English Jandscape. ” “On' the’ othér hand the’ Italian; ‘living in’ a hot 
climate, seeks to be led into the open air by insensible gradations and 
unobserved intervals. His garden is to a considerable extent an arti- 
tectural creation. His terraces and balustrades form rooms in the open 
air, without walls or roof. ‘The powerful sun which burns up his Grass 
creates a necessity for shade, and instead of ‘distributing his trees in 
clumps over a lawn, he plants them in rectangular rows, so that by the 
meeting of their branches they may make a sun-proof canopy. As the 
light falls.in monotonous sheets froma cloudless and dazzling sky, he 
contrives by salient- projections, by walls, vases, balustrades, statues, 
and by. thick- foliaged trees, like Pines and Cypresses, to produce strong 
shadows, and thus modify. the, general glare. For the same reason— 
the. prevalence of heat and sunshine—fountains are added, if not to cool 
the air, to awaken dreams of coolness, and refresh the thoughts, if not 
the senses. We, English, have not dealt fairly with Italian landscape 
gardening, nor judged it with reference to ends proposed to be accom- 
lished by it. Their “groves nodding at groves,” their paternal alleys, 
their formal, walls of verdure, are not caricatures of nature, introduced 
from a perverse preference of what is quaint and fantastic, but simply 
such a direction and use of the energies of nature as shall’ produce - 
certain results which are required by the climate, and which shall so 
blend with the features of the palace or villa as. to producé an archi- 
tectural whole, English summers are frequently like those of Italy— 
our winter, Siberian. Skilfully to combine the English and the Italian 
methods would realise what Addison, in the ‘‘ Spectator,” so admirably 
advocates. He says—‘‘I have often wondered that those who, like 
myself, love to live in gardens, have never thought of contriving a winter 
garden, which would consist of such, trees only as never cast their leaves. 
We have often little snatches of sunshine and fair weather in the most 
uncomfortable parts of the year, and have frequently several days in 
November and J anuary that are as agreeable as any in the finest 
months, At such times, therefore, I think there could not be a greater 
pleasure than to walk in such a winter garden. In the summer season 
the whole country blooms and is a kind of garden, for which reason we 
are not. so sensible of those beauties that at this time may be every- 
where met with ; but when nature is in her desolation, and presents us 
with nothing but bleak and. barren prospects, there’ ‘is something 
unspeakably cheerful in a spot of ground which is covered with trees, 
that smile amidst all the rigours of winter, and gives us a view of the 
most gay tgs in the iuidst of that which is most dead and 
melancholy.”"* 
Since Addison wrote,.in 1712, now nearly 150. years ago, so many 
new plants. have been introduced from Japan and other countries, 
eligible for the formation of winter gardens, so many shrubs with bril! 
liantly variegated leaves and bright berry bearing clusters, that effects 
might be produced that would gratify all beholders. Glass is now so 
cheap, and modes of economising fuel so well understood, that at but 
little cost a coyered space for exotics might be realised by all who love 

* «+ Spectator,” No. 477. 
