e 
 
 ^*r> 
 

 
 ^ 
 
 
 '*f*A* 
 
 '^^-ii^rr^ 
 
 
J^. ;,?■**/>. 
 
 —* 
 
 «• 
 
 
> 
 
 s* 
 
 X 
 
 ^ 
 
 •-. » 
 
 
 V- 
 
 
 X v 
 
 
 3 * 
 
 
THE 
 
 ENGLISH GARDEN 
 
 A 
 
 POEM. 
 
 I N 
 
 FOUR BOOKS. 
 
 By W. M A S O N, M. A. 
 A New Edition, corre&ed. 
 
 To which are added 
 A 
 
 COMMENTARY and NOTES, 
 ByW.BURG H, Efqj'LL. D. 
 
 A GARDEN IS THE PUREST OF HUMAN PLEASURES; IT 13 
 THE GREATEST REFRESHMENT TO THE SPIRITS OF 
 MAN, WITHOUT WHICH BUILDINGS AND PALACES ARE 
 BUT GROSS HANDY-WORKS. AND A MAN SHALL EVER 
 SEE, THAT WHEN AGES GROW TO CIVILITY AND ELE- 
 GANCE, MEN COME TO BUILD STATELY, SOONER THAN 
 TO GARDEN FINELY: AS IF GARDENING WERE THE 
 GREATER PERFECTION. 
 
 VE R UL AM. 
 
 YORK, PRINTED BY A. WARD: 
 
 And fold by J. Dodsley, Tall-Mall ; T. Cadell, in the 
 Strand; and R. Faulder, in New Bond-Street, Lou- 
 don; and J. Todd, in York. 1783. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 Research Library, The Getty Research Institute 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/englishgardenpoeOOmaso 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 AS the Four Books, which compofe the 
 following Poem, were published origi- 
 nally at very diftant intervals, I thought it 
 expedient at the conclufion of the laft to fub- 
 join a Poftfcript, in which I drew up an Ana- 
 lyfis of each of them in their order, that the 
 general plan of the whole work, and their 
 connection with one another, might be more 
 accurately conceived. That fnort analyfis is 
 now withdrawn, being fuperfeded by a copious 
 and complete Commentary, which the parti- 
 ality of a very ingenious and learned friend has 
 induced him to write upon it -, a work which 
 I am perfuaded will be of more utility to thole 
 readers, who wifh to understand the fubjecl:, 
 than the Poem itfelf will be of entertain- 
 ment to that more numerous clafs who read 
 merely to be entertained : For myfelf, as to 
 amufe was only a fecondary motive with me 
 when I compofed the work, I freely own 
 a that 
 
17 PREFACE. 
 
 that I am more pleafed by a fpecies of writing 
 which tends to elucidate the Principles of my 
 Poem, and to develope its method, than I 
 fhould have been with that more flattering, 
 yet lefs ufeful one, which interefted itfelf in 
 difplaying what little poetical merit it may 
 poffefs. 
 
 Notwithstanding this, I am well aware that 
 many perfons will think my friend has taken 
 much more pains than were neceiTary on this 
 pccafion •, and I mould agree with them in 
 opinion were the Poem only, and not the Sub- 
 ject which it treats, in queftion : But I would 
 wifh them to difcriminate between thefe two 
 points, and that whatever they may think of 
 the writer's condefcenfion in commenting 
 ib largely on the one, they would give him 
 credit for the great additional illuftration 
 which he has thrown upon the other. 
 
 Yet as to the Poem itfelf, I am not with- 
 out my hopes, that in this new Edition I 
 
 have 
 
P R E F A C E. v 
 
 have rendered it fomewhat more worthy of 
 the pains which its Commentator has be- 
 llowed upon it, and of that approbation 
 which it has already obtained from a very 
 refpectable part of the public ; having re- 
 vifed it very carefully throughout, and 
 purged it, to the beft of my abilities, of 
 many defects in the prior editions. That 
 original Sin, however, which the admirers 
 of Rhyme, and of Rhyme only, have laid to 
 its charge, I have (till ventured to retain : To 
 this fault I muft ftill own myfelf fo blind, 
 that in defence of it I fnall again, reprint 
 what I faid befoj£ in my former Poftfcript, 
 and make it the conclufion of my prefent 
 Preface. 
 
 w When I firft had the fubject in contempla- 
 tion, I found it admitted of two very different 
 modes of compofition : One was that of the 
 regular Didactic Poem, of which the Geor- 
 gics of Virgil afford fo perfect an example ; 
 
 the 
 
vi P R E F A C E. 
 
 the other that of the preceptive epiltolary 
 effay, the model of which Horace has given 
 in his Epiftles Ad Auguftum and ad Pifones. I 
 balanced lbme time which of thefe I mould 
 adopt, for both had their peculiar merit. 
 The former opened a more ample field for 
 pi&urefque defcription and poetical embel- 
 lilhment •, the latter was more calculated to 
 convey exac"l precept in concife phrafe*. 
 
 The 
 
 * See Mr. Pope's account of his dsjigti in writing the Effay 
 on Man, where the peculiar merit of that way, in which 
 he fo greatly excelled, is mod happily explained. He 
 chofe, as he fays, " Verfe, and even R.hyme, for two rea- 
 fons : Verfe, becaufe precepts, fo written, fhike more 
 ffrongly, and are retained more eafily : Rhyme, becaufe it 
 exprciTes arguments or inftruclions more concifely than 
 even Profe itfelf." As I have lately, in the Preface to 
 my Tranfiation of Frefnoy's Art of Painting, made ufe of 
 this very reafon for tranflating that Poem into Rhyme, 
 fome fUperBrial readers may think that I hereby contradict 
 myfel£; but the judicious critic will refer Frefnoy's Poem 
 to Horace's Art of Pcetry as to its proper architype, and 
 rightly deem it, though not an epiftolary, yet a preceptive 
 EJfay. "Whereas the prefent work comes uuder that 
 fpecies cf compofition which has the Georgia of Virgil for 
 its origin;:!, than which no two modes of writing ca.: be 
 more diflimiltir. 
 
