickenham."

"Their beautiful aspects in pots, (the nonpareil) and the middle of a desert, has been the glory of one of the most generous encouragers of gardening this age has produced, I mean the Right Honourable the Lord Castlemain."

"The late noble and most publick spirited encourager of arts and sciences, especially gardening, his Grace the Duke of Montague, at Ditton."

"The Elrouge Nectarine is also a native of our own, the name being the reverse of Gourle, a famous Nurseryman at Hogsden, in King Charles the Second's time, by whom it was raised."

And speaking of the successful cultivation of vines in the open air, he refers to the garden of a Mr. Rigaud, near Swallow-street; and to another great cultivator of the vine, "of whose friendship I have proof, the Rev. Mr. Only, of Cottesmore, in Rutland, some time since deceased; one of the most curious lovers of gardening that this or any other age has produced." This gentleman, in 1765, published "An Account of the care taken in most civilized nations for the relief of the poor, more particularly in the time of scarcity and distress;" 4to. 1s. Davis. I believe the same gentleman also published, in 1765, a Treatise "Of the Price of Wheat."

[47] Lord Bacon says, "Because the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air (where it comes and goes, like the warbling of musick) than in the hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that delight, than to know what be the flowers and plants that do best perfume the air." The Prince de Ligne says,

Je ne veux point avoir l'orgueilleuse tulipe; L'odorat en jardin est mon premier principe.

The translation of Spectacle de la Nature, a very pleasing work, observes that "Flowers are not only intended to beautify the earth with their shining colours, but the greatest part of them, in order to render the entertainment more exquisite, diffuse a fragrance that perfumes all the air around us; and it should seem as if they were solicitous to reserve their odours for the evening and morn, when walking is most agreeable; but their sweets are very faint during the heat of the day, when we visit them the least."

I must again trespass on the pages of the great Bacon, by briefly shewing the natural wildness he wishes to introduce into one part of his garden:—"thickets, made only of sweet-briar and honeysuckle, and some wild vine amongst, and the ground set with violets, strawberries, and primroses; for these are sweet, and prosper in the shade."

The dew or pearly drops that one sees in a morning on cowslips, remind one of what is said of Mignon:—"Ses ouvrages sont precieux par l'art avec le quel il representoit les fleurs dans tout leur eclat, et les fruits avec toute leur fraicheur. La rosee et les goutes d'eau qu'elle repand sur les fleurs, sont si bien imitees dans ses tableaux, qu'on est tente d'y porter la main." It is said also that in the works of Van-Huysum, "le veloute des fruits, l'eclat des fleurs, le transparent de la rosee, tout enchante dans les tableaux de ce peintre admirable." Sir U. Price observes of this latter painter, "that nature herself is hardly more soft and delicate in her most delicate productions, than the copies of them by Van-Huysum." Two flower pieces by this painter, sold at the Houghton sale for 1200l.

In the pieces of Bos, a Flemish painter, the dew was represented so much like nature, as to deserve universal approbation.

Bernazzano painted strawberries on a wall so naturally, that, we are told, the plaster was torn down by the frequent pecking of peacocks.

Amidst these celebrated painters, these admiring judges of nature, let us not forget our never-dying Hogarth; his piercing eye even discovers itself in his letter to Mr. Ellis, the naturalist:—"As for your pretty little seed cups, or vases, they are a sweet confirmation of the pleasure nature seems to take in superadding an elegance of form to most of her works, wherever you find them. How poor and bungling are all the inventions of art!"

[48] The very numerous works of this indefatigable writer, embracing so many subjects, make one think he must have been as careful of his time, as the celebrated friend of the witty Boileau: the humane, benevolent, and dignified Chancellor Aguesseau, who finding that his wife always kept him waiting an hour after the dinner bell had rung, resolved to devote this time to writing a work on Jurisprudence. He put this project in execution, and in the course of time, produced a quarto work in four thick volumes.

[49] This chesnut tree is thus noticed in a newspaper of August, 1829:—"The celebrated chesnut tree, the property of Lord Ducie, at Tortworth, in the county of Gloucester, is the oldest, if not the largest tree in England, having this year attained the age of 1002 years, and being 52 feet in circumference, and yet retains so much vigour, that it bore nuts so lately as two years ago, from which young trees are now being raised."

[50] There is an 8vo. published in 1717, called the "Lady's Recreation," by Charles Evelyn, Esq. There are two letters subjoined, written to this author by the Rev. Mr. Lawrence. From page 103, 105, 129 and 141, one should think this was not the son of the famous Mr. Evelyn. I now find, that Mr. Lawrence, in the Preface to his Kalendar, inserted at the end of his fifth edition, assures the public, "that the book called the Lady's Recreation could not be published by my approbation, because it was never seen by me till it was in print; besides, I have reason to think it was an artifice of the booksellers to impose upon the world, under the borrowed name of Evelyn."

[51] This sermon was preached for several years by Dr. Colin Milne, by whom it was published in 1799, and afterwards by the Rev. Mr. Ellis, of Merchant Taylors' School. Mr. Ellis, in his History of Shoreditch, gives us much information as to this bequest; in which the handsome conduct of Mr. Denne, a former vicar, is not the least interesting. Mr. Nichols, in vol. iii. of his Literary Anecdotes, bears testimony to Dr. Denne's feeling towards the poor and distressed, and to his attachment to literary pursuits. Three of these Sermons are in the second volume of "Thirty Sermons on Moral and Religious Subjects, by the Rev. W. Jones;" 2 vols. 8vo. 1790, price 16s. There are other editions of Mr. Jones's Sermons, viz. Rev. W. Jones, of Nayland, his Theological, Philosophical, and Miscellaneous Works, with Life, 12 vols. 8vo. neat, 7l. 7s. 6d. 1801. Sermons by the late Rev. William Jones, of Nayland, Suffolk: Chaplain to the Right Rev. George Horne, Bishop of Norwich; 1 vol. 8vo. with Portrait of the Author, price 12s. Dove, St. John's Square, Printer, 1828. "Of this faithful servant of God, (the Rev. W. Jones) I can speak both from personal knowledge and from his writings. He was a man of quick penetration, of extensive learning, and the soundest piety; and he had, beyond any other man I ever knew, the talent of writing upon the deepest subjects to the plainest understandings."—Bishop Horsley's Charges. The Rev. Samuel Ayscough, of the British Museum, began, in 1790, to preach this annual sermon, and, I believe, continued it for fourteen years.

[52] Mr. Ellis, of Little Gaddesden, in his Practical Farmer, 8vo. 1732, thus speaks on this subject:—"What a charming sight is a large tree in blossom, and after that, when loaden with fruit, enough perhaps to make a hogshead of cyder or perry! A scene of beauty, hopes, and profit, and all! It may be on less than two feet diameter of ground. And above all, what matter of contemplation does it afford, when we let our thoughts descend to a single kernel of an apple or pear? And again, how heightened, on the beholding so great a bulk raised and preserved, by Omnipotent Power, from so small a body."

