all the trees and
strip the land at once, with an eye to immediate profit. The more
conservative, and, in the end, the more profitable management,
consists in selecting and cutting out the valuable timber when it has
matured, leaving the younger growth for future use. This process is
not very harmful to the landscape. It is practiced extensively in
Maine, where the art of managing forests with a view to profit is
better understood than elsewhere in this country. A fair amount
of good timber may thus be drawn from the White Mountains, without
impairing their value as the permanent source of a vastly greater
income from the attraction they will offer to an increasing influx
of tourists. At the same time the streams flowing from them, and
especially the Pemigewasset, a main source of the Merrimac, will be
saved from the alternate droughts and freshets to which all streams
are exposed that take their rise in mountains denuded of forests. The
subject is one of the last importance to the mill owners along these
rivers.

_F. Parkman._

Landscape Gardening.--A Definition.

Some of the Fine Arts appeal to the ear, others to the eye. The
latter are the Arts of Design, and they are usually named as
three--Architecture, Sculpture and Painting. A man who practices one
of these in any of its branches is an artist; other men who work with
forms and colors are at the best but artisans. This is the popular
belief. But in fact there is a fourth art which has a right to be
rated with the others, which is as fine as the finest, and which
demands as much of its professors in the way of creative power and
executive skill as the most difficult. This is the art whose purpose
it is to create beautiful compositions upon the surface of the ground.

The mere statement of its purpose is sufficient to establish its rank.
It is the effort to produce organic beauty--to compose a beautiful
whole with a number of related parts--which makes a man an artist;
neither the production of a merely useful organism nor of a single
beautiful detail suffices. A clearly told story or a single beautiful
word is not a work of art--only a story told in beautifully connected
words. A solidly and conveniently built house, if it is nothing more,
is not a work of architecture, nor is an isolated stone, however
lovely in shape and surface. A delightful tint, a graceful line, does
not make a picture; and though the painter may reproduce ugly models
he must pu