PREFACE. vii 
 
 The one furnifhed better means of illuftrating 
 my fubjedt, and the other of defining it -, the 
 former admitted thoie ornaments only which 
 refulted from lively imagery and 'figurative 
 diction •, the latter feemed rather to require 
 the feafoning of wit and fatire ; this, there- 
 fore, appeared befl- calculated to expofe falfe 
 tafte, and that to elucidate the true. But 
 falfe tafte, on this fubjec~t, had been fo in- 
 imitably ridiculed by Mr. Pope, in his 
 Epiftle to Lord Burlington, that it feemed 
 to preclude all other authors (at lead it pre- 
 cluded me) from touching it after him; 
 and therefore, as he had left much unfaid on 
 that part of the art on which it was my pur- 
 pofe principally to enlarge, I thought the 
 didactic method not only more open but 
 more proper for my attempt. This matter 
 once determined, I did not hefitate as to my 
 choice between blank verfc and rhyme ; be- 
 caufe it clearly appeared, that numben of 
 the mod varied kind were mofl proper to 
 
 illu urate 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 illuftrate a fubject whofe every charm fprings 
 from variety, and which, painting Nature as 
 /corning control, mould employ a verfiflcation 
 for that end as unfettered as Nature itfelf. 
 Art at the fame time, in rural improvements, 
 pervading the province of Nature, unfeen, 
 and unfelt, feemed to bear a finking analogy 
 to that fpecies of verfe, the harmony of 
 which refults from meafured quantity and 
 varied cadence, without the too fludied ar- 
 rangement of final fyllables, or regular re- 
 turn of confonant founds. I was, notwith- 
 flanding, well aware, that by choofing to 
 write in blank verfe, I fhould not court po- 
 pularity, becaufe 1 perceived it was growing 
 much out of vogue ; but this reafon, as 
 may be fuppofed, did not weigh much with 
 a writer, who meant to combat Fafhion in 
 the very theme he intended to write upon ; 
 and who was alio convinced that a mode of 
 Englifh verification, in which c o many good 
 poems, with Paradife Loft at their head, 
 
 have 
 
PREFACE. ix 
 
 have been written, could either not Ions 
 continue unfafhionable •, or if it did, that 
 Faihion had fo completely deftroyed Tafte, 
 it would not be worth any writer's while, 
 who aimed at more than the reputation of 
 the day, to endeavour to amufe the public.'* 
 
 THE 
 
1 
 
 THE 
 
 ENGLISH GARDEN. 
 
 BOOK THE FIRST. 
 
 "A O thee, divine Simplicity ! to thee, 
 Beft arbitrefs of what is good and fair, 
 
 This verfe belongs. O, as it freely flows, 
 
 Give it thy powers of pleafing: elfe in vain 
 
 It drives to teach the rules, from Nature drawn, 5 
 
 Of import high to thofe whofe tafte would add 
 
 To Nature's carelefs graces ; lovelieft then, 
 
 When, o'er her form, thy eafy fkill has taught 
 
 The robe of Spring in ampler folds to flow. 
 
 Hafte Goddefs ! to the woods, the lawns, the vales; 10 
 
 That lie in rude luxuriance, and but wait 
 
 Thy call to bloom with beauty. I meanwhile, 
 
 Attendant on thy ftate ferene, will mark 
 
 Its faery progrefs; wake th' accordant firing ; 
 
 And tell how far, beyond the tranfient glare 15 
 
 Of fickle fafhion, or of formal art, 
 
 Thy flowery works with charm perennial pleafe. 
 
 A Ye 
 
( 2 ) 
 Ye too, ye fitter Powers ! that, at my birth, 
 Aufpicious fmil'd ; and o'er my cradle drop'd 
 Thofe magic feeds of Fancy, which produce 20 
 
 A Poet's feeling, and a Painter's eye, 
 Come to your votary's aid. For well ye know 
 How foon my infant accents lifp'd the rhyme, 
 How foon my hands the mimic colours fpread, 
 And vainly drove to fnatch a double wreath 25 
 
 From Fame's unfading laurel : fruitlefs aim ; 
 Yet not inglorious ; nor perchance devoid 
 Of friendly ufe to this fair argument ; 
 If fo, with lenient fmiles, ye deign to chear, 
 At this fad hour*, my defolated foul. 30 
 
 For deem not ye that I refume the ftrain 
 To court the world's applaufe : my years mature 
 Have learn'd to flight the toy. No, 'tis to footh 
 That agony of heart, which they alone, 
 Who beft have lov'd, who beft have been belov'd, 35 
 Can feel, or pity j fympathy fevere ! 
 Which fhe too felt, when on her pallid lip 
 The laft farewell hung trembling, and befpoke 
 A wifh to linger here, and blefs the arms 
 She left for heav'n. She died, and heav'n is hers ! 49 
 Be mine, the penfive folitary balm 
 
 * Ver. 30, Note I. - That 
 
( 3 ) 
 
 That recollection yields. Yes, Angel pure ! 
 