[53] The thought of planting the sides of public roads, was first suggested by the great Sully.

[54] Mr. Weston, in his introduction to these Tracts, seems to have pleasure in recording the following anecdote of La Quintinye, from Harte's Essay. "The famous La Quintinie, director of the royal gardens in France, obtained from Louis XIV. an abbacy for his son, in one of the remote provinces; and going soon afterwards to make the abbot a visit, (who was not then settled in his apartments) he was entertained and lodged by a neighbouring gentleman with great friendliness and hospitality. La Quintinie, as was natural, soon examined the gardens of his host; he found the situation beautiful, and the soil excellent; but every thing was rude, savage, and neglected: nature had done much, art nothing. The guest, delighted with his friendly reception, took leave with regret, and some months after, sent one of the king's gardeners, and four under-gardeners, to the gentleman, with strict command to accept of no gratuity. They took possession of his little inclosure the moment they arrived, and having digged it many times over, they manured, replanted it, and left one of their number behind them, as a settled servant in the family. This young man was soon solicited to assist the neighbourhood, and filled their kitchen gardens and fruit gardens with the best productions of every kind, which are preserved and propagated to this very hour."

It is pleasing to enquire who Mons. de la Quintinye was. Perrault, in his Hommes Illustres, has given his Life, and Portrait. Dr. Gibson, in his Fruit Gardener, calls him "truly an original author;" and further pays him high compliments.

The Noveau Dict. Hist. thus speaks of him:—"Il vint a Paris se faire recevoir avocat. Une eloquence naturelle, cultivee avec soin, le fit briller dans le Barreau, et lui consila l'estime des premiers magistrais. Quoi qu'il eut peu de temps dont il put disposer, il en trouvoit neanmoins suffisament pour satisfaire la passion qu'il avoit pour l'agriculture. Il augmenta ses connoissances sur le jardinage, dans un voyage qu'il fit en Italie. De retour a Paris, il se livra tout entier a l'agriculture, et fit un grand nombre d'experiences curieuses et utiles. Le grand Prince de Conde, qui aimoit l'agriculture, prenoit une extreme plaisir a s'entretenir avec lui; et Charles II. Roi d'Angleterre lui offrit une pension considerable pour l'attacher a la culture de ses Jardins, mais il refusa ses offres avantageuses par l'amour qu'il avoit pour sa patrie, et trouva en France les recompenses due a son merite. On a de lui un excellent livre, intitule 'Instructions pour les Jardins Fruitiers et Potagers, Paris, 1725, 2 tom. 4to.' et plusieurs Lettres sur la meme matiere." Switzer, in his History of Gardening, says, that in Mons. de la Quintinye's "Two Voyages into England, he gained considerable friendship with several lords with whom he kept correspondence by letters till his death, and these letters, says Perrault, are all printed at London." And he afterwards says, speaking of Lord Capel's garden at Kew, "the greatest advance made by him herein, was the bringing over several sorts of fruits from France; and this noble lord we may suppose to be one that held for many years a correspondence with Mons. de la Quintinye." Such letters on such correspondence if ever printed, must be worth perusal.

[55] Lamoignon de Malherbes (that excellent man) had naturalized a vast number of foreign trees, and at the age of eighty-four, saw every where, in France, (as Duleuze observes) plants of his own introduction.

The old Earl of Tweedale, in the reign of Charles II. and his immediate successor, planted more than six thousand acres, in Scotland, with fir trees. In a Tour through Scotland, in 1753, it mentions, that "The county of Aberdeen is noted for its timber, having in it upwards of five millions of fir trees, besides vast numbers of other kinds, planted within these seventy years, by the gentry at and about their seats."

Mr. Marshall, in his "Planting and Rural Ornament," states, that "In 1792, his Grace the Duke of Athol (we speak from the highest authority) was possessed of a thousand larch trees, then growing on his estates of Dunkeld and Blair only, of not less than two to four tons of timber each; and had, at that time, a million larches, of different sizes, rising rapidly on his estate."

The zeal for planting in Scotland, of late years, has been stimulated by the writings of James Anderson, and Lord Kames.

It is pleasing to transcribe the following paragraph from a newspaper of the year 1819:—"Sir Watkin Williams Wynn has planted, within the last five years, on the mountainous lands in the vicinity of Llangollen, situated from 1200 to 1400 feet above the level of the sea, 80,000 oaks, 63,000 Spanish chesnuts, 102,000 spruce firs, 110,000 Scotch firs, 90,000 larches, 30,000 wych elms, 35,000 mountain elms, 80,000 ash, and 40,000 sycamores, all of which are, at this time, in a healthy and thriving condition." It is impossible, on this subject, to avoid paying a grateful respect to the memory of that bright ornament of our church, and literature, the late Dr. Watson, Bishop of Llandaff, whose extensive plantations, near Ambleside, have long since enriched that part. The late Richard Crawshay (surpassed by no being during the whole course of his very long life, for either integrity or generosity) assured the present writer, that during an early period of Dr. Watson's planting, he offered him, on the security of his note of hand only, and to be repaid at his own entire convenience, ten thousand pounds, and that he (with grateful thanks to Mr. Crawshay) refused it.

[56] How widely different has the liberal and classic mind of Dr. Alison viewed the rich pages of Mr. Whateley, in his deep and learned Essays on Taste, first published nearly twenty years after Mr. Whateley's decease. One regrets that there is no Portrait of Mr. Whateley. Of Dr. Alison, there is a masterly one by Sir Henry Raeburn, admirably engraved by W. Walker, of Edinburgh, in 1823. Perhaps it is one of the finest Portraits of the present day. One is happy to perceive marks of health expressed in his intellectually striking countenance.

[57] In Biographical Anecdotes, 3 vols. 8vo. appears a correspondence in London, with Dr. Franklin, and William Whateley, and Joseph Whateley, in 1774. This relates to a duel with Mr. Temple, by a brother of Thomas Whateley. In some of the Lives of Dr. Franklin, it appears, that inflammatory and ill-judged letters were written by George Hutchinson, and others, to Thomas Whateley, Esq. private Secretary to Lord Grenville, respecting some disturbances in America, concerning Lord Grenville's Stamp Act. On the death of Thomas, these letters were placed in the hands of Dr. Franklin, whose duty, as agent to the colony, caused him to transmit them to Boston. A quarrel arose between William Whateley and Mr. Temple, as to which of them gave up those letters, and a duel was fought. Dr. Franklin immediately cleared both those gentlemen from all imputation. Of the celebrated interview in the council chamber, between Mr. Wedderburn and Dr. Franklin, an account is given by Dr. Priestley, in vol. xv. page 1. of the Monthly Magazine, and which candid account entirely acquits Dr. Franklin from having deserved the rancorous political acrimony of Mr. Wedderburn, whose intemperate language is fully related in some of the Lives of Dr. Franklin, and in his Life, published and sold by G. Nicholson, Stourport, 12mo. price 9d. and which also includes Dr. Priestley's account.

