OCTOBER. 449 



She lifla the pastured slope ; to distant hills 



Opposes neighboring shades ; and central oft 



Relieves the flatness of the lawn, or lake, 



With studded tuft, or island. So to poise 



Her objects mimic Art may oft attain. 



She rules the foreground ; she can swell or sink 



Its surface ; here her leafy screen oppose. 



And there withdraw : here part the varying greens, 



And crowd them there in one promiscuous gloom, 



As best befits the genius of the scene." — [Book II. 



The walks and avenues form the next topic of discussion, 

 and the author recommends that peculiar curve, which by 

 some has been called the "line of beauty." It is that curve 

 which is generally found in natural field-paths, or rather such 

 as have been made without design by the tread of animals 

 and of human feet. This, in the author's words, " being 

 casually produced, appears to be the general curve of nature." 

 It is more properly the course, we would add, which is most 

 available to animals and human beings in their efforts, when 

 passing over ground, to gain a certain point. Hence it is 

 nearly straight when passing over an unobstructed level ; full 

 of zigzags in passing over a level covered with tufts or boul- 

 ders, and becomes a neat and pleasing curve only when the 

 ground has a gently undulating surface, or numerous rounded 

 eminences. 



The rest of the book is employed in minutely describing 

 the method of making sunk fences, and other necessary di- 

 visions of the pleasure ground or lawn from the adjacent 

 field or park. These matters are rather too dry for poetic 

 description, and too common place, in the present age of the 

 world, to be worthy of being extracted. The book concludes 

 with an episode, from which we quote the following lines in 

 praise of retirement : — 



" Ah who, when such life's momentary dream, 

 Would mix in hireling senates, strenuous there 

 To crush the venal hydra, whose fell crests 

 Rise with recruited venom from the wound 1 

 Who, for so vain a conflict, would forego 

 Thy sylvan haunts, celestial solitude ! 

 Where self-improvement, crowned with self-content, 



VOL. XXI. NO. X. 57 



