which must always be little, appears ftill lefs by making an ifland in it *. In forming plans for embellishing a field, an artist without tafte deals in ftraight lines, circles, fquares; because these fhow best upon paper. He perceives not, that to humour and adorn nature is the perfection of his art; and that nature, neglecting regularity, reacheth fuperior beauties by distributing her objects in great variety with a bold hand. A large field laid out with ftrict regularity, is ftiff and artificial. Nature indeed, in organized bodies comprehended under one view, ftudies regularity; which, for the fame reafon, ought to be studied in architecture: but in large objects, which cannot otherwise be furveyed than in parts and by fucceffion, regularity and uniformity would be useless properties, because they cannot be discovered by the eye t. Nature therefore, in her large works, neglects these properties; and in copying nature, the artift ought to neglect them. Having thus far carried on a comparison between gardening and architecture, I proceed to rules peculiar to each; beginning with gardening. The fimpleft idea of a garden, is that of a fpot *See appendix to chap. 2. part. 5. A fquare field appears not fuch to the eye when viewed from any part of it; and the centre is the only place where a circular field preferves in appearance its regular figure. embellished embellished with a number of natural objects, trees, walks, polish'd parterres, flowers, ftreams, &c. One more complex comprehends ftatues and buildings, that nature and art may be mutually ornamental. A third approaching nearer perfection, is of objects affembled together, in order to produce, not only an emotion of beauty, effential to every garden, but also fome other particular emotion, grandeur, for example, gaiety, or any other of thofe above mentioned. The most perfect idea of a garden is an improvement upon the third, requiring the feveral parts to be arranged in fuch a manner, as to inspire all the different emotions that can be raised by gardening. In this idea of a garden, the arrangement is an important circumftance; for it has been shown, that fome emotions figure beft in conjunction, and that others ought always to appear in fucceffion and never in conjunction. It is mentioned above*, that when the most oppofite emotions, fuch as gloominefs and gaiety, ftillness and activity, follow each other in fucceffion, the pleasure on the whole will be the greateft; but that such emotions ought not to be united, because they produce an unpleasant mixture t. For that reason, a ruin, affording a fort of melancholy pleasure, ought not to be seen from a flower-parterre, which is gay and chearful but to pafs from an exhilarating object to + Chap. 2. part 4 Chap. 8. a ruin, has a fine effect; for each of the emotions is the more fenfibly felt by being contrafted with the other. Similar emotions, on the other hand, fuch as gaiety and sweetness, ftillness and gloominefs, motion and grandeur, ought to be raised together; for their effects upon the mind are greatly. heightened by their conjunction *. Kent's method of embellishing a field, is admirable; which is, to paint a field with beautiful objects, natural and artificial, difpofed like colours upon a canvas. It requires indeed more genius to paint in the gardening way: in forming a landscape upon a canvas, no more is required but to adjust the figures to each other: an artist who lays out ground in Kent's manner, has an additional tafk; he ought to adjuft his figures to the feveral varieties of the field. One garden must be diftinguished from a plurality; and yet it is not obvious wherein the unity of a garden confifts. A notion of unity is indeed fuggefted from viewing a garden furrounding a palace, with views from each window, and walks leading to every corner: but there may be a garden without a houfe; in which case, I muft pronounce, that what makes it one garden, is the unity of defign, every single spot appearing part of a whole. The gardens of Versailles, properly expreffed in the plural number, being no fewer than fixteen, are indeed all of them con See the place immediately above cited. nected nected with the palace, but have scarce any mutual connection: they appear not like parts of one whole, but rather like finall gardens in contiguity. Were thefe gardens at fome diftance from each other, they would have a better effect their junction breeds confufion of ideas, and upon the whole gives lefs pleasure than would be felt in a flower fucceffion. Regularity is required in that part of a garden which joins the dwelling-house; for being confidered as a more immediate acceffory, it ought to partake the regularity of the principal object *: but in proportion to the distance from the house confidered as the centre, regularity ought lefs The influence of this connection furpaffing all bounds, is vifible in many gardens, remaining to this day, formed of horizontal plains forc'd with great labour and expence, perpendicular faces of earth fupported with maffy ftone walls, terrace-walks in fta. ges one above another, regular ponds and canals without the least motion, and the whole furrounded, like a prifon, with high walls excluding every external object. At first view it may puzzle one to account for a taste running cross to nature in every particular. But nothing happens without a cause. Perfect regularity and uniformity are required in a house; and this idea is extended to its accessory the garden, especially if it be a small spot incapable of grandeur or much variety: the house is regular, fo muft the garden be; the floors of the house are horizontal, and the garden must have the fame pofition; in the house we are every intruding eye, fo muft we be in the garden. protected from This, it must be confeffed, is carrying the notion of resemblance very far: but where reason and taste are laid asleep, nothing is more common than to carry resemblance beyond proper bounds. VOL. II. Ee and and lefs to be ftudied; for in an extenfive plan, it hath a fine effect to lead the mind infenfibly from regularity to a bold variety. Such arrangement tends to make an impreffion of grandeur and grandeur ought to be studied as much as poffible, even in a more confined plan, by avoiding a multiplicity of small parts *. A finall garden, on the other hand, which admits not grandeur, ought to be strictly regular. Milton, defcribing the garden of Eden, prefers justly the grand taste to that of regularity: Flowers worthy of paradife, which not nice art Paradife Loft, b. 4. An hill, by being covered with trees, appears both more beautiful and more lofty; provided no other beauties be hid that might be feen if the hill were naked. To diftribute trees in a plain requires more art: near the dwelling-house they ought to be fo thin, as not to break the unity of the field; and even at the greatest distance of diftinct vifion, they ought never to be fo crowded as to hide any beautiful object. In the manner of planting a wood or thicket, * See chap. 4. much |
