effect of several hills. That nearest to the house shelves cently under an open grove of noble trees, which hand on the declivity, and advance beyond it on the plain. The next is a large hill, pressing forward, and covered with wood from the top to the botton. The third is a bold steep with a thicket falling down the steenest part, which makes it appear still more precipitate: but the rest of the slope is bare; only the brow is crowned with wood, and towards the botton is a little groupe of trees. These heights, thus finely characterised in themselves, are further distinguished by their appendages. The small, compact groupe near the foot, but still on the descent, of the further h 11, is contrasted by a large straccling clump, some way out upon the lawn, before the middle eminence Between this and the first hill, under two or three trees which cross the opening, is seen to great advantage a winding glade, which rises beyond them, and marks the separation. This deep recess, the different distances to which the hills advance, the contrast in their forms, and their accompaniments, cast the plain on this side into a most beautiful figure. The other side and the end were originally the flat edge of a descont, a harsh, offensive tormin tion; but it is now broken by several hillocks, not diminutive in size, and considerable by the fine clumps w ich distinguish t'em. They recede one beyond another, and the outline waves aCreeably amongst them. They do more than conceal the sharpness of the edre; they convert a deformity into a beauty, ani greatly contribute to the embellishment of this most lovely scene; a scene however, in which the flat is principal; and yet a more v ried, a ore beautiful landskip, can hardly be desired in a garden.*

One of the first gardens planted in this simple though still formal style, was my father's at Houghton. It was laid out by 'r. Eyre, an imitator of Bridgnian. It contains three-and-twenty acres, then reckoned a considerable portion.

I call a sunk fence the leading step, for these reasons. No sooner was this simple enchantment made, than levelling, mowing, and rolling followed. The contiguous round of the park without the sunk fonce was to be harmonized with the lawn within; and the garden in its turn was to be set free from its prin regularity, that it Light assort with the wilder country without. The sunk fence ascertained the specific garden, but that it might not draw too obvious a line of distinction betw on the neat and the rude, the contiguous out-lying parts came to be included in a kind of general design: and when nature was taken into the plan, under improvements, every step that was made pointed out new beauties, and inspired new ideas. at that moment appeared lent, painter enough to taste the charms of landskip, bold and opionative enough to dare and to dictate and born with a genius to strike out a great system from the twilight of i perfect essays. He leaped the fence, and saw that all nature was a garden. He felt the delicious contrast of hill and va loy changing imperceptibly into each other, tasted the beauty of the gentle swell, or concave scoop, and remarked how loose roves crowned an easy e..inence with happy ornament, and while they called in the distant view between their graceful stems, removed and extended the perspective by d 1 sive compari

son.

Thus the pencil of his imagination bestowed all the arts of landskip on the fences he handled. "he great principles on which he worked were pers pective, and light and shade. roupes of trees broke too uniform or too extensive a lawn; evergreens and woods were ppposed to the glare of the champain, and where the view was less fortunate, or so rich exposed as to be beheld at once, he blotted out so e parts by thick shades, to divide it into variety, or to make the richest scene more enchanting by reserving it to a farther advance of the spectator's step. Thus selecting favourite objects, and veiling deformities by screens of plantatio