324 Landscape Gardening 



preached a sermon from this text. No matter; we should 

 be glad to preach fifty; yes, or even establish a sect, as 

 that seems the only way of making proselytes now, - - whose 

 duty it should be to convert people living in the country 

 towns to the true faith; we mean the true rural faith, viz., 

 that it is immoral and uncivilized to live in mean and un- 

 couth villages, where there is no poverty, or want of intelli- 

 gence in the inhabitants; that there is nothing laudable in 

 having a pianoforte and mahogany chairs in the parlor 

 where the streets outside are barren of shade trees, destitute 

 of sidewalks, and populous with pigs and geese. 



We are bound to admit (with a little shame and humilia- 

 tion, - - being a native of New York, the "Empire State"), 

 that there is one part of the Union where the millennium of 

 country towns, and good government and rural taste has 

 not only commenced but is in full domination. We mean, 

 of course, Massachusetts. The traveller may go from one 

 end of that state to the other, and find flourishing villages 

 with broad streets lined with maples and elms, behind 

 which are goodly rows of neat and substantial dwellings, 

 full of evidences of order, comfort and taste. Throughout 

 the whole state no animals are allowed to run at large in 

 the streets of towns and villages. Hence so much more 

 cleanliness than elsewhere; so much more order and neat- 

 ness; so many more pretty rural lanes; so many inviting 

 flower gardens and orchards, only separated from the 

 passer-by by a low railing or hedge instead of a formidable 

 board fence. Now if you cross the state line into New 

 York - - a state of far greater wealth than Massachusetts, 

 as long settled and nearly as populous -- you feel directly 

 that you are in the land of "pigs and poultry," in the least 

 agreeable sense of the word. In passing through villages 

 and towns the truth is still more striking as you go to the 

 south and west; and you feel little or nothing of that sense, 

 of "how pleasant it must be to live here," which the traveller 

 through Berkshire, or the Connecticut valley, or the pretty 

 villages about Boston, feels moving his heart within him. 

 You are rather inclined to wish there were two new com- 