Lord Chatham spoke of Franklin in the highest strain of panegyric, when adverting, in the year 1777, to his dissuasive arguments against the American war.

William Whateley was administrator of the goods and chattels of his brother Thomas, who, of course, died without a will.

In vol. ii. of Seward's Biog. Lit. and Political Tracts, the nineteenth chapter consists of his account of two Political Tracts, by Thomas Whateley, Esq. and he thus concludes this chapter:—"Mr. Whateley also wrote a tract on laying out pleasure grounds." In vol. iii. is an account of the quarrel and duel with Mr. Temple and one of the brothers. It appears that Thomas Whateley died in June, 1772, and left two brothers, William and Joseph. Thomas is called "Mr. Secretary Whately."

Debrett published "Scarce Tracts," in 4 vols. 8vo. In vol. i. is one called "The Budget," by D. Hartley, Esq. This same volume contains a reply to this, viz. "Remarks on the Budget, by Thomas Whateley, Esq. Secretary to the Treasury." There is also in vol. ii. another tract by Thomas Whateley, Esq. entitled "Considerations on the Trade and Finances of the Kingdom." These two pamphlets, upon subjects so very different from the alluring one on landscape gardening, and his unfinished one on Shakspeare, convinces us, what a powerful writer he would have been, had his life been longer spared.

[58] The reader will be amply gratified by perusing page 158 of the late Sir U. Price's well known Letter to Mr. Repton, as well as Mr. Morris's Observations on Water, as regards Ornamental Scenery; inserted in the Gardener's Magazine for May, 1827. Mr. Whateley's distinction between a river, a rivulet, and a rill, form, perhaps, five of the most seductive pages of his book. Our own Shakspeare's imagery on this subject, should not be overlooked:—

The current that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage; But when his fair course is not hindered, He makes sweet music with the enamelled stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage: And so by many winding nooks he strays With willing sport to the wild ocean.



[59] The benevolent mind of the marquis shines even in his concluding chapter; for he there wishes "to bring us back to a true taste for beautiful nature—to more humane and salutary regulations of the country—to produce the moral landscapes which delight the mind. His view of the good mother, seeing her children playing round her at their cottage, near the common, thus "endearing her home, and making even the air she breathed more delightful to her, make these sort of commons, to me, the most delightful of English gardens. The dwellings of the happy and peaceful husbandmen would soon rise up in the midst of compact farms. Can there exist a more delightful habitation for man, than a neat farm-house in the centre of a pleasing landscape? There avoiding disease and lassitude, useless expence, the waste of land in large and dismal parks, and above all, by preventing misery, and promoting happiness, we shall indeed have gained the prize of having united the agreeable with the useful. Perhaps, when every folly is exhausted, there will come a time, in which men will be so far enlightened as to prefer the real pleasures of nature to vanity and chimera."

[60] Perhaps it may gratify those who seek for health, by their attachment to gardens, to note the age that some of our English horticulturists have attained to:—Parkinson died at about 78; Tradescant, the father, died an old man; Switzer, about 80; Sir Thomas Browne died at 77; Evelyn, at 86; Dr. Beale, at 80; Jacob Bobart, at 85; Collinson, at 75; a son of Dr. Lawrence (equally fond of gardens as his father) at 86; Bishop Compton, at 81; Bridgman, at an advanced age; Knowlton, gardener to Lord Burlington, at 90; Miller, at 80; James Lee, at an advanced age; Lord Kames, at 86; Abercrombie, at 80; the Rev. Mr. Gilpin, at 80; Duncan, a gardener, upwards of 90; Hunter, who published Sylva, at 86; Speechley, at 86; Horace Walpole, at 80; Mr. Bates, the celebrated and ancient horticulturist of High Wickham, who died there in December, 1819, at the great age of 89; Marshall, at an advanced age; Sir Jos. Banks, at 77; Joseph Cradock, at 85; James Dickson, at 89; Dr. Andrew Duncan, at 83; and Sir U. Price, at 83. Mr. Loudon, at page 1063 of his Encyclop. inform us, that a market garden, and nursery, near Parson's Green, had been, for upwards of two centuries, occupied by a family of the name of Rench; that one of them (who instituted the first annual exhibition of flowers) died at the age of ninety-nine years, having had thirty-three children; and that his son (mentioned by Collinson, as famous for forest trees) introduced the moss-rose, planted the elm trees now growing in the Bird-cage Walk, St. James's Park, from trees reared in his own nursery, married two wives, had thirty-five children, and died in 1783, in the same room in which he was born, at the age of a hundred and one years. Reflecting on the great age of some of the above, reminds me of what a "Journal Encyclopedique" said of Lestiboudois, another horticulturist and botanist, who died at Lille, at the age of ninety, and who (for even almost in our ashes live their wonted fires) gave lectures in the very last year of his life. "When he had (says an ancient friend of his) but few hours more to live, he ordered snow-drops, violets, and crocuses, to be brought to his bed, and compared them with the figures in Tournefort. His whole existence had been consecrated to the good of the public, and to the alleviation of misery; thus he looked forward to his dissolution with a tranquillity of soul that can only result from a life of rectitude; he never acquired a fortune; and left no other inheritance to his children, but integrity and virtue."

[61] About eighty years previous to Hyll's Treatise on Bees, Rucellai, an Italian of distinction, who aspired to a cardinal's hat, and who laboured with zeal and taste (I am copying from De Sismondi's View of the Literature of the South of Europe) to render Italian poetry classical, or a pure imitation of the ancients, published his most celebrated poem on Bees. "It receives (says De Sismondi) a particular interest from the real fondness which Rucellai seems to have entertained for these creatures. There is something so sincere in his respect for their virgin purity, and in his admiration of the order of their government, that he inspires us with real interest for them. All his descriptions are full of life and truth."

[62] Ben Jonson, in his Discourses, gives the following eulogy on this illustrious author:—"No member of his speech but consisted of his own graces. His hearers could not cough or look aside from him without loss. He commanded where he spoke, and had his judges angry and pleased at his devotion: no man had their affections more in his power; the fear of every man that heard him was, lest he should make an end." Mr. Loudon, when treating on the study of plants, observes, that "This wonderful philosopher explored and developed the true foundations of human knowledge, with a sagacity and penetration unparalleled in the history of mankind." What Clement VIII. applied to the eight books of Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, may well apply to the writings of Bacon:—"there is no learning that this man hath not searched into. His books will get reverence by age, for there is in them such seeds of eternity, that they will continue till the last fire shall devour all learning." Monsieur Thomas, in his Eulogy of Descartes, says, "Bacon explored every path of human knowledge, he sat in judgment on past ages, and anticipated those that were to come." The reader will be gratified by inspecting the second volume of Mr. Malone's publication of Aubrey's Letters, in the Bodleian Library, as well as the richly decorated and entertaining Beauties of England and Wales, and Pennant's Tour from Chester to London, for some curious notices of the ancient mansion, garden, and orchard, at Gorhambury.

