Undoubtedly the most beautiful of all the parks is Waterlow, the munificent gift of Sir Sydney Waterlow. Its situation near Highgate, above all City smoke; its steep slopes and fine trees; its old garden and historic associations, combine to give it a character and a charm of its own. It is small in comparison with such parks as Victoria, Battersea, or Finsbury, being only 29 acres, but it has a fascination quite out of proportion to its size. There are few pleasanter spots on a summer’s day, and at any season of the year it would well repay a visit. It is especially attractive when the great city with its domes and towers is seen clearly at the foot of the hill. London from a distance never looks hard and sharp and clear, like some foreign towns. The buildings do not stand up in definite outline like the churches of Paris looked down upon from the Eiffel Tower: the soft curtain of smoke, the mysterious blue light, a gentle reminder of orange and black fog, shrouds and beautifies everything it touches. On a June day, when the grass is vivid and the trees a bright pale green, Waterlow Park is at its best. The dome of St. Paul’s, the countless towers of Wren’s city churches, the pinnacles of the Law Courts, the wonderful Tower Bridge, dwarfing the old Norman White Tower, all appear in softened beauty behind the fresh verdure, through well-contrived peeps and gaps in the trees. Most of the ground is too steep for the cricket and football to which the greater part of other parks are given over. Only lawn tennis and bowls can be provided for, on the green lawns at the top of the Park. A delightful old pond, with steep banks overshadowed by limes and chestnuts, has a feeling of the real country about it. The concrete edges, the little patches of aquatic plants and neat turf, are missing. The banks show signs of last year’s leaves, fallen sticks, and blackened chestnuts, and any green near it, is only natural wild plants that enjoy shade and moisture. It is the sort of place a water-hen would feel at home in, and not expect to meet intruding Mandarin ducks or Canadian geese. Let us hope this quiet spot may long remain untouched. There are two newer lakes lower down, laid out in approved County Council style, trim and neat, with water-fowl, water-lilies, and judicious planting round the banks of weeping willows and rhododendron clumps. Probably many visitors find them more attractive than the upper pool. There is no fault to find with them, and they are perhaps more suited to a public park, but they are devoid of the poetry which raises the other out of the commonplace. As the slopes towards the lower lakes are the playground of multitudes of babies, it is necessary to protect them from the water’s edge by substantial railings, but most of the Park is singularly free from these unsightly but often necessary safeguards. The trees all through the grounds are unusually fine. Four hickories are particularly worthy of note. They are indeed grand and