The garden as the purest pleasure
What is a garden for, and why does Bacon set it above almost every other made thing? Here the worldly counsellor lays down his statecraft to design an acre planned for beauty in every season.
Alone among the fifty-eight Essays, this one counsels no courtier. Bacon lays out an ideal garden acre by acre and, month by month, so that something is always in flower and the owner walks out into a kind of perpetual spring. He wrote from ground he knew, having planted and rebuilt the gardens at Gorhambury. Gardening, he holds, is the purest of human pleasures and the finest refreshment of the spirits — and he adds that a prince will build a stately house before he learns to garden finely, as if the finished garden were the harder achievement. The prose moves between the practical and the moral without strain.
- aesthetics
- nature
- health
- simplicity
- environmental design
- gardens
- architecture
- cultivation
- nature and culture
- pleasure
- practical wisdom
Enter a dialogue
- You call gardening the purest of human pleasures. What does a garden restore in someone worn out by work that a palace cannot?
- You plan a garden month by month so that it always feels like spring. Why design for the whole year rather than the best season?
- Isn't laying out an ideal garden acre by acre a rich man's amusement, remote from anyone who must actually earn their bread?
- You would plant whole alleys with thyme and water mint, which smell only when trodden on. Why build a walk whose pleasure comes from crushing the plants?
- Flower scent is sweeter in air that comes and goes, like music, than in the hand. How should a garden be planted for it?
- Six of your thirty acres are a heath, left as wild as possible and planted in no order. Why does a carefully planned garden need a wilderness?