 While Memory holds her feat, thy image ftill 
 
 Shall reign, fhall triumph there; and when, as now, 
 
 Imagination forms a Nymph divine 45 
 
 To lead the fluent {train, thy modeft blufh, 
 
 Thy mild demeanor, thy unpradlis'd fmile 
 
 Shall grace that Nymph, and fweet Simplicity 
 
 Be drefs'd (Ah meek Maria !) in thy charms. 
 
 Begin the Song ! and ye of Albion's fona 59 
 
 Attend ; Ye freeborn, ye ingenuous few, 
 Who heirs of competence, if not of wealth, 
 Preferve that veftal purity of foul 
 
 Whence genuine tafte proceeds. To you, bleft youths, 
 I fing ; whether in Academic groves 55 
 
 Studious ye rove; or, fraught with learning's ftores, 
 Vifit the Latian plain, fond to tranfplant 
 Thofe arts which Greece did, with her Liberty, 
 Refign to Rome. Yet know, the art I fing 
 Ev'n there ye fhall not learn. Rome knew it not 60 
 While Rome was free : Ah ! hope not then to find 
 In flavifli fuperftitious Rome the fair 
 Remains. Meanwhile, of old and claflic aid 
 Tho' fruitlefs be the fearch, your eyes entranc'd 
 
 A 2 Shall 
 
( 4 ) 
 
 Shall catch thofe glowing fcenes, that taught a Claude 
 
 To grace his canvafs with Hefperian hues : 66 
 
 And fcenes like thefe, on Memory's tablet drawn, 
 
 Bring back to Britain ; there give local form 
 
 To each Idea-, and, if Nature lend 
 
 Materials fit of torrent, rock, and (hade, 70 
 
 Produce new Tivolis. But learn to rein, 
 
 O Youth ! whofe fki!l elTays the arduous talk, 
 
 That (kill within the limit fhe allows. 
 
 Great Nature fcorns controul: (lie will not bear 
 
 One beauty foreign to the fpot or foil 75 
 
 She gives thee to adorn : 'tis thine alone 
 
 To mend, not change her features. Does her hand 
 
 Stretch forth a level lawn : Ah, hope not thou 
 
 To lift the mountain there. Do mountains frown 
 
 Around ? Ah, wifh not there the level lawn. 80 
 
 Yet file permits thy art, difcreetly us'J, 
 
 To fmooth the rugged and to fwell the plain. 
 
 But dare with caution ; elfe expect, bold man ! 
 
 The injur'd Genius of the place to rife 
 
 In felf-defence, and, like fome giant fiend 85 
 
 That frowns in Gothic ftory, fwift deftroy, 
 
 By night, the puny labours of thy day. 
 
 What 
 
( 5 ) 
 What then muft he attempt, whom niggard Fate 
 Has fixt in fuch an inaufpicious fpot 
 As bears no trace of beauty ? muft he fit 90 
 
 Dull and inactive in the defert wafte, 
 If Nature there no happy feature wears 
 To wake and meet his fkill ? Believe the Mufe, 
 She does not know that inaufpicious fpot 
 Where Beauty is thus niggard of her ftore : 95 
 
 Believe the Mufe, thro' this terreftrial vaft 
 The feeds of grace are fown, prcfufely fown, 
 Ev'n where we leaft may hope : the defert hills 
 Will hear the call of Art ; the vallies dank 
 Obey her juft behefts, and fmile with charms 100 
 
 Congenial to the foil, and all its own. 
 
 For tell me, where's the defert ? there alone 
 Where man refides not; or, if 'chance refides, 
 He is not there the man his Maker form'd, 
 Induftrious man, by hcav'n's firft law ordain'd 105 
 
 To earn his food by labour. In the wafte 
 Place thou that man with his primaeval arms, 
 His plough-fhare, and his fpade ; nor fhalt thou lon» 
 Impatient wait a change ; the wafte fhall fmile 
 With yellow harvefts; what was barren heath no 
 
 Shall 
 
( 6 ) 
 Shall foon be verdant mead. Now let thy Art 
 Exert its powers, and give, by varying lines, 
 The foil, already tam'd, its finifh'd grace. 
 
 Ncr lefs obfcquious to the hand of toil, 
 If Fancy guide that hand, will the dank, vale 115 
 
 Receive improvement meet ; but Fancy here 
 Muft lead, not follow Labour; fhe muft tell 
 In what peculiar place the foil {hall rife, 
 Where fink ; prefcribe what form each fluice fhall wear, 
 And how direct its courfe ; whether to fpread 120 
 
 Broad as a lake, or, as a river pent 
 By fringed banks, weave its irriguous way 
 Thro' lawn and fhade alternate : for if She 
 Prefide not o'er the tafk, the narrow drains 
 Will run in tedious parallel, or cut 125 
 
 Each other in fharp angles ; hence implore 
 Her fwift afliftance, ere the ruthlefs fpade 
 Too deeply wound the bofom of the foil. 
 
