138 THE PRAISE OF GARDENS 



they say, any one may place trees in equal rows and uniform 

 figures. 



They choose rather to shew a genius in works of this nature, 

 and therefore always conceal the art by which they direct them- 

 selves. They have a word, it seems, in their language, by which 

 they express the particular beauty of a plantation, that thus strikes 

 the imagination at first sight, without discovering what it is, that 

 has so agreeable an effect. 



Our British gardeners, on the contrary, instead of humouring 

 nature, love to deviate from it as much as possible. Our trees 

 rise in cones, globes, and pyramids. We see the marks of the 

 scissors upon every plant and bush. I do not know whether I 

 am singular in my opinion, but for my own part, I would rather 

 look upon a tree in all its luxuriancy and diffusion of boughs and 

 branches, than when it is thus cut and trimmed into a mathe- 

 matical figure : and cannot but fancy that an orchard in flower 

 looks infinitely more delightful, than all the little labyrinths of 

 the most finished parterre. But as our great modellers of 

 gardens have their magazines of plants to dispose of, it is very 

 natural for them to tear up all the beautiful plantations of fruit- 

 trees, and contrive a plan that may most turn to their own profit, 

 in taking off their evergreens, and the like movable plants, with 

 which their shops are plentifully stocked. The Spectator^ No. 414. 

 Wednesday ', June 25, 1712. 



I have often looked upon it as a piece of happiness that I have 

 never fallen into any of these fantastical tastes, nor esteemed 

 anything the more for its being uncommon and hard to be met 

 with. For this reason I look upon the whole country in Spring- 

 time as a spacious garden, and make as many visits to a spot of 

 daisies, or a bank of violets, as a florist does to his borders or 

 parterres. 



There is not a bush in blossom within a mile of me, which I 

 am not acquainted with, nor scarce a daffodil or cowslip that 

 withers away in my neighbourhood without my missing it. I 

 walked home in this temper of mind through several fields and 

 meadows with an unspeakable pleasure, not without reflecting on 



