Cling To Thy Native Land, For It

Dare To Be Wrong And To Dream.

If The Art Of Gardening Is At Last To Turn Back From Her Extravagances And Rest With Her Other Sisters, It Is, Above Everything, Necessary To Have Clearly Before You What You Require . . . It Is Certainly Tasteless And Inconsistent To Desire To Encompass The World With A Garden-wall, But Very Practicable And Reasonable To Make A Garden . . . Into A Characteristic Whole To The Eye, Heart, And Nderstanding Alike.

Everlastingly Chained To A Single Little Fragment Of The Whole, Man Himself Develops Into Nothing But A Fragment; Everlastingly In His Ear The Monotonous Sound Of The Wheel That He Turns, He Never Develops The Harmony Of His Being, And Instead Of Putting The Stamp Of Humanity Upon His Own Nature, He Becomes Nothing More Than The Imprint Of His Occupation Or Of His Specialized Knowledge.

The Painter Is, As To The Execution Of His Work, A Mechanic; But As To His Conception And Spirit And Design He Is Hardly Below Even The Poet.

You Saw His Weakness, And He Will Never Forgive You.