THIS is a delightful book, well worthy of notice in a scientific journal, because the man of science, like all other sensible men, may know the simple pleasure of working in and enjoying his garden. The book is a collection of garden observations, "thoughts and philosophy by a keen amateur gardener of many years standing". He describes "the garden of a thousand joys", which, he says, is the only name for the garden which is loved by the person who works in it. He does not write for the wealthy person who owns a garden in which the work is done by aged menials, nor for a gardening mechanic who merely makes a garden. He writes for those for whom a garden means what it means for him—a beloved place where one toils and plants one's thoughts. His book is one which can be picked up at any time, for through its pages runs a warm and a highly intelligent love for the things of the garden.
Through My Garden Gate
By Newman Flower. Pp. v + 94. (London, Toronto, Sydney and Melbourne: Cassell and Co., Ltd., 1945.) 5s, net.