The hedge, however wide-bottomed, is his fence; and fencing he must have.

But these trees, arising at narrow intervals from the hedge, and spreading out their deadening shades upon his wheatfields on either side, are not useful nor ornamental to him.
They may look prettily, and make a nice picture in the eyes of the sentimental tourist or traveller, but he grudges the ground they cover.

He could well afford to pay the landlord an additional rentage per annum more than equal to the money value of the yearly growth of these trees.

Besides, the landlord has, in all probability, a large park of trees around his mansion, and perhaps compact plantations on land unsuited to agriculture.

Thus the high value of these hedge-row trees around the fields of his tenant, which he will realise on the spot, together with some additional pounds in rent annually to himself and heirs, would probably facilitate this levelling arrangement in face of all the restrictions that the law of entail might seem to throw in the way.
If, therefore, the hedges of England disappear before the noiseless and furtive progress of utilitarian science, the trees that rise above them in such picturesque ranks will be almost certain to go with them.