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leaves first, and then upon their fruits, which were good for nothing the years they were so affected. My orange-trees were likewise subject to it, and never prospered while they were so; and I have known some collections quite destroyed by it: but I cannot say that ever I found either my figs or pears infected with it, nor any trees upon my east. walls, though I do not well conjecture at the rea. son. The rest were so spoiled with it, that I complained to several of the oldest and best gardeners of England, who knew nothing of it, but that they often fell into the same misfortune, and esteemed it some blight of the spring. I observed, after some years, that the diseased trees had, very frequent, upon their stocks and branches, a small insect of a dark brown colour, figured like a shield, and about the size of a large wheat corn: they stuck close to the bark, and in many places covered it, especially about the joints: in winter they are dry, and thinshelled; but in spring they begin to grow soft, and to fill with moisture, and to throw a spawn like a black dust upon the stocks, as well as the leaves and fruits.

I met afterwards with the mention of this disease, as known among orange trees, in a book written upon that subject in Holland, and since in Pausanias, as a thing so much taken notice of in Greece, that the author describes a certain sort of earth which cures pediculos vitis, or the lice of the vine. This is of all others the most pestilent disease of the best fruit trees, and upon the very best soils of gravel and sand; (especially where they are too hungry) and is so contagious, that it it is propagated to new plants raised from old trees that are infected, and spreads to new ones that are planted

near them; which makes me imagine, that it lies in the root, and that the best cure were by application there but I have tried all sorts of soil without effect, and can prescribe no other remedy, than to prune your trees as close as you can, especially the tainted wood; then to wash them very clean with a wet brush, so as not to leave one shell upon them that you can discern; and upon your oranges to pick off every one that you can find, by turning every leaf, as well as brushing clean the stocks and branches. Without these cares and diligences, you had better root up any trees that are infected, renew all the mould in your borders or boxes, and plant new sound trees, rather than suffer the disappointments and vexation of your old ones.

I may perhaps be allowed to know something of this trade, since I have so long allowed myself to be good for nothing else, which few men will do, or enjoy their gardens, without often looking abroad to see how other matters play, what motions in the state, and what invitations they may hope for into other scenes.

For my own part, as the country life, and this part of it more particularly, were the inclination of my youth itself, so they are the pleasure of my age; and I can truly say, that, among many great employments that have fallen to my share, I have never asked or sought for any one of them, but often endeavoured to escape from them, into the ease and freedom of a private scene, where a man may go his own way and his own pace, in the common paths or circles of life.

Inter cuncta leges et percunctabere doctos,
Quâ ratione queas traducere leniter æyum,

Quid minuat curæ, quid te tibi reddet amicum,
Quid pure tranquillet, honos, an dulce lucellum,
An secretum iter, et fallentis semita vitæ.

But above all, the learned read, and ask

By what means you may gently pass your age,
What lessens care, what makes thee thine own friend,
What truly calms the mind-honour, or wealth,
Or else a private path of stealing life.

These are questions that a man ought at least to ask himself, whether he asks others or no; and to choose his course of life rather by his own humour and temper, than by common accidents, or advice of friends; at least, if the Spanish proverb be true, that a fool knows more in his own house than a wise man in another's.

The measure of choosing well is, whether a man likes what he has chosen ; which, I thank God, has befallen me; and though, among the follies of my life, building and planting have not been the least, and have cost me more than I have the confidence to own; yet they have been fully recompensed by the sweetness and satisfaction of this retreat, where, since my resolution taken of never entering again into any public employments, I have passed five years without ever going once to town, though I am almost in sight of it, and have a house there always ready to receive me. Nor has this been any sort of affectation, as some have thought it; but a mere want of desire or humour to make so small a remove; for when I am in this corner, I can truly say with Horace,

Me quoties reficit gelidus Digentia rivus,

Quid sentire putas, quid credis, amice, precari?
VOL. I.

D

Sit mihi, quod nunc est, etiam minus, ut mihi vivam
Quod superest ævi, si quid superesse volunt Df.
Sit bona librorum, et provisæ frugis in annum,
Copia, ne fluitem dubiæ spe pendulus horæ..
Hoc satis est orâsse Jovem, qui donat et aufert.

Me, when the cold Digentian stream revives,
What does my friend believe I think or ask?
Let me yet less possess, so I may live,
Whate'er of life remains, unto myself.
May I have books enough, and one year's store,
Not to depend upon each doubtful hour,
This is enough of mighty Jove to pray,
Who, as he pleases, gives and takes away.

That which makes the cares of gardening more necessary, or at least more excusable, is, that all men eat fruit that can get it; so as the choice is only, whether one will eat good or ill and between these the difference is not greater in point of taste and delicacy, than it is of health: for the first, I will only say, that whoever has used to eat good, will do very great penance when he comes to ill; and for the other, I think nothing is more evident, than as ill or unripe fruit is extremely unwholesome, and causes so many untimely deaths, or so much sickness about autumn, in all great cities, where it is greedily sold as well as eaten; so no part of diet, in any season, is so healthful, so natural, and so agreeable to the stomach, as good and well-ripened fruits; for this I make the measure of their being good and, let the kinds be what they will, if they will not ripen perfectly in our climate, they are better never planted, or never eaten. I can say it for myself at least, and all my friends, that the sea

son of summer fruits is ever the season of health with us, which I reckon from the beginning of June to the end of September; and for all sicknesses of the stomach, (from which most others are judged to proceed) I do not think any that are, like me, the most subject to them, shall complain, whenever they eat thirty or forty cherries before meals, or the like proportion of strawberries, white figs, soft peaches, or grapes perfectly ripe. But these, after Michaelmas, I do not think wholesome with us, unless attended by some fit of hot and dry weather, more than is usual after that season when the frosts or the rain hath taken them, they grow dangerous, and nothing but the autumn and winter-pears are to be reckoned in season, besides apples, which, with cherries, are, of all others, the most innocent food, and perhaps the best physic. Now whoever will be sure to eat good fruit, must do it out of a garden of his own: for besides the choice so necessary in the sorts, the soil, and so many other circumstances that go to compose a good garden, or produce good fruits, there is something very nice in gathering them, and choosing the best, even from the same tree. The best sorts of all among us, which I esteem the white figs and the soft peaches, will not carry without suffering. The best fruit that is bought, has no more of the master's care, than how to raise the greatest gains; his business is to have as much fruit as he can upon a few trees; whereas the way to have it excellent is to have but little upon many trees. So that for all things out of a garden, either of salads or fruits, a poor man will eat better, that has one of his own,

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