OLD ROADS. 55 



closures; and on one side of the house the garden is 

 seen with its unpretending neatness, its few morning- 

 glories, trained up against the walls, its beds of scarlet 

 runners, reared upon trellises, formed of the bended 

 branches of the white birch, driven into the soil; its 

 few rose-bushes of those beautiful kinds which have 

 long been naturalized in our gardens; — when I behold 

 these objects, in their Arcadian simplicity, I lose all 

 faith in the magnificent splendors of princely gardens. 

 I feel persuaded that in these humble scenes exists the 

 highest kind of beauty ; and that he is the happiest 

 man who cares for no more embellishments than his 

 own rustic family have added to the simple charms of 

 nature. 



Let us, therefore, carefully preserve these ancient 

 winding roads, with all their primitive eccentricities. 

 Let no modern vandalism, misnamed public economy, 

 deprive the traveller of their pleasant advantages, by 

 stopping up their beautiful curves, and building shorter 

 cuts for economizing distance. Who that is journeying 

 for pleasure is not delighted with them, as they pass on 

 through pleasant valleys, under the brows of hills, 

 along the banks of green rivers, or the borders of silvery 

 lakes; now half way up some gentle eminence that 

 commands a view of a neighboring village, or winding 

 round a hill, and giviiig us a back view of the scenes 

 we have just passed. They are no niggardly econo- 

 mists of time; but they seem as if purposely contrived 

 to present to the £ye of the traveller every thing, that 

 renders the country desirable to the sight; now leading 

 us over miles bounded by old gi-ey stonewalls, half 

 covered with sweet briars, viburnums, and golden rods; 

 then again through fragrant woods, under the brink of 

 precipices, jaodding with wild shrubbery, and seeming 