[63] The reader will be amply gratified by Mr. Johnson's review of the general state of horticulture at this period, in his History of English Gardening, and with the zeal with which he records the attachment of James I. and Charles, to this science; and where, in a subsequent chapter, he glances on the progress of our Botany, and proudly twines round the brows of the modest, but immortal, Ray, a most deserved and generous wreath.

[64] I subjoin a few extracts from the first book of his English Husbandman, 4to. 1635:—"A garden is so profitable, necessary, and such an ornament and grace to every house and housekeeper, that the dwelling-place is lame and maimed if it want that goodly limbe, and beauty. I do not wonder either at the worke of art, or nature, when I behold in a goodly, rich and fertill soyle, a garden adorned with all the delights and delicacies which are within man's understanding, because the naturall goodnesse of the earth (which not enduring to bee idle) will bring forth whatsoever is cast into her; but when I behold upon a barren, dry, and dejected earth, such as the Peake-hills, where a man may behold snow all summer, or on the East-mores, whose best herbage is nothing but mosse, and iron-stone, in such a place, I say, to behold a delicate, rich, and fruitful garden, it shewes great worthinesse in the owner, and infinite art and industry in the workeman, and makes mee both admire and love the begetters of such excellencies."

And again,—"For the situation of the garden-plot for pleasure, you shall understand, that it must ever bee placed so neare unto the dwelling-house as it is possible, both because the eye of the owner may be a guard and support from inconveniences, as all that the especial roomes and prospects of the house may be adorned, perfumed, and inriched with the delicate proportions, odoriferous smells, and wholesome airs which shall ascend and vaporate from the same."

He then gives a variety of cuts of knots and mazes, and labyrinths, of which he observes, that "many other adornations and beautifyings there are, which belong to the setting forth of a curious garden, but for as much as none are more rare or more esteemed than these I have set down, being the best ornaments of the best gardens of this kingdome, I think them tastes sufficient for every husbandman or other of better quality, which delighteth in the beauty, and well trimming of his ground." He thus remarks:—"as in the composition of a delicate woman, the grace of her cheeke is the mixture of red and white, the wonder of her eye blacke and white, and the beauty of her hand blew and white, any of which is not said to be beautifull if it consist of single or simple colours; and so in these walkes or alleyes the all greene, nor the all yellow cannot be said to bee most beautifull, but the greene and yellow, (that is to say, the untroade grasse, and the well knit gravell) being equally mixt, give the eye both luster and delight beyond all comparison."

His description of the following flower is singular: "The Crowne Emperiall, is, of all flowers, both forraigne and home-bred, the delicatest, and strangest: it hath the true shape of an imperiall crowne, and will be of divers colours, according to the art of the gardener. In the middest of the flower you shall see a round pearle stand, in proportion, colour, and orientnesse, like a true naturall pearle, only it is of a soft liquid substance: this pearle, if you shake the flower never so violently, will not fall off, neyther if you let it continue never so long, will it eyther encrease or diminish in the bignesse, but remaineth all one: yet if with your finger you take and wipe it away, in less than an hour after you shall have another arise in the same place, and of the same bignesse. This pearle, if you taste it upon your tongue, is pleasant, and sweet like honey: this flower when the sunne ariseth, you shall see it looke directly to the east, with the stalk bent lowe thereunto, and as the sunne ariseth higher and higher, so the flower will likewise ascend, and when the sunne is come into the meridian or noone poynt, which is directly over it, then will it stand upright upon the stalke, and looke directly upward, and as the sunne declineth, so will it likewise decline, and at the sunne setting looke directly to the west only."

His mention of another flower is attractive:—"Now for your Wall Gilliflower, it delighteth in hard rubbish, limy, and stony grounds, whence it commeth they covet most to grow upon walls, pavements, and such like barraine places. It may be sowen in any moneth or season, for it is a seed of that hardness, that it makes no difference betwixt winter and summer, but will flourish in both equally, and beareth his flowers all the yeere, whence it comes that the husbandman preserves it most in his bee-garden, for it is wondrous sweet, and affordeth much honey. It would be sowen in very small quantity, for after it hath once taken roote, it will naturally of itself overspread much ground, and hardly ever after be rooted out. It is of itselfe of so exceeding a strong, and sweet smell, that it cannot be forced to take any other, and therefore is ever preserved in its owne nature."

[65] Mr. Loudon, in his Encycl. of Gardening, fondly reviews the taste for flowers which pervaded most ranks during the time of Elizabeth, and Evelyn.

The Spectacle de la Nature, of which we have a translation in 1740, has a richly diffuse chapter on flowers. I here transcribe a small part thereof:—

Prior. "The beauty of flowers never fails to inspire us with joy; and when we have sufficiently examined the fairest, we are sensible they are only proper to refresh the sight; and, indeed, the prospect they afford is so touching, and we experience their power to be so effectual, that the generality of those arts which are ambitious to please, seem most successful when they borrow their assistance. Sculpture imitates them in its softest ornaments; architecture bestows the embellishments of leaves and festoons on those columns and fronts, which would otherwise be too naked. The richest embroideries are little more than foliage and flowers; the most magnificent silks are almost covered with these charming forms, and are thought beautiful, in proportion as they resemble the lively tinge of natural flowers.

"These have always been the symbols, or representations of joy; they were formerly the inseparable ornaments of feasts, and are still introduced with applause, toward the close of our entertainments, when they are brought in with the fruit, to enliven the festival that begins to languish. And they are so peculiarly adapted to scenes of pleasure, that they are always considered as inconsistent with mourning. Decency, informed by nature, never admits them into those places where tears and affliction are predominant.

Countess. "The festivals in the country are never celebrated without garlands, and the entertainments of the polite are ushered in by a flower. If the winter denies them that gratification, they have recourse to art. A young bride, in all the magnificence of her nuptial array, would imagine she wanted a necessary part of her ornaments, if she did not improve them with a sprig of flowers. A queen, amidst the greatest solemnities, though she is covered with the jewels of the crown, has an inclination to this rural ornament; she is not satisfied with mere grandeur and majesty, but is desirous of assuming an air of softness and gaiety, by the mediation of flowers.

Prior. "Religion itself, with all its simplicity and abstraction, and amidst the abhorrence it professes to theatrical pomp, which rather tends to dissipate the heart, than to inspire it with a due reverence for sacred mysteries, and a sensibility of human wants, permits some of its festivals to be celebrated with boughs, and chaplets of flowers."

