ing defects of symmetry or enrichment. But where the architect has thoroughly studied his subject, and treated it as a picture, aids of this sort will be but little wanted, and should be adopted with the utmost care; for there is probably no one point in landscape gardening wherein less of the true feeling of art is exhibited than in the choice of accompaniments to a building.

4. What are commonly called belts of plantation are often found in small places, and are among the things which, in general, are quite inappropriate. They consist of strips of trees, either of equal or irregular width, placed just within the entire boundary, so as to confine the view wholly to the place itself. They serve, in fact, completely to shut it in, by a kind of green wall, which effectually excludes a great deal of sunlight and air, and all appearance of distance or animation. They make the garden a sort of prison, which cannot be seen into by others, and from which not a glimpse of what is passing without can be obtained. Privacy, no doubt, they may secure, but it is the privacy of the cell or the cloister;-a sort of monastic seclusion, which would better befit the tenant of a hermitage.

Nothing could be more monotonous than a belt of plantation, in which the trees are nearly all of the same age, height, and general character. All variety of effect, and all ideas of indefiniteness, are of course out of the question under such circumstances. To whatever part of the garden we go, the same hard and uniform boundary terminates the view. There is no play of outline, none of that beautiful illusion which arises from skilful connexion with other property. The cheerfulness of sunlight is curtailed, and the healthy vigour common to plants which have plenty of light and air is not to be found. The walks become green and slimy, and are always more or less damp; while a portion of the grass is made feeble and sickly, or gradually dwindles away into mere mossiness.

But the worst feature of all these evils is, that they have seldom any origin in necessity, and could usually be obviated. There are extremely few places so thoroughly surrounded by bad objects, as to allow of no breaks in the boundary, and no peeps into the country beyond. And even where such is the case, considerable diversity and interest may be created by the use of plants of different heights and habits, to act as the screen. Indeed, a boundary that must necessarily be a barrier to all further view

D

into the outlying country, may be so contrived and treated as scarcely to appear like a boundary at all, as I shall hereafter have occasion to show. I need only add here that formal, regular belts, especially where the trees are planted in rows, as they are continually to be met with in the neighbourhood of most large towns, are in the worst possible taste.

Those masses of trees or shrubs known as clumps, and notorious for their extreme clumsiness, are a part of the same system as belts, and alike open to reprobation. They are either roundish, or of no regular figure; nor can they be called irregular. As generally used, they can only be described as large spots or blots in the landscape, having neither beauty in themselves nor in connection with anything else. It is probable that they were originally intended as the foundation or nucleus of a scattered group, merely filled up for a time, to obtain protection and greater rapidity of growth. And for this purpose they have some degree of practical utility and value. But such objects might often be just as well fulfilled in conjunction with some more indefinite and pleasing external outline.

Narrow strips or lines of plantation are among the most tasteless forms which belts can assume, and are equally mean and undignified wherever else they may occur. They can so readily be seen through, and will frequently present, at the lower parts, a mere assemblage of bare stems. Their effect is most meagre. They want breadth and massiveness. Hence, when plantations are necessarily so straitened, they should be composed mainly of such low-growing shrubs and dwarf-trees, especially evergreens, as will, by being planted tolerably close, and furnished down to the ground, produce a thicket-like character, that shall conceal or disguise their actual dimensions.

margins of small parks, where, if undergrowth of any kind has ever been planted, it has become killed by the density and shade of the larger trees. Fig. 6 will serve as a hint of the way in

which such a belt may be broken up, and its form still more diversified by the use of a few intermediate bushes, such as Thorns or Hollies.

The same defect, rendered, probably, a little more manifest from the superior beauty and variety of the ground line, will be

cated in Fig. 8, where the trees are thrown into masses on the slopes and summits of the swells in the ground; the hollow being

left unclothed for the purpose of marking the full extent of its depression.

5. Any description of high fence that confines a place too much is as faulty in all essential respects as a belt of plantation, and in some particulars even more so. It has a harsher, more forbidding, and exclusive appearance, and its upper line will necessarily be stiffer. It gives an unkindly and inhospitable expression to a place. Besides, high close fences keep out air more than even trees, and also produce, for a given distance, a more complete shade. They should never be employed unless they are really indispensable, and then they ought to have the hardness of their lines relieved by trees and shrubs inside, or with ivy or other climbers scrambling irregularly over them. Those sides of a garden where shelter is required must, however, be excepted from the rule; though it will generally be found that trees are a much better screen for gardens than a wall, (unless the latter be very high,) provided there be breadth enough to admit of a sufficiently dense plantation.

6. There is an opposite extreme to that just described, into which some persons are apt to fall, by rendering their gardens too exposed. Examples might be found in which, from a love of display, or a disposition to give others the benefit of whatever enjoyment happens to be possessed, every inch of the garden is bared to the public gaze. There is thus no quietude, no retirement, and scarcely any of the pleasure arising from the ownership of property. A lady or gentleman fond of gardening cannot engage in any of its pursuits without attracting general notice; dogs and other animals will have the run of the place; and the luxury of cherishing song-birds must be relinquished, for they will not frequent a garden that is so unsheltered.

Nor is this all. Every beautiful flower that unfolds itself, or shrub that spreads out its attractive berries about Christmas time, affords so many temptations to pilfering for the passers by, among whom there will ordinarily be some, at least, who will be unable to resist the inducement; and the mortification of seeing the choicest and most admired favourites thus stolen will be frequently incurred.

Besides this, a too open boundary fence is undesirable as a matter of taste. It exhibits the limits of the place too clearly, and will, in most cases, show public roads, fences to other pro

perty, buildings, &c., that should rather be concealed. It reveals what is beyond the place in too broad and expanded views, which are, unless in very peculiar circumstances, not nearly so interesting and effective as narrower ones, apart even from the consideration of the former often exhibiting what is not wanted to be seen; and it lays bare the life and bustle of the highway too glaringly and thoroughly, instead of in mere glimpses, and at broken intervals.

As a question of convenience, too, a very open fence is equally to be avoided, when, as is all along assumed, it is not covered, or partially covered, from within by shrubs and trees. It admits winds too freely; and there is as little screen afforded by it from the weather as there is from the observation of passengers; partial protection from winds being one of the most important conditions in a good garden. It likewise allows all the dust from the outside road to enter a place in summer, and thus the shrubs and flowers become soiled, and the whole garden dirty and uncomfortable. It further interposes no deadening or softening influence to the harsh and disagreeable noises of traffic on a highway; the rumble of vehicles, or the still more grating sound of the rude or obscene jest and vulgar quarrel.

7. Where a garden is to be made on land that has been planted at some previous period, and trees of considerable magnitude exist upon it, especial care should be used in reference to the removal of any of these, so as not to render the place too open and bare; for, where fine trees are known to have stood, an air of nakedness and poverty of the higher forms of vegetation will be all the more manifest and displeasing. There is no subject on which greater deliberation is demanded than the cutting down or removal of large trees, as nothing changes the character of a place more.

8. The adoption of too great a mixture of styles in gardens is an error that should be specially guarded against. It is the source of numberless little incongruities and improprieties; and although, where the space is very small, it may be somewhat difficult to attain any style at all, yet a mixture of the formal and the free, the decorated and the simple, the picturesque and the polished, is sometimes seen attempted, and with the worst effects. Straight and regular lines can rarely be blended with curved and flowing ones; nor can rough and broken forms be