Chap. XVL] A PEW NOTES ON PRIVATE GARDENS. 251 



home ; and richly-stored or otherwise remarkable gardens are not 

 so common as with us. Frequently the chateau-garden is a dismal 

 exhibition of the absurdities of the old school of landscape- 

 gardeners. Lime and other trees shorn into the form of walls ; 

 dreary expanses of gravelled surface ; endless straight avenues 

 instead of open spaces where the breezes might play with the 

 grass ; crumbling fountain-basins suggestive of mouldering tombs ; 

 often an Orangery reminding one of the time when the Orange 

 was our only greenhouse-plant ; and statues that one wishes 

 buried with those who carved them. There are exceptions, and 

 many, but even in the best there is a great deal more of the 

 zoological element that one cares to have in an English garden. 

 The aviary, too, is often disagreeably conspicuous, and the water- 

 fowl plentiful enough to destroy the beauty of the water. The 

 buildings — hoary with time, and frequently interesting as regards 

 architecture — are seldom surrounded by noble trees. The absence 

 of these is freque_ntly accounted for by the destruction through 

 wars, especially round Paris, though the stupid practice of lopping 

 has much to answer for. A revolution in this respect is as much 

 wanted in many gardens in France, as eve^ it was politically in 

 that country. The admirable culture that one notices in the 

 market-gardens round Paris and some other cities, is ra.rely 

 seen in the ordinary chateau-garden, which seldom looks so well 

 cultivated as an average English kitchen-garden. A few well- 

 trained trees, however, are always to be seen. The art of training 

 and grafting fruit-trees with ease, seems now to be as deeply 

 engrained into the French as the art of making soup. 



It is in the gardens of the middle-class that we may best judge 

 of French gardening. The merit of these is that they are not 

 wholly sacrificed to the demon of bedding-out, but often contain 

 a variety of plant-form and flowers ; they are frequently fresh 

 and pretty in winter, and laid out without the horrid pattern- 

 beds which make the sight of so many gardens far from soothing. 

 In large gardens at home, wise people sometimes get a little 

 freedom from the tormenting beds that have been the worthless 

 stock-in-trade of the landscape-gardener for centuries; small 

 gardens are nearly always ruined by these. A bed, in the sense 

 of a body of well-prepared soil, is essential in gardens ; but it is 

 not necessary that beds should take ugly forms. The best pre- 