 Yet, in this lowly fite, where all that charms 
 Within itfelf muft charm, hard is the tafk 13Q 
 
 Impos'd on Fancy. Hence with idle fear ! 
 Is (he not Fancy ? and can Fancy fail 
 
 In 
 
( 7 ) 
 
 In fweet delufions, in concealments apt, 
 And wild creative power ? She cannot fail. 
 And yet, full oft, when her creative power, 135 
 
 Her apt concealments, her delufions fweet 
 Have been profufely lavifh'd j when her groves 
 Have fhot, with vegetative vigour ftrong, 
 Ev'n to their wifii'd maturity ; when Jove 
 Has roll'd the changeful feafons o'er her lawns, 14© 
 And each has left a bleffing as it roll'd : 
 Ev'n then, perchance, fome vain faftidious eye 
 Shall rove unmindful of furrounding charms 
 And afk for profpecl. Stranger ! 'tis not here. 
 . Go feek it on fome garifh turret's height ; 145 
 
 Seek it on Richmond's or on Windfor's brow; 
 There gazing, on the gorgeous vale below, 
 Applaud alike, with fafhion'd pomp of phrafe, 
 The good and bad, which, in profufion, there 
 That gorgeous vale exhibits. Here meanwhile, 153 
 Ev'n in the dull, unfeen, unfeeing dell, 
 Thy tafte contemns, (hall Contemplation imp 
 Her eagle plumes ; the Poet here fhall hold 
 Sweet converfe with his Mufe ; the curious Sage, 
 Who comments on great Nature's ample tome, 155 
 jShall find that volume here. For here are caves, 
 
 Where 
 
( 8 ) 
 Where rife thofe gurgling rills, that fing the fong 
 Which Contemplation loves; here fhadowy glades, 
 Where thro' the tremulous foliage darts the ray, 
 That gilds the Poet's day-dream; here the turf 160 
 Teems with the ve^etatirif? race ; the air 
 Is peopled with the in feci: tribes, that float 
 Upon the noontide beam, and call the Sage 
 To number and to name them. Nor if here 
 The Painter comes, fhall his enchanting art 165 
 
 Go back without a boon : for Fancy here, 
 With Nature's living colours, forms a fcene 
 Which Ruisdale beft might rival : chryftal lakes, 
 O'er which the giant oak, himfelf a grove, 
 Flings his romantic branches, and beholds 170 
 
 His reverend image in th' expanfe below. 
 If diftant hills be wanting, yet our eye 
 Forgets the want, and with delighted gaze 
 Refts on the lovely foreground ; there applauds 
 The art, which, varying forms and blending hues, 175 
 Gives that harmonious force of (hade and light, 
 Which makes the landfcape perfect. Art like this 
 Is only art, all elfe abortive toil. 
 
 Come 
 
( 9 ) 
 
 Come then, thou Sifter Mule, from whom the mind 
 Wins for her airy villous colour, form, 180 
 
 And fixt locality, fweet Painting, come 
 To teach the docile pupil of my fong, 
 How much his practice on thy aid depends. 
 
 Of Nature's various fcenes the Painter culls 
 That for his fav'rite theme, where the fair whole 185 
 Is broken into ample parts, and bold j 
 Where to the eye three well-mark'd diftances 
 Spread their peculiar colouring. Vivid green, 
 Warm brown, and black opake the foreground bears 
 Confpicuous ; fober olive coldly marks 19O 
 
 The fecond diftance ; thence the third declines 
 In fofter blue, or, lefs'ning ftill, is loft 
 In fainteft purple. When thy tafte is call'd 
 To deck a fcene where Nature's felf prefents 
 All thefe diftincl gradations, then rejoice T95 
 
 As does the Painter, and like him apply 
 Thy colours ; plant thou on each feparate part 
 Its proper foliage. Chief, for there thy (kill 
 Has its chief fcope, enrich with all the hues 
 That flowers, that fhrubs, that trees can yield, the fides 
 Of that fair path, from whence our fight is led 201 
 B Gradual 
 
( to ) 
 
 Gradual to view the whole. Where'er thou wind'ft 
 
 That path, take heed between the fcene and eye, 
 
 To vary and to mix thy chofen greens. 
 
 Here for a while with cedar or with larch, 205 
 
 That from the ground fprcad their clofe texture, hide 
 
 The view entire. Then o'er fome lowly tuft, 
 
 Where rofc and woodbine bloom, permit its charms 
 
 To burft upon the fight ; now thro' a copfe 
 
 Of beech, that rear their fmocth and ftately trunks, 
 
 Admit it partially, and half exclude, 211 
 
 And half reveal its graces : in this path, 
 
 How long foe'er the wanderer roves, each frep 
 
 Shall wake frefh beauties ; each fhort point prefent • 
 
 A different picture, new, and yet the fame. 215 
 
 Yet fome there are who fcom this cautious rule, 
 And fell each tree that intercepts the fcene. 
 O great Poussin ! O Nature's darling, Claude ! 
 What if fome rafh and facrilegious hand 
 Tore from your canvafs thofe umbrageous pines 220 
 That frown in front, and give each azure hill 
 The charm of contraft ! Nature fuffers here 
 Like outrage, and bewails a beauty loft, 
 Which Time with tardy hanJ fhall late re.lore. 
 
 Yet 
 
( » ) 
 
 Yet here the fpoiler refts not ; fee him rife 225 
 
 Warm from his devaluation, to improve, 
 For fo he calls it, yonder champian wide. 
 There on each bolder brow in fhapes acute 
 His fence he fcatters ; there the Scottish fir 
 In murky file lifts his inglorious head, 2 30 
 
 And blots the fair horizon. So fhoald art 
 Improve thy pencil's fayage dignity, 
 Salvator ! if where, far as eye can pierce, 
 Rock pil'd on rock, thy Alpine heights retire, 
 She flung her random foliage, and difturb'd 235 
 
 The deep repofe of the majeltic fcene. 
 This deed were impious. Ah, forgive the thought, 
 Thou more than Painter, more than Poet ! He, 
 Alone thy equal, who was " Fancy's child." 
 
