The gardens that adorn the ancient home of the Sidneys are, as to the actual planting of what we see to-day, with repairs to the house and some necessary additions to fit it for modern needs, the work of the late Lord de L'Isle with the architect George Devey, begun about fifty years ago. It was a time when there was not much good work done in gardening, but both were men of fine taste and ability, and the reparation and alteration needed for the house, and the new planting and partly new designing of the garden could not have been in better hands.   

The aspect and sentiment of the garden, now that it has grown into shape — its lines closely following, as far as it went, the old design — are in perfect accordance with the whole feeling of the place, so that there seems to be no break in continuity from the time of the original planting some centuries ago. Such as it is to-day, such one feels sure it was in the old days — in parts line for line and path for path, but throughout, just such a garden as to general form, aspect, and above all, sentiment, as it must have been in the days of old. For when it was first planted the conditions that would have to be considered were always the same; requirement of shelter from prevailing winds; questions relating to various portions, as to whether it would be desirable to welcome the sunlight for the flowers' delight, or to shut it out for human enjoyment of summer coolness — all such grounds of motive were, just as now, deliberated by the men of old days, whose decisions, actuated by sympathy with both house and ground, would bring forth a result whose character would be the same, whether thought out and planned to-day or four centuries ago.   

So it is that we find the old work at Penshurst confirmed and renewed, and new work added of a like kind, such as will make use of the wider modern range of garden plants, while it retains the dignity and grandeur of the fine old place.     

The house stands on a wide space of grass terrace commanding the garden. On a lower level is a large quadrangular parterre, with cross paths. In each of its square angles is a sunk garden with a five-foot-wide verge of turf and a bordering stone kerb forming a step. The beds within, filled with good hardy plants, have bold box edgings eighteen inches high and a foot thick, that not only set off the bright masses of flowers within, but have in themselves an air of solidity and importance that befits the large scale of the place. They represent in their own position and on their lesser scale somewhat of the same character as the massive yew hedges, twelve feet high and six feet through, that do their own work in other parts of the garden.   

These grand yew hedges and solid box borders have responded well to good planting and tending, for the late Lord de L'Isle knew his work and did it thoroughly. Not only was the ground well prepared, but for several years after planting the young trees were provided with a surface dressing that prevented evaporation and provided nutriment. This was carefully attended to, not only in the case of the yews but of the box edgings also.   

The cross-walks of the parterre do not meet in the middle, but sweep round a circular fountain basin, in the centre of which stands a statue of what may be a young Hercules, brought from Italy by Lord de L'Isle. The slender grace of the figure might at first suggest a youthful Bacchus, but the identity in such a statue is easily established by looking for one or other of the characteristic attributes of Hercules; these usually are the lion's skin, the upright-growing hair on the forehead, the poplar wreath or the battered, flattened ears. But the statue stands too far from the walk to be exactly identified.   

That the nearer portions of the garden are on the same lines as the older planting is shown by an engraving in Harris's "Kent," where the parterre is, now as then, bounded by terraces on two of its sides, the house side and that of the adjoining churchyard, to which access is gained by a beautiful gabled gateway of brick and stone, the work of Tudor times.   

The old churchyard has its own beauty, while the church and a fine group of elms are seen from the garden above the wall, and take their own beneficent place in the garden landscape.   

The rectangular fountain, which, with its surrounding yew hedges, and the grass walks also inclosed by thick yew hedges, divides the two portions of the kitchen garden, are also parts of the old design, added to by the late owner. The yew hedges beyond the fountain pool have been set back to allow width enough for a handsome flower-border on either side. Water Lilies grow in the pool and the flower-borders display their beauties beyond, while the fruit trees of the kitchen garden show above the thick green hedges as flowering masses in spring, and in later summer, as the taller perennials of the border rise to their full height, as a thin copse of fruit and leafage. The turf walk and flower-border swing outward to suit the greater width of another fountain-basin at the end. This has straight sides running the way of the main path, and a segmental front. Instead of the usual rising kerb, there are two shallow stone steps, the upper one even with the grass, the lower half way between that and the water-level. Except that it is less of a protection than something of the parapet kind, this is a most desirable means of near access to the water; welcome to the eye in all ways and allowing the water-surface to be seen from a distance. It is pleasantly noticeable in this pool that the water-level rises to the proper place. Nothing is more frequent or more unsightly than a deep pool or basin with straight sides and only a little water in the bottom. If the height of the water is necessarily fluctuating it is a good plan to build the tank in a succession of such steps; they are pleasant to see both above and under water, and in the case of an accident to a straying child, danger is reduced to the smallest point.