declivity?--then he may add
to his shading a figure or two toiling up. The gardener, indeed, cannot
plant a man there; but a copse upon the summit will add to the apparent
height, and he may indicate the difficulty of ascent by a hand-rail
running along the path. The painter will extend his distance by the
_diminuendo_ of his mountains, or of trees stretching toward the
horizon: the gardener has, indeed, no handling of successive mountains,
but he may increase apparent distance by leafy avenues leading toward
the limit of vision; he may even exaggerate the effect still further by
so graduating the size of his trees as to make a counterfeit
perspective.

When I read such a book as this of Whately's,--so informed and leavened
as it is by an elegant taste,--I am most painfully impressed by the
shortcomings of very much which is called good landscape-gardening with
us. As if serpentine walks, and glimpses of elaborated turf-ground, and
dots of exotic evergreens in little circlets of spaded earth, compassed
at all those broad effects which a good designer should keep in mind! We
are gorged with _petit-maitre-_ism, and pretty littlenesses of all
kinds. We have the daintiest of walks, and the rarest of shrubs, and the
best of drainage; but of those grand, bold effects which at once seize
upon the imagination, and inspire it with new worship of Nature, we have
great lack. In private grounds we cannot of course command the
opportunity which the long tenure under British privilege gives; but the
conservators of public parks have scope and verge; let them look to it,
that their resources be not wasted in the niceties of mere gardening, or
in elaborate architectural devices. Banks of blossoming shrubs and
tangled wild vines and labyrinthine walks will count for nothing in
park-effect, when, fifty years hence, the scheme shall have ripened, and
hoary pines pile along the ridges, and gaunt single trees spot here and
there the glades, to invite the noontide wayfarer. A true artist should
keep these ultimate effects always in his eye,--effects that may be
greatly impaired, if not utterly sacrificed, by an injudicious
multiplication of small and meretricious beauties, which in no way
conspire to the grand and final poise of the scene.

But I must not dwell upon so enticing a topic, or my wet day will run
over into sunshine. One word more, however, I have to say of the
personality of the author who has suggested it. The reader of Sparks