 Does then the Song forbid the Planter's hand 240 
 To clothe the diftant hills, and veil with woods 
 Their barren fummits ? No, it but forbids 
 All poverty of clothing. Rich the robe, 
 And ample let it flow, that Nature wears 
 On her thron'd eminence : where'er (he takes 245 
 
 Her horizontal march, purfue her ftep 
 With fw^eping train of foreft ; hill to hill 
 
 B 2 Unite 
 
( » ) 
 
 Unite with prodigality of fhade. 
 
 There plant thy elm, thychefnut; nourifli there 
 
 Thofe fapling oaks, which, at Britannia's call, 250 
 
 Mav heave their trunks mature into the main, 
 
 And float the bulwarks of her liberty : 
 
 But if the fir, give it its ftation meet ; 
 
 Place it an outguard to th'affailing north, 
 
 To fliield the infant fcions, till poffeft 255 
 
 Of native ftrength, they learn alike to fcorn 
 
 The blaft and their protectors. Fofter'd thus, 
 
 The cradled hero gains from female care 
 
 His future vigor ; but, that vigor felt, 
 
 He fprings indignant from his nurfe's arms, 260 
 
 Nods his terrific helmet, fhakes his fpcar, 
 
 And is that awful thing which heav'n ordainM 
 
 The fcourge of tyrants, and his country's pride. 
 
 If yet thy art be dubious how to treat 
 Nature's neglected features, turn thy eye 263 
 
 To thofe, the. matters of correct defign, 
 Who, from her vaft variety, have cull'd 
 The lovelicft, boldeft parts, and new arrang'd; 
 Yet, as herfelf approv'd, herfelf infpir'd. 
 In their immortal works thou ne'er fhalt find 27a 
 
 Dull 
 
{ 13 ) 
 
 Dull uniformity, contrivance quaint, 
 
 Or labour'd littlenefs ; but contrails broad, 
 
 And carelefs lines, whofe undulating forms 
 
 Play thro' the varied canvafs : thefe tranfplant 
 
 Again on Nature ; take thy plaflic fpade, 275 
 
 It is thy pencil ; take thy feeds, thy plants, 
 
 They are thy colours ; and by thefe repay 
 
 With intereft every charm fhe lent thy art. 
 
 Nor, while I thus to Imitation's realm 
 Direct thy ftep, deem I direct thee wrong ; sg^ 
 
 Nor afk, why I forget great Nature's fount, 
 And bring thee not the bright infpiring cup 
 From her original fpring ? Yet, if thou afk'fr, 
 Thyfelf fhalt give the anfwer. Tell me why 
 Did Raphael fteal, when his creative hand f£e 
 
 Imag'd the Seraphim, ideal grace 
 And dignity fupernal from that frore 
 Of Attic fculpture, which the ruthlefs Goth 
 Spar'd in his headlong fury ? Tell me this : 
 And then confefs that beauty beft is taught 29* 
 
 By thofe, the favor'd few, whom Heav'n has lent 
 The power to feize, felecl:, and reunite 
 JJer lovelieft features ; and of thefe to form 
 
 Uae 
 
( 14 ) 
 One Archetype compleat of fovereign Grace. 
 Here Nature fees her faireft forms more fair ; 295 
 
 Owns them for hers, yet owns herfelf exceli'd 
 Ky what herfelf produe'd. Here Art and She 
 Embrace ; connubial Juno fmilcs benign, 
 lAnd from the warm embrace Perfection fprings. 
 
 Roufc then each latent energy of foul 300 
 
 To clafp ideal beauty. Proteus-like, 
 Think not the changeful Nymph will long elude 
 Thy chafe, or with reluctant coynefs frown. 
 Infpir'd by Her thy happy art fhall learn 
 To melt in fluent curves whate'er is frraight, 305 
 
 Acute, or parallel. For, thefe unchang'dj 
 Nature and fhe difdain the formal fcenc. 
 'Tis their demand, that ev'ry flep of Rule 
 Be fever'd from their fight : They own no charm 
 But thofe that fair Variety creates, 310 
 
 Who ever loves to undulate and fport 
 In many a winding train. With equal zeal 
 She, carelefs Goddefs, fcorns the cube and cone, 
 As does mechanic Order hold them dear : 
 fjence fprings their enmity; and he that hopes 315 
 
 To 
 
( n ) 
 
 To reconcile the foes, as well might aim 
 With hawk and dove to draw the Cyprian car. 
 
 Such fentence pari, where fhall the Dryads fly 
 That haunt yon antient Vifta? Pity, Cure, 
 Will fpare the long cathedral ifle of (hade 329 
 
 In which they fojourn ; Tafte were facrilege, 
 If, lifting there the axe, it dar'd invade 
 Thofe fpreading oaks that in fraternal files 
 Have pair'd for centuries, and heard the flrains 
 Of Sidney's, nay, perchance, of Surry's reed. 3-25 
 Yet muft they fall, unlefs mechanic Skill, 
 To fave her offspring, roufe at our command ; 
 And, where wc bid her move, with engine huge, 
 Each ponderous trunk, the ponderous trunk there move. 
 A work of difficulty and danger try'd, 330 
 
 Nor oft fuccefsful found. But if it fails, 
 Thy axe mull do its office. Cruel talk, 
 Yet needful. Trull me, tho' I bid thee ftrike, 
 Reluctantly I bid thee : for my foul 
 Holds dear an antient oak, nothing more dear ; 335 
 It is an antient friend. Stay then thine hand j 
 And try by faplings tall, difcreetly plac'd 
 Before, between, behind, in fcatter'd groups, 
 
 Te 
 
( i6 ) 
 
 To break th' obdurate line. So may'fl: thou fave 
 
 A chofen few ; and yet, alas, but few 340 
 
 Of thefe, the old protestors of the plain. 
 
