garden. But a plot of ground, however small, in which the objects (many or few, according to its size and the style which it assumes) are designed, selected, and combined with artistic views of their natures and relations, so that, in whatever aspect the spectator may behold them, he receives a sense of delight, arising not only from the beauty of the individual objects, but heightened by the harmonious relations which they bear to each other, is truly a garden.

The objects which may enter into the combination of a garden are quite numerous; but, for our present purpose, they may be divided into two classes, the natural and the artificial. Of the natural objects are flowers, shrubs, trees, walks, turf or grass, and water in its various forms; all of which in a garden must be made amenable to the laws of harmony and contrast which govern the design. Of the artificial objects are gateways, terraces, steps, balustrades, vases, fountains, basins, statues, pavilions, &c.; all of which in a garden should be in the most exquisite taste of which the style selected is capable.

It is the purpose of the present article to treat of the artificial objects which may enter into the composition of a garden, under the head of "Garden Architecture ;" all these objects coming within the province of the architect to design and arrange. It is obvious, that, as the use of a garden is to delight, it should, as far as possible, be so designed as never to present a disagreeable aspect; never to call up unpleasant ideas and associations; never to suggest unhappy trains of thought. Now, the natural objects which enter into the composition of a garden are constantly changing: with many of them their beauty buds and blooms, and wanes to decay. It is the business of the gardener so to plant, arrange, tend, and dress the plants and flowers, that this constant change will, as much as possible, lend beauty to the garden; as little as possible give to the natural transitions the signs of decline and death and it is the business of the architect so to design and combine the artificial objects, that they may add to the beauty of the garden when the natural objects with which they are surrounded are in the prime and plenitude of their beauty, and leave as little as possible to be desired by the lover of beauty when both leaf and flower have withered and decayed. Many artificial objects which are generally considered as peculiarly in place in a garden are thus at once seen to be properly excluded. Of these

objects are what are called "rustic summer-houses," "rustic fences," "rustic gates," "rustic steps," and lath and clapboard trellisses, arcades, and pavilions, with many others which we shall meet in our progress; in general, all objects which have an unfinished and temporary look, and all which, like "rustic steps," so called, suggest the idea of rottenness and decay. These things are all well enough in their places. A rustic summer-house is very well as an accompaniment to a gate-keeper's lodge or a rural retreat; but it is not fit for a garden. A shingle and clapboard pavilion will answer very well for a "cottage ornée," in the "carpenter's Gothic" style, or for a "bier garten;" but it is quite unsuited to a garden.

It is proper to specify that by rustic summer-houses are meant those which are built of logs and cat-sticks unstripped of their bark, and with their rough arms but half amputated; which catch you by the garments as you go in, fray them when you sit down, and tear them from you when you rise to go out; which, in the rough sinuosities of the bark, afford eligible habitations, breeding-places, and retreats for innumerable insects; over which beetles delight to clamber; and which are the nearest approach to a paradise that a spider can comprehend. These are as unsuited to a garden, as the primitive log-hut, from which they are directly descended, is well suited to a "hard-cider campaign," and should be forever banished. There is, however, a kind of rustic edifice which may be used to advantage in a certain kind of a garden, to which we shall come by and by.

All artificial objects in a garden should have the appearance of both elegance and stability. Summer-houses or pavilions should look as if they could outlast the winter, without being disintegrated by frost, or blown away by the wind and they should not present the appearance of being the especial homes of bugs and spiders; for ladies should be able to go into them and sit down, dressed in silks or muslins, as they would go into a drawingroom, of which a garden pavilion may be regarded as a sort of out-door synonyme.

As the garden is and should be an adjunct to the house, communicating directly with it, and having for its purpose to add to the delight of its occupants, it should be laid out, and all its details should be designed, in reference to it. From the house, the garden should always present an aspect

of beauty: its pathways should attract the beholder from the drawing-room or parlor, hall or boudoir, to wander amid their beauties; its fountains and terraces should invite him to linger beside and upon them; its grottoes and pavilions should allure him to rest beneath their protection. From the house, it should be but a step, as it were, to the garden; and the garden should be so arranged, that this step should not only be direct and natural, but should give at the first glance a general insight into its beauties, and excite the desire to explore and admire them. It is, then, of the greatest importance how the garden is approached from the house.

As a general rule, the approach to the garden from the house should be not directly from an apartment like the drawing or sitting room, but by a hall, vestibule, or ante-room specially designed for the purpose; for while every view of the garden should present beautiful features, and especially so every view from the house, it would be destructive of the privacy generally desired in the apartments of a dwelling-house to have the chief entrance, or even an important entrance, to the garden opening from one of them. This objection, however, might not be felt in some cases at all, especially in a house used only as a summer residence; and there would probably always be a choice of the apartment to be made the vestibule to the garden, should it be desired to avoid having a hall or ante-room especially for the purpose. Moreover, it is necessary in almost every design to husband the resources of art, and concentrate them upon the principal features. This principle, however, is subject in practice to great modifications, arising from the peculiar circumstances of each case, the situation and extent of the grounds; the size of the house and its apartments; the use of the dwelling, whether it be for a mere summer residence or a permanent dwelling-place. These, and a variety of other conditions, would determine in what way the entrance or entrances to the garden from the house should be designed and arranged. If, for instance, the house were merely a summer residence, the garden-front on an extended scale, the garden itself large and varied, and it were practicable to have a path and vista opening opposite a window of each of the principal apartments, the windows of the garden-front might be French casements carried to the floor; and thus from each apartment there would be an entrance or entrances to the garden. But, even in such a case, it is extremely doubtful whether it would not be better to preserve

the privacy of the apartments, and, by making an open arcade or colonnade in the centre of the garden-front, give an entrance to the garden which would be at once elegant, commodious, and convenient of access to the different apartments. Every architect would certainly give this method the preference, as it would add to the dignity of his design; and it is the practice sanctioned by all the great masters of the art. It may then be regarded as the rule, that the entrance to the garden from the house should be by a vestibule, hall, or ante-room, designed expressly for the purpose; and that any departure from this rule should be justified by peculiar cir

The garden-entrance, in whatever shape or style it may be designed, should not be highly elevated from the ground. A high basement has the disagreeable effect of cutting off the house from the grounds; whereas it should, in every possible way, be connected, and made to harmonize with. them. At the same time, the house should be so set as not to appear too low when viewed at a distance; and the most natural and at the same time elegant way to avoid this is to set the house up by means of a terrace, making not more than three steps from the terrace into the house.

Terraces are of two kinds; the first a level, with an earth-slope leading to a lower level. This is the original form, a simple embankment to make a high level on a long inclination of ground.

UPPER LEVEL

SLOPE

The other is a level terminated and kept in place by a wall, with a rail or balustrade on top. This is a highly ornamental, architectural feature, capable of great modifications in treatment, and of producing varied and beautiful effects. The cut shows a section of this kind of terrace.

If the house is simple and unpretending in its design, the first kind of terrace would be appropriate, and the descent to the lower level would be by a flight of steps without a rail or balustrade, but which might be decorated with vases, designed, perhaps, to hold flowers. If, on the contrary, the house is much decorated in its character, the terrace and its accompaniments must be designed to correspond. A more complete consideration of terraces and their accompanying features must be reserved for the next number. Hammatt Billings.