[66] In his Diary is the following entry:—"1658, 27 Jan. After six fits of an ague, died my son Richard, five years and three days old onely, but, at that tender age, a prodigy for witt and understanding; for beauty of body, a very angel; for endowment of mind, of incredible and rare hopes. He was all life, all prettinesse. What shall I say of his frequent pathetical ejaculations uttered of himselfe: Sweete Jesus, save me, deliver me, pardon my sins, let thine angels receive me! So early knowledge, so much piety and perfection! Such a child I never saw! for such a child I blesse God in whose bosome he is!"

Nanteuil's portrait is prefixed to his Sylva, 1664; and a fine copy of the same, by Bartolozzi, is prefixed to Hunter's Sylva. Worlidge engraved a fine portrait of him, prefixed to his Sculptura. Gaywood engraved his portrait for the translation of Lucretius. In Walpole's Anecdotes is his portrait, by Bannerman.

[67] In "A Picturesque Promenade round Dorking," are selected many interesting particulars of Mr. Evelyn.

[68] Essex lost his head for having said that Elizabeth grew old and cankered, and that her mind was as crooked as her carcase. Perhaps the beauty of Mary galled Elizabeth.

The Quarterly Review of July, 1828, thus remarks:—"When Elizabeth's wrinkles waxed many, it is reported that an unfortunate master of the Mint incurred disgrace, by a too faithful shilling; the die was broken, and only one mutilated impression is now in existence. Her maids of honour took the hint, and were thenceforth careful that no fragment of a looking glass should remain in any room of the palace. In fact, the lion-hearted lady had not heart to look herself in the face for the last twenty years of her life."

It seems that Elizabeth was fond of executions. She loved Essex, of all men, best; and yet the same axe which murdered Anne Bulleyn, was used to revenge herself on him. The bloody task took three strokes, which so enraged the multitude, (who loved Essex) that they would have torn the executioner to pieces, had not the soldiers prevented them. Mr. Hutton, in his "Journey to London," observes, that "their vengeance ought to have been directed against the person who caused him to use it." What her reflections were on these two bloody acts when on her death-bed, we scarcely know. A modern writer on horticulture, nearly concludes a very pleasing work, by enumerating (with slight historical notices) the several plants cultivated in our gardens. He thus concludes his account of one:—"Queen Elizabeth, in her last illness, eat little but Succory Pottage." Mr. Loudon says it is used "as a fodder for cattle." The French call it Chicoree sauvage. Her taste must have been something like her heart. Poor Mary eat no supper the night previous to her last illness. Had it been possible for Elizabeth to have read those pages of Robertson, which paint the long succession of calamities which befel Mary, and the insolence and brutality she received from Darnley, and which so eloquently plead for her frailties, perhaps even these pages would not have softened her bloody disposition, which she seems to have inherited from that insolent monster, her father. "Mary's sufferings (says this enchanting historian) exceed, both in degree and duration, those tragical distresses which fancy has feigned, to excite sorrow and commiseration; and while we survey them, we are apt altogether to forget her frailties; we think of her faults with less indignation, and approve of our tears as if they were shed for a person who had attained much nearer to pure virtue. With regard to the queen's person, all contemporary authors agree in ascribing to Mary the utmost beauty of countenance, and elegance of shape, of which the human form is capable. Her hair was black, though, according to the fashion of that age, she frequently borrowed locks, and of different colours. Her eyes were a dark grey; her complexion was exquisitely fine, and her hands and arms remarkably delicate, both as to shape and colour. Her stature was of an height that rose to the majestic. She danced, she walked, and she rode with equal grace. She sung, and played upon the lute with uncommon skill."

[69] I will merely give this brief extract as one out of many of great force and beauty, from his Salmonia:—"If we look with wonder upon the great remains of human works, such as the columns of Palmyra, broken in the midst of the desert, the temples of Paestum, beautiful in the decay of twenty centuries, or the mutilated fragments of Greek sculpture in the Acropolis of Athens, or in our own Museum, as proofs of the genius of artists, and power and riches of nations now past away, with how much deeper feeling of admiration must we consider those grand monuments of nature, which mark the revolutions of the globe; continents broken into islands; one land produced, another destroyed; the bottom of the ocean become a fertile soil; whole races of animals extinct; and the bones and exuviae of one class covered with the remains of another, and upon the graves of past generations—the marble or rocky tomb, as it were, of a former animated world—new generations rising, and order and harmony established, and a system of life and beauty produced, as it were, out of chaos and death; proving the infinite power, wisdom, and goodness, of the GREAT CAUSE OF ALL BEING!" I must trespass on my reader, by again quoting from Salmonia:—"I envy no quality of the mind or intellect in others; not genius, power, wit, or fancy; but if I could choose what would be most delightful, and I believe most useful to me, I should prefer a firm religious belief to every other blessing; for it makes life a discipline of goodness—creates new hopes, when all earthly hopes vanish; and throws over the decay, the destruction of existence, the most gorgeous of lights; awakens life even in death, and from corruption and decay calls up beauty and divinity: makes an instrument of torture and of shame the ladder of ascent to Paradise; and, far above all combinations of earthly hopes, calls up the most delightful visions of palms and amaranths, the gardens of the blest, the security of everlasting joys, where the sensualist and the sceptic view only gloom, decay, annihilation, and despair!"

[70] In this delightful essay, he says, "the most exquisite delights of sense are pursued, in the contrivance and plantation of gardens, which, with fruits, flowers, shades, fountains, and the music of birds that frequent such happy places, seem to furnish all the pleasures of the several senses."

[71] Mr. Johnson, in his History of English Gardening, admirably confirms this conflagration argument, by quoting the opinion or testimony of the celebrated Goethe.

[72] To this interesting subject is devoted, a part of Mr. Loudon's concise and luminous review "Of the Rise, Progress, and Present State of Gardening in the British Isles;" being chapter iv. of his Encyclopaedia.

[73] Perhaps there are few pages that more awfully paint the sacredness of this spot, than page 36 in the fifth edition of Dr. Alison's Essays on Taste.

[74] I do not mean to apply to the hospitable table of this reverend gentleman, the lines of Peter Pindar:—

One cut from venison, to the heart can speak, Stronger than ten quotations from the Greek.