 Yet fhall thefe few give to thy opening lawn 
 
 That fhadowy pomp, v/hich only they can give : 
 
 For parted now, in patriarchal pride, 
 
 Each tree becomes the father of a tribe ; 345 
 
 And, o'er the {tripling foliage, rifing round, 
 
 Towers with parental dignity fupreme. 
 
 And yet, My Albion ! in that fair domain, 
 Which Ocean made thy dowry, when his love 
 Tempeftuous tore thee from reluctant Gaul, 350 
 
 And bad thee be his Queen, there fiill remains 
 Full many a lovely unfrequented wild, 
 Where change like this is needlefs ; where no lines 
 Of hedge-row,^ avenue, or of platform fquare 
 Demand deflruction. In thy fair domain, 355 
 
 Yes, my lov'd Albion ! many a glade is found, 
 The haunt of Wood-gods only : where if Art 
 E'er dar'd to tread, 'twas with unfandal'd foot, 
 Printlefs, as if the place were holy ground. 
 And there are fcenes, where, tho' me whilom trod, 360 
 Led by the worfi; of guides, fell Tyranny, 
 
 And 
 
( 17 ) 
 
 And ruthlefs Superftition, we now trace 
 
 Her footfleps with delight; and pleas'd revere 
 
 What once had rous'd our hatred. But to Time, 
 
 Not her, the praife is due : his gradual touch 365 
 
 Has moulder'd into beauty many a tower, 
 
 Which, when it frown'd with all its battlements, 
 
 Was only terrible ; and many a fane 
 
 Monadic, which, when deck'd with all its fpires, 
 
 Serv'd but to feed fome pamper'd Abbot's pride, 370 
 
 And awe th' unletter'd vulgar. Generous Youth, 
 
 Whoe'er thou art, that liften'ft to my lay, 
 
 And feel'ft thy foul affent to what I fing, 
 
 Happy art thou if thou can'ft call thine own 
 
 Such fcenes as thefe : where Nature and where Time 375 
 
 Have work'd congenial ; where a fcatter'd hoft 
 
 Of antique oaks darken thy fidelong hills ; 
 
 While, rufhing thro' their branches, rifted cliffs 
 
 Dart their white heads, and glitter thro' the gloom* 
 
 More happy ftill, if one fuperior rock 380 
 
 Bear on its brow the fhiver'd fragment huge 
 
 Of fome old Norman fortrefs j happier far. 
 
 Ah, then moft happy, if thy vale below 
 
 Waft, with the cryftal coolnefs of its rills, 
 
 Some mould'ring abbey's ivy-vefted wall. 38 c 
 
 c o 
 
( x8 ) 
 
 O how unlike the fcene my fancy forms, 
 Did Folly, heretofore, with Wealth confpire 
 To plan that formal, dull, disjointed fcene, 
 Which once was call'J a Garden. Britain ft ill 
 Bears on her breaft full many a hideous wound 390 
 Given by the cruel pair, when, borrowing aid 
 From geometric (kill, they vainly ftrove 
 By line, by plummet, and unfeeling fheers, 
 To form with verdure what the builder form'd 
 With ftone *. Egregious madnefs ; yet purfu'd 395 
 With pains unwearied, with expence unfumm'd, 
 And fcience doating. Hence the fidelong walls 
 Of fhaven yew ; the holly's prickly arms 
 Trimm'd into high arcades ; the tonfile box 
 Wove, in mofaic mode of many a curi, 400 
 
 Around the figur'd carpet of the lawn. 
 Hence too deformities of harder cure : 
 The terras mound uplifted ; the long line 
 Deep delv'd of flat canal ; and all that toil. 
 Milled by taftelefs Fafhion, could atchieve 405 
 
 To mar fair Nature's lineaments divine. 
 
 Long was the night of error, nor difpell'd 
 By Him that rofc at learning's earlieft dawn, 
 
 * Ve.r, 39J» Note II. Prophet 
 
( 19 ) 
 
 Prophet of unborn Science. On thy realm, 
 
 Philofophy ! his fovereign luftre fpread ; 410 
 
 Yet did he deign to light with cafual glance 
 
 The wilds of tafte. Yes, fageft Verulam, * 
 
 'Twas thine to banifli from the royal groves 
 
 Each childifh vanity of crifped knot 
 
 And fculptur'd foliage; to the lawn reftore 415 
 
 Its ample fpace, and bid it fcaft the fight 
 
 With verdure pure, unbroken, unabridg'd : 
 
 Far Verdure foaths the eye, as rofeate ftveets 
 
 The fmell, or mufic's melting drains the ear, 
 
 So taught the Sage, taught a degenerate reign 420 
 What in Eliza's golden day was tafte. 
 Not but the mode of that romantic age, 
 The age of tourneys, triumphs, and quaint mafques, 
 Glar'd with fantaftic pageantry, which dimm'd 
 The fober eye of truth, and daxzled ev'n 425 
 
 The Sage himfelf ; witnefs his high-arch'd hedge, 
 In pillar'd ftate by carpentry upborn, 
 With colour'd mirrors deck'd, and prifon'd birds. 
 But, when our ftep has pae'd his proud parterres, 
 And reach'd the heath, then Nature glads our eye 433 
 C 2 Sporting 
 
