573 



TJic CouvJry Gcnilcinan's Magazine 



each twig reached the ground ; and yet we 

 see that this very overflowing of the fohage is 

 one of the chief charms of the tree. 



If we have any particular wish for a parasol 

 or umbrella-shaped weeping tree, by all means 

 let us have it ; or if we prefer a willow cabin 

 or summer-house, let us get it ; but, for any 

 sake, don't let us build it at our gate. Let 

 us hide it out of sight in the most out-of-the- 

 Avay corner that we can find, and let us keep 

 the likings for such things g, profound secret, 

 as we should any of those little weaknesses or 

 idiosyncracies which bring us occasionally 

 acquainted with Dr Winslow or Dr Lowe. 



In what we shew aboveboard, let us restrict 

 ourselves to something within our power to 

 accomplish; let us try only one thing at a time, 

 and we shall succeed ; let us aim at beauty, 

 and all that we have to do is to be still ; let 

 us refrain from interfering ; let us not be ever 

 more meddling, and there is no reasoawhyour 

 weeping trees should not be as beautiful as 

 Mr Hope's weeping ash. It is plain that we 

 cannot have a more refractory subject than 

 the ash, which, instead of being pendulous 

 and flexible, sends out its shoots like iron rods 

 on every side. A very down-looking tree, 

 as stiff and impracticable as any we know. 

 If such a result as that shewn in fig. 3 can be 

 produced with it, it is plain that all others must 

 be easy and simple, if they are pendulous at all. 



Supposing us to desire to follow the ex- 

 ample we have given, let us pay attention to 

 putting our weeping trees in the right place, 

 and the right kind in the right place, for all 

 are not indifferently suited to every place. 

 The rule seems very simple. Do not put 

 large trees, such as weeping ashes or v/eeping 

 ■elms, in the garden or the lawn. Put them in 

 the park or circuit. If we have not a park, 

 that is no reason for putting them where they 

 would be otherwise unsuitable. We have 

 plenty of suitable weeping trees for gardens, 

 shrubberies, and lawns — small, with tiny and 

 beautiful green leaves, as Sophora Japonica. 

 We do, however, protest against the fashion 

 adopted by some, of grafting some low-grow- 

 ing and creeping plant on the top of a long 

 stick. Of course it tries to creep in its new 

 position, and the young twigs droop not as a 



natural pendent variety or species, but simply 

 droops for want of support. The result cer- 

 tainly is not satisfactory. Take Caragana 

 pygmcea, where you have a few long filaments 

 bearing trifling and insignificant foliage, hang- 

 ing down, and pretending to be a pendulous 

 plant. Loudon, who seldom has an ill word 

 to say of anything, and never of a plant, says 

 of this absurdity : — " The dwarf and pendu- 

 lous growing species (we call it an absurdity, 

 because, how can a dwarf plant be pendulous?) 

 when grafted standard high on C. arborescens, 

 form very singular trees ; and though such 

 trees cannot be recommended for general in- 

 troduction into gardens or pleasure-grounds 

 (for no kind of impression sooner fatigues the 

 mind than that of excessive vulgarity), yet the 

 occasional introduction of wdiat is singular 

 or unique among what is natural or general, 

 produces, by contrast, a striking effect, inter- 

 rupts the ordinary train of impressions, and 

 recalls the mind of the spectator from the 

 beauties of nature to those of art." 



We do not quite go along with Mr Loudon 

 here. The occasions where a mixture of 

 nature with art is beautiful are where the two 

 are mingled together, yet felt to be distinct, 

 as a cottage embowered with honeysuckle ; a 

 church spire rising from a cluster of trees ; a 

 mixture of nature Avith art where you cannot 

 tell which is which, is but a bastard kind of 

 beauty after all. 



Another reason, besides the ugliness pro- 

 duced by the treatment Avhich we have ven- 

 tured to object to, why weeping trees arc 

 not so popular, nor so much planted as they 

 would otherwise be, no doubt is their constant 

 association with cemeteries and graves. We 

 may not own it, but there are plenty of us 

 who feel like Falstaff, and say to ourselves, 

 '' Peace, good tree, do not speak like a death's 

 head. Do not bid me remember my end." 



But if we get out of the conventional 

 death's-head shape, and make the trees as 

 they are, really things of beauty, the objec- 

 tion will disappear. Fortunately, it is the 

 wrong system which has been folloAved in the 

 cemeteries, so that with a new treatment we 

 get rid both of old errors and the unpleasant 

 impressions. 