[75] I cannot prevent myself from quoting a very small portion of the animated address of another clergyman, the Rev. J. G. Morris, as chairman to the Wakefield Horticultural Society. I am certain each one of my readers will blame me for not having inserted the whole of this eloquent appeal. I copy it from the Gardener's Magazine for August, 1828:—"Conscious that I possessed no qualifications to fit me for the task, and feeling that it ill became me to assume it, as I am as yet nearly a stranger amongst you; aware, too, that I should be surrounded by individuals so much more eligible, inasmuch as they are eminently gifted with botanical science and practical knowledge, the result of their horticultural pursuits and facilities, of which I am quite devoid; I wished and begged to decline the proffered honour. It appears, however, that my entreaties are not listened to, and that your kindness and partiality persist in selecting for your chairman one so inadequate to the situation. Gentlemen, I take the chair with much diffidence; but I will presume to say, that, in the absence of other qualities, I bring with me a passionate love for plants and flowers, for the sweets and beauties of the garden, and no inconsiderable fondness for its more substantial productions. Gardening, as a recreation and relaxation from severer studies and more important avocations, has exquisite charms for me; and I am ready, with old Gerarde, to confess, that 'the principal delight is in the mind, singularly enriched with the knowledge of these visible things; setting forth to us the invisible wisdom and admirable workmanship of Almighty God.' With such predilections, you will easily give me credit, gentlemen, for participating with this assembly in the sincerest wishes for the complete and permanent establishment of a society amongst us, whose object shall be to promote, in the surrounding district, the introduction of different sorts of flowers, culinary vegetables, fruits, improved culture and management generally, and a taste for botany as a science. These are pursuits, gentlemen, combining at once health and innocence, pleasure and utility. Wakefield and its vicinity appear to possess facilities for the accomplishment of such a project, inferior to no district within this great palatinate, indeed, little inferior to any in the kingdom. The country is beautiful and charmingly varied, and, from the diversity of soil, suited to varied productions; the whole thickly interspersed with seats and villas of persons of opulence, possessing their conservatories, hot-houses, and stoves, their orchards, flower and kitchen gardens: whilst few towns can boast (as Wakefield can) of so many gardens within its enclosure, cultivated with so much assiduity and skill, so much taste and deserved success. Seven years ago, I had the honour to originate a similar project in Preston, in Lancashire, and with the happiest success. In that borough, possessing far less advantages than Wakefield offers, a horticultural society was established, which, in its four annual meetings, assembles all the rank and fashion of a circuit of more than ten miles, and numbers more than a hundred and twenty subscribers to its funds. Those who have not witnessed the interesting sight, can form but a faint idea of the animating scene which is presented in a spacious and handsome room, tastefully adorned with the choicest exotics from various conservatories, and the more choice, because selected with a view to competition: decorated with the varied beauties of the parterre, vieing with each other in fragrance, hue, and delicacy of texture; whilst the tables groan under the weight of delicious fruits and rare vegetables in endless variety, the joint produce of hot-houses, stoves, orchards, and kitchen gardens. Figure to yourselves, gentlemen, this elysium, graced by some hundreds of our fair countrywomen, an absolute galaxy of animated beauty, and that music lends its aid, and you will agree with me that a more fascinating treat could hardly be devised. New flowers, new fruits, recent varieties of those of long standing and established character for excellence, are thus introduced, in lieu of those whose inferiority is no longer doubtful. New culinary vegetables, or, from superior treatment or mode of culture, rendered more salubrious and of exquisite flavour, will load the stalls of our market-gardeners. I call upon you, then, gentlemen, for your zealous support. Say not that you have no gardens, or that your gardens are inconsiderable, or that you are no cultivators; you are all interested in having good and delicious fruits, nutritious and delicate culinary vegetables, and in procuring them at a reasonable rate, which will be the results of improved and successful cultivation. At our various exhibitions, let each contribute that in which he excels, and our object will be attained. Gentlemen, I fear I have trespassed too long on your patience and indulgence. I will just urge one more motive for your warm support of our intended society; it is this: that, by diffusing a love of plants and gardening, you will materially contribute to the comfort and happiness of the laborious classes; for the pleasure taken in such pursuits forms an unexceptionable relaxation from the toils of business, and every hour thus spent is subtracted from the ale-house and other haunts of idleness and dissipation."

[76] In the grounds of Hagley, were once inscribed these lines:—

Here Pope!—ah, never must that tow'ring mind To his loved haunts, or dearer friend return; What art, what friendships! oh! what fame resign'd: In yonder glade I trace his mournful urn.



[77] At Holm-Lacey is preserved a sketch, in crayons, by Pope, (when on a visit there) of Lord Strafford by Vandyke. It is well known that Pope painted Betterton in oil colours, and gave it to Lord Mansfield. The noble lord regretted the loss of this memorial, when his house was consumed at the time of the disgraceful and ignorant riots.

[78] Sir Joshua Reynolds used to tell the following anecdote relative to Pope.—"When Reynolds was a young man, he was present at an auction of very scarce pictures, which attracted a great crowd of connoisseurs and others; when, in the moment of a very interesting piece being put up, Mr. Pope entered the room. All was in an instant, from a scene of confusion and bustle, a dead calm. The auctioneer, as if by instinct, suspended his hammer. The audience, to an individual, as if by the same impulse, rose up to receive the poet; and did not resume their seats till he had reached the upper end of the room."

A similar honour was paid to the Abbe Raynal, whose reputation was such, that the Speaker of the House of Commons observing him among the spectators, suspended the business of the house till he had seen the eloquent historian placed in a more commodious seat. It is painful to relate, that this powerful writer, and good man, who narrowly escaped the guillotine, expired in a garret, in extreme poverty, at the age of eighty-four; the only property he left being one assignat of fifty livres, worth not threepence in ready money. Perhaps one might have applied the following anecdote (told by Dr. Drake in his Literary Hours) to Abbe Raynal:—"A respectable character, having long figured in the gay world at Paris, was at length compelled to live in an obscure retreat in that city, the victim of severe misfortunes. He was so indigent, that he subsisted only on an allowance from the parish. Every week bread was sent to him sufficient for his support, and yet at length, he demanded more. On this the curate sent for him. 'Do you live alone?' said the curate. 'With whom, sir, is it possible I should live? I am wretched, since I thus solicit charity, and am abandoned by all the world.' 'But, sir, if you live alone, why do you ask for more bread than is sufficient for yourself?' The other at last, with great reluctance, confessed that he had a dog. The curate desired him to observe, that he was only the distributor of the bread that belonged to the poor, and that it was absolutely necessary that he should dispose of his dog. 'Ah, sir!' exclaimed the poor man, weeping, 'and if I lose my dog, who is there then to love me?' The good pastor took his purse, and giving it to him, 'take this, sir,' said he; 'this is mine—this I can give.'"

[79] How applicable are Gray's lines to Lord Byron himself, now!

Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of death? Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire!—



[80] Mr. Bowles, in some stanzas written since the death of Byron, thus feelingly apostrophizes his noble spirit:—

But I will bid th' Arcadian cypress wave, Pluck the green laurel from Peneus' side, And pray thy spirit may such quiet have That not one thought unkind be murmur'd o'er thy grave.



[81] Perhaps one motive (no doubt there were numberless others) that might have induced Mr. Mason thus to honour the memory of Pope,

——letting cold tears bedew his silver urn,

might have been from the recollection of his attachment to what equally charmed Mr. Mason—the love of gardens.