 * Ver. 41 i, Note III, 
 
( 20 ) 
 Sporting in all her lovely earcleflhefs. 
 There fmiles in varied tufts the velvet rofe, 
 There flaunts the gadding woodbine, fwells the ground 
 In gentle hillocks, and around its fides 
 Thro' bloflom'd fhadas the fecret pathway fieals. 435 
 
 Thus, with a Poet's power, the Sage's pen 
 Pourtr2y'd that nicer negligence of fcene, 
 Which Tafte approves. While He, delicious Swain, 
 Who tun'd his oaten pipe by Mulla's ftream, 
 Accordant touch'd the flops in Dorian mood ; 440 
 
 What time he 'gan to paint the fairy vale, 
 Where ftands the Fane of Venus. Well I ween 
 That then, if ever, Colin, thy fond hand 
 Did fteep its pencil in the well-fount clear 
 Of true fimplicity ; and " call'd in Art 445 
 
 " Only to fecond Nature, and fupply 
 ** All that the Nymph forgot, or left forlorn." * 
 Yet what avail'd the fong ? or what avail'd 
 Ev'n thine, Thou chief of Bards, whofe mighty mind, 
 With inward light irradiate, mirror-like 450 
 
 Receiv'd, and to mankind with ray reflex 
 The fov'reign Planter's primal work difplay'd ? 
 
 That 
 * Ver. 447> Note IV. 
 
( 21 ) 
 
 * That work, " where not nice Art in curious knots, 
 
 « But Nature boon pour'd forth on hill and dale 
 
 " Flowers worthy of Paradife ; while all around 455 
 
 «* Umbrageous grotts, and caves of cool recefs, 
 
 '* And murmuring waters down the flope difpers'd, 
 
 " Or held, by fringed banks, in chryftal lakes, 
 
 " Compofe a rural feat of various view." 
 
 'Twas thus great Nature's Herald blazon'd high 460 
 
 That fair original imprefs, which fhe bore 
 
 In ftate fublime ; e'er mifcreated Art, 
 
 Offspring of Sin and Shame, the banner feiz'd, 
 
 And with adulterate pageantry defil'd. 
 
 Yet vainly, Milton, did thy voice proclaim 465 
 
 Thefe her primeval honours. Still {he lay 
 
 Defac'd, deflower'd, full many a ruthlefs year : 
 
 Alike, when Charles, the abject tool of France, 
 
 Came back to fmile his fubjecls into flaves ; 
 
 Or Belgic William, with his warriour frown, 470 
 
 Coldly declar'd them free ; in fetters ftill 
 
 The Goddefs pin'd, by both alike opprefr. 
 
 Go to the Proof! behold what Temple call'd 
 A perfect Garden. There thou malt not find 
 Qne blade of verdure, but with aching feet 475 
 
 * Ver. 458, Note V. From 
 
( " ) 
 From terras down to terras fhalt defcend, 
 Step following ftep, by tedious flight of flairs :' 
 On leaden platforms now the noon-day fun 
 Shall fcorch thee ; now the dank arcades of flone 
 Shall chill thy fervour ; happy, if at length 48® 
 
 Thou reach the Orchard, where the fparing turf*' 
 Thro' equal lines, all centring in a point, 
 Yields thee a fofter tread. And yet full oft 
 O'er Temtle's ftudious hour did Truth prefide, 
 Sprinkling her luftre o'er his claflic page : 485 
 
 There hear his candor own in fafhion's fpite, 
 In fpite of courtly dulnefs, hear it own 
 *' There is a grace in wild variety 
 " Surpafiing rule and order." f Temple, yes, 
 There is a grace ; and let eternal wreaths 490 
 
 Adorn their brows who fixt its empire here. 
 The Mufe fhall hail the champions that herfelf 
 Led to the fair afchievement %. Addison, 
 Thou polifh'd Sage, or fhall I call thee Bard, 
 I fee thee come : around thy temples play 495 
 
 The lambent flames of humour, bright'ning mild 
 Thy judgment into fmiles ; gracious thou com'fl 
 With Satire at thy fide, who checks her frown, 
 
 But 
 
 * Ver. 481, Note VI. 1- Ver. 4^9, Note VII. 
 
 t Ver. 493, Note VIII. 
 
( 23 ) 
 
 But not her fecret fting. With bolder rage 
 
 Pope next advances : his indignant arm $00 
 
 Waves the poetic brand o'er Timon's {hades, 
 
 And lights them to deftru&ion ; the fierce blaze 
 
 Sweeps thro' each kindred Vifta; Groves to Groves * 
 
 Nod their fraternal farewell, and expire. 
 
 And now, elate with fair-earn'd victory, 505 
 
 The Bard retires, and on the Bank of Thames 
 
 Eredts his flag of triumph ; wild it waves 
 
 In verdant fplendor, and beholds, and hails 
 
 The King of Rivers, as he rolls along. 
 
 Kent is his bold affociate, Kent who felt 510 
 
 The pencil's power : f but, fir'd by higher forms 
 
 Of Beauty, than that pencil knew to paint, 
 
 Work'd with the living hues that Nature lent, 
 
 And rcaliz'd his Landfcapes. Generous He, 
 
 Who gave to Painting, what the wayward Nymph 515 
 
 Refus'd her Votary, thofe Elyfian fcenes, 
 
 Which would fhe emulate, her niceft hand 
 
 Mufl all its force of light and fhade employ. 
 
 On thee too, Southcote, fhall the Mufe beftow 
 
 No vulgar praife : for thou to humbleft things 520 
 
 Could'ft give ennobling beauties ; deck'd by thee, 
 
 The 
 * Vcr. 503, Note IX. \ Ver. $*i, NoteX. 
 
