Kensington Gardens form an eminently beautiful piece of artificial
woodland and park scenery. The old palace of Kensington, now inhabited
by the Duchess of Inverness, stands at one extremity; an edifice of no
great mark, built of brick, covering much ground, and low in proportion
to its extent. In front of it, at a considerable distance, there is a
sheet of water; and in all directions there are vistas of wide paths
among noble trees, standing in groves, or scattered in clumps; everything
being laid out with free and generous spaces, so that you can see long
streams of sunshine among the trees, and there is a pervading influence
of quiet and remoteness. Tree does not interfere with tree; the art of
man is seen conspiring with Nature, as if they had consulted together how
to make a beautiful scene, and had taken ages of quiet thought and tender
care to accomplish it. We strolled slowly along these paths, and
sometimes deviated from them, to walk beneath the trees, many of the
leaves of which lay beneath our feet, yellow and brown, and with a
pleasant smell of vegetable decay. These were the leaves of
chestnut-trees; the other trees (unless elms) have yet, hardly begun to
shed their foliage, although you can discern a sober change of line in
the woodland masses; and the trees individualize themselves by assuming
each its own tint, though in a very modest way. If they could have
undergone the change of an American autumn, it would have been like
putting on a regal robe.
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