[82] I know not whether Milton's portrait should have been here noticed. In a note to the eloquent, the talented, and graceful "Discours d'Installation, prononce par M. le Vicomte H. de Thury, president de la Societe d'Horticulture de Paris," it is beautifully observed, that "Personne n'a mieux decrit ce delicieux jardin que Milton. Les Anglais regardent comme le type de tous les jardins paysagers, et pittoresques, la description que fait Milton du jardin d'Eden, et qui atteste que se sublime genie etoit egalement poete, peintre et paysagiste." As I have sought for the portraits of Mr. George Mason, and of Mr. Whateley, and have noticed those of Launcelot Brown, and Mr. Walpole, Mr. Cradock, M. R. P. Knight and Sir U. Price, who were all paysagists; surely our great and severe republican was one.

The Prince de Ligne speaks thus of Milton:—"les vers enchanteurs de ce Roi des poetes, et des jardiniers.

I do not know that every one will agree with Switzer in the concluding part of what he says of Milton, in the History of Gardening, prefixed to his Iconologia:—"But although things were in this terrible combustion, we must not omit the famous Mr. John Milton, one of Cromwell's Secretaries; who, by his excellent and never-to-be-equalled poem of Paradise Lost, has particularly distinguished gardening, by taking that for his theme; and shows, that though his eyes deprived him of the benefit of seeing, yet his mind was wonderfully moved with the philosophy, innocence, and beauty of this employ; his books, though mixed with other subjects, being a kind of a philosophical body of gardening, as well as divinity. Happy man! had his pen been employed on no other subject."

It must be needless reminding my reader, that Mr. Walpole's powerful pen has taken care that our mighty poet, (who "on evil days, though fallen, and with darkness and solitude compassed round,") shall not be defrauded of half his glory.

It is gratifying to remark, that an edition of Paradise Lost is now announced for publication, in which the zeal of its spirited proprietors has determined, that every word shall be printed in letters of gold. The sanction of some of our most distinguished divines, and men of high rank, evince the pride with which we all acknowledge the devout zeal and mighty powers of the blind poet.

[83] Mr. Garrick's fondness for ornamental gardening, induced him finely to catch at this invention, in his inimitable performance of Lord Chalkstone.

[84] Dr. Pulteney relates this anecdote of Mr. Miller: "He was the only person I ever knew who remembered to have seen Mr. Ray. I shall not easily forget the pleasure that enlightened his countenance, it so strongly expressed the Virgilium tantum vidi, when, in speaking of that revered man, he related to me that incident of his youth." I regret that Mr. Ray only meditated a work to have been entitled Horti Angliae. Had he written it, I should have felt a singular pride in introducing his valued name in the present imperfect volume.

[85] The generous minded reader will be gratified by referring to the kind tribute, paid to the memory of Shenstone, by Mr. Loudon, at p. 76 of his Encyclopaedia. Of this Encyclopaedia, Mr. Johnson, in his History of Gardening, thus speaks:—"Taken as a whole, it is the most complete book of gardening ever published;"—and that, with the exception of chymistry, "every art and science, at all illustrative of gardening, are made to contribute their assistance."

[86] In his "Unconnected Thoughts" he admires the Oak, for "its majestic appearance, the rough grandeur of its bark, and the wide protection of its branches: a large, branching, aged oak, is, perhaps, the most venerable of all inanimate objects."

[87] Tea was the favourite beverage of Dr. Johnson. When Hanway pronounced his anathema against it, Johnson rose in defence of it, declaring himself "in that article a hardened sinner, having for years diluted my meals with the infusion of that fascinating plant; my tea-kettle has had no time to cool; with tea I have solaced the midnight hour, and with tea welcomed the morning." Mr. Pennant was a great lover of tea; a hardy honest Welch parson, on hearing that he usually retired in the afternoon to his summer-house to enjoy that beverage, was moved with indignation, that any thing weaker than ale or wine should be drunk there; and calling to mind the good hunting times of old, passionately exclaimed, "his father would have scorned it."

[88] Sir Uvedale thus expresses his own sensations when viewing some of these plantations:—"The inside fully answers to the dreary appearance of the outside; of all dismal scenes it seems to me the most likely for a man to hang himself in; he would, however, find some difficulty in the execution, for amidst the endless multitude of stems, there is rarely a single side branch to which a rope could be fastened. The whole wood is a collection of tall naked poles.... Even its gloom is without solemnity; it is only dull and dismal; and what light there is, like that of hell,

Serves only to discover scenes of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades."



[89] This observation confirms what Sir U. Price so pointedly enforces throughout the whole of his causticly sportive letter to Mr. Repton: "that the best landscape painters would be the best landscape gardeners, were they to turn their minds to the practical part; consequently, a study of their works, the most useful study to an improver."—And that "Van Huysum would be a much better judge of the merits and defects of the most dressed scene—of a mere flower garden,—than a gardener."

[90] Mr. Browne was not an author; yet the title of the present volume is "On the Portraits of English Authors on Gardening." Neither was old Bridgman nor Kent authors on this subject; still I could not prevail on myself to pass over such names in total silence.

[91] Mr. Clive resided at Moreton-Say, near Market-Drayton. He was a prebend of Westminster. Integrity marked every action of his life. In his village, scarcely a poor man existed. His kindness and benevolence to the poor, could only be equalled by his friendly hospitality and kind feeling to the more affluent in his neighbourhood:

Thy works, and alms, and all thy good endeavour, Follow thee up to joy and bliss for ever.

Miss Seward thus concludes one of her letters to him:—"I wish none were permitted to enter the lists of criticism but those who feel poetic beauty as keenly as yourself, and who have the same generous desire that others should feel it." I mention Mr. Clive with gratitude, from a recollection of kindnesses received from him at a very early period of my life, and which were of such a nature, as could not fail to animate the mind of a young man to studious exertions. Archdeacon Plimley (now the truly venerable Archdeacon Corbet, and who has been so long an honour to his native county), in his Agricultural Survey of Shropshire, respectfully introduces Mr. Clive's name; and when he addressed his charge to the diocese of Hereford, in 1793, one really cannot but apply to Mr. Clive, what he so eloquently enforces in that charge to each clergyman:—"to cultivate a pure spirit within their own bosoms; to be in every instance the right-hand neighbour to each parishioner; their private adviser, their public monitor, their example in christian conduct, their joy in health, their consolation in sickness." In the same vault with Mr. Archdeacon Clive, lies buried Robert Lord Clive, conqueror of Plassy: on whose death appeared these extempore lines, by a man of distinction, a friend to Lord Clive:—

Life's a surface, slippery, glassy, Whereon tumbled Clive of Plassy; All the wealth the east could give, Brib'd not death to let him live: There's no distinction in the grave 'Twixt the nabob and the slave.

