There, in those enchanted regions, men are heroes and women are beautiful, and all that the heart desires is to be found. There, and perhaps only there, grow “the flower of peace, and the rose that cannot wither.” Beyond that gateway stand the gorgeous palaces wherein sit the queens of the young world, of whose beauty the fairest women of our own age have but a semblance. There they rest upon their marble thrones, their loveliness causing the brain to reel and the heart to faint; and into their presence the initiate may penetrate, unchecked and unannounced. Here in this garden a man may at will become one with burly Antony; and with pleasant arrogance may mount the dais’ steps to Cleopatra’s side, and put his arm about her bewildering shoulders. He may merge himself into splendid Lucullus, and watch with mild amusement the amazement of his self-invited guests, Cicero and Pompey, served at a moment’s notice with a fifty-thousand drachmæ dinner in the sumptuous apartment called “Apollo.” In the twinkling of an eye, for so mighty is the magic of the garden, he may turn from Lucullus to become that Roman’s enemy, the swift-footed royal athlete Mithradates, wooing the reluctant Monime in the palace of Miletus on the banks of Meander. Now he is young Cimon, intoxicated by the beauty of Asteria of Salamis; and now he is Demetrius in the happy toils of the fair Lamia. Mounting the magic carpet he may leap over the seas and deserts to Babylon, where, with a gesture, he may become one with Sargon, and may parade the hanging gardens in the light of the tremendous moon. Away he may fly once more to the valley of the Nile, whence, in the guise of King Unis, he may ascend the “ladder of the sun,” burst open the “double gates of the sky,” and play with “the imperishable stars.” There is no end to the entertainment which he may enjoy in the Garden of the Past; and, coming back, happy and breathless, to his home in the Present, is it to be supposed that he, who is bursting with what he has seen and done, will desire to record in heavy and stately language the adventures he has experienced in that irresponsible playground? He who writes the history of the Past in pompous phrases has never left the Present.