Just now we note much being said against the use of knife or shears on ornamental trees and shrubs. There are some who would not cut a tree under any circumstances. Everything should be natural. There can be no greater advocate of nature, or perhaps it would be best to say of natural ways in gardening, than the Gardeners' Monthly. What has been termed the topiary art - the trimming of trees and bushes to resemble everything under the sun - was pushed to extremes. But without great violence being done to true taste, some such art may surely be permitted. We all like a neatly trimmed box edging wherever it is proper to have an edging of box at all, and the neatly trimmed live fence or hedge is also agreeable. If, now, we allow some of the trees of which the hedge is composed to grow up and form a neatly-trimmed arch over a gateway, we cannot see wherein good taste is seriously violated. In the Tower Grove Park at St. Louis the music-stand is surrounded by a grove of osage orange, which is sheared so as to allow numerous gothic openings through the walls. One might say if a wall is wanted, why not make it of boards or stone at once? But nothing will equal the luxury of sitting under a leafy bower, while the air is actually cooled by passing through the foliage.

To our mind, this foliage room, with its numerous window openings, is one of the many successes of this pretty park. Take, even, some gardens which have been criticised; as, for instance, the Italian garden at Wellesley, where nearly everything is cut to some form or other, while a whole garden served in this way would be almost intolerable, as a contrast to other parts it is peculiarly pleasurable, and it is doubtful whether the many landscape pleasures of these famous grounds would be half as enjoyable without the Italian garden. While the universal cropping and shearing which often takes place at this season gives good excuse to those who write down the entire use of the knife in this way, the better course will probably be to use the knife judiciously. The rule of good taste is expression. If we were to find a tree or shrub growing entirely naturally, and taking on some singular shape, there is no doubt it would be as much an object of interest as profile rocks against mountain sides, or the features of scenery in the great caves.

Just how far art may help these appearances good taste must suggest.

In like manner there is rebellion against carpet bedding, and the formal arrangement of flowers in masses, or in beds of formal shape. Of course this is often pushed to the extreme, but when we see hundreds of thousands enjoying them, it is evident there must be an underlying element of natural feeling somewhere beneath such an edifice of art. It will probably be a long while before this style of gardening is abandoned. There are some figures for flower beds which look out of character. The figures should harmonize with the surroundings. For a circular spot there are few things prettier than the old "Dropmore Pear beds." In old times this "Dropmore flower garden" was popular for affording masses of four different kinds. The walks between the four pear-shaped beds were of grass or shells, or small cobble-stones. Since carpet-bedding, a close form of mosaic work has become popular, the walks are made with stone-crops, or kinds of house-leeks, or of some kind of neutral colored leaf plant. Besides this a border of some other color is placed round the whole thing, which gives it a pretty finish.

We give with this an illustration of what we mean.

The straight lines are only temporary, to aid the drawing of the figures desired on the ground. To make the larger circle of the pear-shaped outline the compass or string has one end placed at b. For the two smaller circles at a and c.