His lordship's death, in 1774, was owing to the same cause which hastened that of the most worthy of men, Sir Samuel Romilly—from shattered and worn out nerves;—from severe study in the latter, and from the burning climate of the east in the former. Had Lord Clive lived a few years longer, he would have enriched the whole neighbourhood round his native spot. His vigorous, ardently-gifted, and penetrating mind, projected plantations and other improvements, that could only have been conceived by such minds as Olivier de Serres, or by Sully, or by our own Evelyn. He was in private life beloved. He was generous, social and friendly; and if ever charity to the poor warmed the breast of any mortal, it warmed that of Lord Clive. Few men had more kind affections than Lord Clive.

[92] The following passage from a favourite book of Dr. Darwin's, (the System of Nature, by Linnaeus) will well apply to that searching and penetrating mind, which so strongly possessed him through life.—"How small a part of the great works of nature is laid open to our eyes, and how many things are going on in secret which we know nothing of! How many things are there which this age first was acquainted with! How many things that we are ignorant of will come to light when all memory of us shall be no more! for nature does not at once reveal all her secrets. We are apt to look on ourselves as already admitted into the sanctuary of her temple; we are still only in the porch." How full of grace, of tenderness, and passion, is that elegy, which he composed the night he feared a life he so passionately loved (Mrs. Pole, of Radburn,) was in imminent danger, and when he dreamed she was dead:

Stretch'd on her sable bier, the grave beside, A snow-white shroud her breathless bosom bound, O'er her white brow the mimic lace was tied, And loves, and virtues, hung their garlands round.

From these cold lips did softest accents flow? Round that pale mouth did sweetest dimples play? On this dull cheek the rose of beauty blow, And those dim eyes diffuse celestial rays?

Did this cold hand unasking want relieve, Or wake the lyre to every rapturous sound? How sad, for other's woes, this breast could heave! How light this heart, for other's transport, bound!



[93] It was at this period of his residence at Lichfield, that the present writer heard him strongly enforce the cultivation of papaver somniferum. What he may have also enforced to others, may possibly have given rise to some of those ingenious papers on its cultivation, which are inserted not only in the Transactions of the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce; in other publications, but in the first and fifth volumes of the Memoirs of the Caledonian Horticultural Society. The papers of Mr. Ball and Mr. Jones, on its cultivation, in the former of these transactions, are particularly diffuse and valuable. They are fully noticed in Dr. Thornton's "Family Herbal." The subjoined plate is a copy of that in the title page to "Opiologia, ou traicte concernant le naturel proprietes, vraye preparation, et seur vsage de l'opium," a favourite volume with Dr. Darwin, printed at la Haye, 1614, 12mo. Dr. Darwin, in his Botanical Garden, thus speaks of opium: "the finest opium is procured by wounding the heads of large poppies with a three-edged knife, and tying muscle-shells to them, to catch the drops. In small quantities it exhilirates the mind, raises the passions, and invigorates the body; in large ones, it is succeeded by intoxication, languor, stupor, and death."

[94] Sterne mentions a traveller who always set out with the spleen and jaundice,—"without one generous connection, or pleasurable anecdote to tell of,—travelling straight on, looking neither to his right hand or his left, lest love or pity should seduce him out of the road." Mr. Loudon seems to be a very different kind of a traveller: for his horticultural spirit and benevolent views, pervade almost every page of his late tour through Bavaria. One envies his feelings, too, in another rural excursion, through the romantic scenery of Bury, at Mr. Barclay's, and of Mr. Hope's at Deepdene; and particularly when he paints his own emotions on viewing the room of sculpture there. He even could not, in October last, take his rural ride from Edgware to St. Alban's without thus awakening in each traveller a love of gardens, and giving this gentle hint to an honest landlord:—"A new inn, in the outskirts of St. Alban's, in the Dunstable road, has an ample garden, not made the most of. Such a piece of ground, and a gardener of taste, would give an inn, so situated, so great a superiority, that every one would be tempted to stop there; but the garden of this Boniface, exhibits but the beginning of a good idea." When travelling along our English roads, his mind no doubt frequently reverts to those road-side gardens in the Netherlands, which he thus happily adverts to in p. 32 of his Encyclopaedia: "The gardens of the cottagers in these countries, are undoubtedly better managed and more productive than those of any other country; no man who has a cottage is without a garden attached; often small, but rendered useful to a poor family, by the high degree of culture given to it." Linnaeus, in his eloquent oration at Upsal, enforces the pleasure of travelling in one's own country, through its fields and roads. Mr. Heath, the zealous and affectionate historian of Monmouth, in his account of that town and its romantic neighbourhood, (published in 1804,) omits no opportunity of noticing the many neat gardens, which add to the other rural charms of its rich scenery, thus mentions another Boniface:—"The late Thomas Moxley, who kept the public-house at Manson Cross, was a person that took great delight in fruit-trees, and had a large piece of ground let him, for the purpose of planting it with apple-trees; but his death (which followed soon after) prevented the plan from being carried to the extent he intended, though some of the land bears evidence of his zeal and labour." Mr. Heath cannot even travel on the turnpike road, from Monmouth to Hereford, without benevolently remarking, that "a number of laborious families have erected small tenements, with a garden to each, most of which are thickly planted with apple-trees, whose produce considerably adds to the owner's support."

[95] Of this celebrated biographer of Dr. Darwin (whose Verses to the Memory of Mr. Garrick, and whose Monody on Captain Cook, will live as long as our language is spoken,) Sir W. Scott thus describes his first personal interview with:—"Miss Seward, when young, must have been exquisitely beautiful; for, in advanced age, the regularity of her features, the fire and expression of her countenance, gave her the appearance of beauty, and almost of youth. Her eyes were auburn, of the precise shade and hue of her hair, and possessed great expression. In reciting, or in speaking with animation, they appeared to become darker; and, as it were, to flash fire. I should have hesitated to state the impression which this peculiarity made upon me at the time, had not my observation been confirmed by that of the first actress of this or any other age, with whom I lately happened to converse on our deceased friend's expressive powers of countenance."

[96] From one of these pleasing sermons I extract these few lines:—"Among the most pleasing sights of a country village, is that of a father and mother, followed by their family of different ages, issuing from their little dwelling on a Sunday morning, as the bell tolls to church. The children, with their ruddy, wholesome looks, are all neat and clean. Their behaviour at church shews what an impression their parents have given them of the holiness of the place, and of the duties they have to perform. Though unregarded, as they return home, by their richer neighbours, they carry back with them to their humble cottage the blessing of God.—Pious parents! lead on your children from church to heaven. You are in the right road. Your heavenly father sees your hearts."

[97] Mr. Cradock published in 8vo. in 1777, price 2s. 6d. an account of some of the most remarkable places in North Wales.

[98] Mons. de Voltaire was so charmed with the taste and talents, and polite engaging manners of La Fage, that he paid him the following compliment; which may very justly be applied to Mr. Cradock: