I 2 
HOUSE AND GARDEN 
January, 1910 
One trick of successful screening is to make the screen and its foreground 
so interesting that one does not wonder what lies beyond 
which brings an object or a view—usually the latter—into the 
general scheme of a place, even though it is miles distant from it. 
Leaving the intervening space unobstructed and quite free 
from any planting would seem to be the simplest way of accom¬ 
plishing this, but curiously enough it fails utterly. For a view 
must be more than there to give us the full benefit of its beauty; 
it must be there-for-our-benefit and something must be done to 
make us feel this, to assure us unmistakably that this is so, as we 
look out upon it. It must be incorporated into the place from 
which we behold it. 
The one thing which accomplishes this very much to be desired 
result—the thing that is the key to success in this phase of tree 
and shrub planting—is the thing that is generally overlooked and 
unsuspected. Yet it is so important that it cannot be over¬ 
estimated nor over-emphasized. Briefly it is this: the dominant 
line in a view must dominate the planting which carries the eye 
to that view. In other words, the lines along which the planting 
carries the vision must be made harmonious with the object which 
ultimately meets that vision—must be what someone has very 
aptly termed “eye sweet.” 
At first glance this may seem impossible, in some instances 
anyway. For example, how is the vision to be carried straight 
ahead by means of lines that conform to a sea horizon? Certainly 
Here is a masterful harmony between terrace wall, river and sky line, 
the whole embodying the perfection of dignity and repose 
the dominating line of that is horizontal; and a horizontal line 
is at a direct right angle with the line of vision as one looks out 
to sea. 
True enough, nevertheless the vision travels straight to the 
seascape over broad lines of planting which sweep to left or right, 
or both, in lines that are generally horizontal, much more swiftly 
and directly than it does where an effort is made to actually 
carry it forward with lines of planting that run against the horizon. 
The rule holds because, as a matter of fact, the planting cannot 
force the vision through tunnels or along ruts or ridges of green; 
it can only persuade it and lead it on. It is a matter of suggestion, 
not coercion. And successful suggestion always presents but the 
one idea—it offers not the subtlest hint of a resistant force or, in 
this instance, direction. The idea in the case just cited is all 
breadth and expansion, and nothing should occur to distract 
the mind, through the eye, from this. 
A view that follows a valley requires “planting in” on pre¬ 
cisely the same principle—that is on the lines of the valley whether 
they be oblique to the view point, or horizontal, or straight away; 
similarly a view of field or mountain or stream must determine, 
by the line which dominates it, just how the vision shall be helped 
along the way. 
I have yet to find an instance where the rule does not apply— 
and it not only includes the prospect within your own domain 
legitimately, but it emphasizes its presence there, and by this 
emphasis enhances its value to the whole. Consciously or uncon- 
A planting plan for a screen group 200 feet long. 1 , Austrian pines; 
2 , Hemlocks; 3 , White Birch; 4 , Lombardy Poplars; 5 , Mountain 
Ash; 6 , Shrub groups 
sciously the artist makes use of it in a landscape, and views that 
give a sense of complete satisfaction will be found to measure 
up to the standard which it furnishes. 
Happily circumstances require the planting of barren tracts 
to create vistas rather more often than they do the cutting out 
of Nature’s growth to clear them—happily at least for some of us. 
I doubt if many who love outdoors and all that lives outdoors, 
can see a tree felled without a shivering pang of regret. I am 
perfectly free to confess that I cannot—yet it is quite as impor¬ 
tant to eliminate vegetation under some conditions as it is to 
preserve it under others. But let there be no uncertainty about 
when to do which—for the hour in which a tree may be laid low 
is tragically brief compared to the half a hundred years or so it 
may have been growing. 
When circumstances force a choice between trees and a view, 
and it is the only view, choose it every time—unless there is chance 
for an interloper to come between and steal it from you at some 
future day. Settle this beyond a doubt; never open a vista that 
may end in an eye-sore some day, through a neighbor’s freak or 
folly or indifference. 
But do make as much of the world your own as you can, right 
down to the rim. There is soul expansion in living with a horizon, 
either of land or sea, and trees that hide it are cheating you of 
something you cannot afford to be without—something right¬ 
fully yours. Condemn them and take them out without com¬ 
punction—their room is better than their company—though it 
may hurt to see them go. 
