THE CHAMPS ELYSEES. 5 



of like places ; but it need not be so. There is no need for 

 placing tbem in competition with the glass-houses, or along 

 a main walk, or in any position where they may in the 

 least interfere with the beauty and peace of the scene. 

 They might be placed in isolated yet easily accessible spots, 

 shrouded with trees and shrubs from the garden or park, 

 yet commanding peeps of it here and there; they might 

 have naturally disposed groups of low spreading trees near 

 them, under which people could sit to dine, or take tea in 

 the summer months; they might have open-sided bowers 

 with zinc roofs, the pillars supporting them being draped 

 with Virginian creepers, flowering roses, and the like, and 

 the roofs also densely covered with them. They would have 

 all the attractiveness of open trellis-work creeper-clad 

 bowers, and be at the same time quite impervious to 

 showers. 



As we proceed, fountains, weeping willows, and not less 

 beautiful weeping Sophoras are seen, and so many isolated 

 specimens of the noblest trees and plants, such as Welling- 

 tonia, pampas grass, fine-foliaged plants, &c, that we must 

 not mention them all ; but arriving at the Palace of Industry, 

 we make a considerable detour to the left to see a garden 

 devoted to music — the Concert of the Champs Elysees, con- 

 ducted by Musard. I draw attention to this to show that 

 it is possible to introduce amusements into our public 

 gardens without originating anything like the Jardin Bullier 

 or Cremorne. I know of no place more creditably con- 

 ducted than this, and any of the many English who have 

 spent a summer evening in it will be of the same opinion. 

 It is as quiet and free from objectionable features as a 

 flower-show in the Regent's Park, and very tastefully ar- 

 ranged. In the centre a band-stand, around it a bed of 

 flowers, then about ninety feet of gravel planted with circles 

 of trees. Between each two of the outer line of horse- 

 chestnuts there is a lamp-post with seven lights, standing in 

 a mass of flowers. Between this and the enclosing fence 

 there are belts of grass, trees, and of the choicest shrubs ; 

 in one part a little lawn with its cedars and maiden-hair 

 trees, bamboos, Irish yews, ivy-clad stems, and flower-beds ; 



