ns think the
Verdure of an Ever-Green comparable to that which shoots out annually,
and clothes our Trees in the Summer-Season. But I have often wonder'd
that those who are like my self, and love to live in Gardens, have
never thought of contriving a _Winter Garden_, which would consist of
such Trees only as never cast their Leaves. We have very often little
Snatches of Sunshine and fair Weather in the most uncomfortable Parts
of the Year; and have frequently several Days in _November_ and
_January_ that are as agreeable as any in the finest Months. At such
times, therefore, I think there could not be a greater Pleasure, than
to walk in such a _Winter-Garden_ as I have proposed. In the
Summer-Season the whole Country blooms, and is a kind of Garden, for
which reason we are not so sensible of those Beauties that at this
time may be every where met with; but when Nature is in her
Desolation, and presents us with nothing but bleak and barren
Prospects, there is something unspeakably chearful in a Spot of Ground
which is covered with Trees that smile amidst all the Rigours of
Winter, and give us a View of the most gay Season in the midst of that
which is the most dead and melancholy. I have so far indulged my self
in this Thought, that I have set apart a whole Acre of Ground for the
executing of it. The Walls are covered with Ivy instead of Vines. The
Laurel, the Hornbeam, and the Holly, with many other Trees and Plants
of the same nature, grow so thick in it, that you cannot imagine a
more lively Scene. The glowing Redness of the Berries, with which they
are hung at this time, vies with the Verdure of their Leaves, and are
apt to inspire the Heart of the Beholder with that vernal Delight
which you have somewhere taken notice of in your former papers. [1] It
is very pleasant, at the same time, to see the several kinds of Birds
retiring into this little Green Spot, and enjoying themselves among
the Branches and Foliage, when my great Garden, which I have before
mention'd to you, does not afford a single Leaf for their Shelter.

You must know, Sir, that I look upon the Pleasure which we take in a
Garden, as one of the most innocent Delights in Human Life. A Garden
was the Habitation of our first Parents before the Fall. It is
naturally apt to fill the Mind with Calmness and Tranquillity, and to
lay all its turbulent Passions at rest. It gives us a great insi