such quarters. You will need also to surround your premises with a belt of trees 

 and shrubs for the sake of protection from cold winds and from the gaze of the public. 

 He who has had his choicest trees and shrubs broken down or beaten out of shape, 

 and his fruit and flowers scattered on the ground by driving storms, need not be told 

 of the importance of shelter from the winds. Moreover, a place is wanting in a 

 homc-JooJx, if all parts of it are open to the direct inspection of the street. Snugly 

 nestled among trees and vines, it has an air of peaceful seclusion and comfort. When 

 within the gates of our own premises, we wish to feel that we are lords of the soil, 

 that we may lay aside formal restraint, may wear our oldest coat and most shocking 

 hat, may romp and roll on the grass with children, and do anything we please, and 

 yet not be exposed to the stare and criticism of street-goers. Moreover, there are 

 few houses so perfect in proportion and finish as not to appear better if partially 

 screened by a drapery of trees and vines. Is not even the sky most beautiful when 

 seen through openings in the clouds, and the finest views of the ocean, are they not 

 those caught through vistas of mountains and forests? Indeed, nearly all objects 

 interest us most when a part of them only is seen, since the imagination conceives 

 greater things of what remains unseen. So, many a country residence, though faulty 

 in some respects, if it were seen standing bare and naked at all points, pleases the 

 taste and engages the heart when partly concealed, and allowing only glimpses of it 

 to be caught here and there from favorable positions. And if it might not seem too 

 harsh a judgment of others, I would say that the practice of leaving one's premises 

 open to the street, for the sake of being gazed at, implies a love of display on the 

 part of the owner which is far from being commendable. To see a lawn filled with 

 statuary, and vases, and miniature temples, and rock-work, and arbors, and gaudy 

 flowers, paraded like the wares of a tradesman to catch the eye of the public, — how 

 can one help feeling disgust at such vanity and corrupt taste ! A love of retirement 

 and modest seclusion is not exclusiveness, and should not be confounded with it. 

 For reasons like these, I would say, encircle your grounds (except at those points 

 where views are to be preserved,) with belts of trees. Let these belts run in irre- 

 gular, waving lines, and be composed of deciduous and evergreen trees mingled to- 

 gether, and of the latter the more the better. Before the openings left for prospects, 

 plant low trees or shrubs to preserve the privacy of your grounds, and yet allow one 

 to see the surrounding landscape. And these openings should not be stiff, square 

 places, cut out like windows in the side of a house, but should have flowing outlines, 

 the whole looking as though the trees were gracefully holding back their branches 

 to allow you a sight of the scenery beyond them. Wherever you can plant hedges 

 as substitutes for fences, do so; and where you cannot, set masses of shrubs with 

 clambering vines to conceal your boundries. 



When riding in the country in summer, and passing, it may be, through valleys, 

 have you not sometimes noticed shady nooks, cool recesses amid thick, overhanging 

 boughs ? And did they not always excite pleasing emotions ? Then endeavor to 

 create some such scene in a quiet corner of your own premises. Have you not some- 

 times sat upon a hill-side beneath a spreading tree or grove, and looked off upon the 