( 24 ) 
 
 The fimple Farm eclips'd the Garden's pride, * 
 
 Ev'n as the virgin blufh of innocence, 
 
 The harlotry of Art. Nor, Shenstone, thou 
 
 Shalt pafs without thy meed, thou fon of peace ! 525 
 
 Who knew'ft, perchance, to harmonize thy fhades 
 
 Still fofter than thy fong ; yet was that fong 
 
 Nor rude, nor inharmonious, when attun'd 
 
 To paftoral plaint, or tale of flighted love. 
 
 Him too, the living Leader of thy powers, 530 
 
 Great Nature ! him the Mufe fhall hail in notes 
 
 Which antedate the praife true Genius claims 
 
 From juft Pofterity : Bards yet unborn 
 
 Shall pay to Brown that tribute, fitlieft paid 
 
 In ftrains, the beauty of his fcenes infpire. 535 
 
 Meanwhile, ye youths ! whofe fympathetic fouls 
 Would tafte thofe genuine charms, which faintly fmile 
 In my defcriptive fong, O vifit oft 
 The finifh'd fcenes, that boaft the forming hand 
 Of thefe creative Genii ! feel ye there 540 
 
 What Reynolds felt, when firft the Vatican 
 Unbarr'd her gates, and to his raptur'd eye 
 Gave all the godlike energy that fiow'd 
 From Michael's pencil j feel what Garrick felt, 
 
 * Ver.jjj, Note XI, When 
 
( 25 ) 
 When firft he breath'd the foul of Shakefpear's page. 54.5 
 So fhall your Art, if calPd to grace a fcene 
 Yet unadorn'd, with tafte inftinciive give 
 Each grace appropriate j fo your active eye 
 Shall dart that glance prophetic, which awakes 
 The fiumbring Wood-nymphs ; gladly fhall they rife 
 Oread, and Dryad, from their verdurous beds, 551 
 And fling their foliage, and arrange their {terns, 
 As you, and beauty bid : the Naiad train, 
 Alike obfequious, from a thoufanJ urns 
 Shall pour their cryftaline tide ; while, hand in hand, 
 Vertumnus, and Pomona bring their ftores, 556 
 
 Fruitage, and flowers of ev'ry blufh, and fcent, 
 Each varied feafon yields ; to you they bring 
 The fragrant tribute; ye, with generous hand 
 Diffufe the bleffing wide, till Albion fmik 560 
 
 One ample theatre of fyl van Grace. 
 
 END of the FIRST BOOK. 
 
 D T H 
 
THE 
 
 ENGLISH GARDEN. 
 
 OOK THE SECOND, 
 
( 29 ) 
 
 THE 
 
 ENGLISH GARDEN, 
 
 BOOK THE SECOND. 
 
 HA I L to the Art, that teaches Wealth and Pride 
 How to pofTefs their wifh, the world's applaufe, 
 Unmixt with blame ! that bids Magnificence 
 Abate its meteor glare, and learn to fhine 
 Benevolently mild ; like her, the Queen 5 
 
 Of Night, who failing thro' autumnal fkies, 
 Gives to the bearded product of the plain 
 Her ripening luftre, lingering as fhe rolls, 
 And glancing cool the falutary ray 
 Which fills the fields with plenty *. Hail that Art 16 
 Ye fwains ! for, hark ! with lowings glad, your herds 
 Proclaim its influence, wandering o'er the lawns 
 Reftor'd to them and Nature j now no more 
 Shall Fortune's Minion rob them of their right, 
 Or round his dull domain with lofty wall j~ 
 
 Oppofe their jocund prefence. Gothic Pomp 
 Frowns and retires, his proud behefts are fcorn'd ; 
 Now Tafte infpir'd by Truth exalts her voice, 
 
 * Ver. 10. Note XII. And 
 
C 30 ) 
 
 And fhe is heard. " Oh, let not man mifdeem 5 
 
 " Wafte is not Grandeur, Fafhion ill fupplies ad 
 
 " My facred place, and Beauty fcorns to dwell 
 
 " Where Ufe is exil'd." At the awful found 
 
 The terrace finks fpontaneous ; on the green, 
 
 Eroider'd with crifped knots, the tonfile yews 
 
 Wither and fall ; the fountain dares no more 25 
 
 To fling its wafted cryftal thro' the fky, 
 
 But pours falubrious o'er the parched lawfi 
 
 Rills of fertility. Oh beft of Arts 
 
 That works this happy change ! true Alchymy, 
 
 Beyond the Roficrufian boaft, that turns *$ 
 
 Deformity to grace, expence to gairf, 
 
 And pleas'd reftores to Earth's maternal lap 
 
 The long-loft fruits of Amalthea's horn. 
 
 When fuch the theme, the Poet fmiles fecure 
 Of candid audience, and with touch afiur'd 35 
 
 Refumes his reed Ascrjean ; eager he 
 To ply its warbling ftops of various note 
 In Nature's caufe, that Albion's liftening youths, 
 Tnform'd erewhile to fcorn the long-drawn lines 
 Of ftraight formality, alike may fcorn 43 
 
 Thofe quick, acute, perplex'd, and tangled pnths, 
 
 That, 
 
( 3* ) 
 
 That, like the fnake crufh'd by the fharpen'd fpade. 
 Writhe in convulfive torture, and full oft, 
 Thro' many a dank and unfunn'd labyrinth, 
 Miflead our ftep ; till giddy, fpent, and foil'd, 45 
 
 We reach the point where firft our race began. 
 
 Thefe Fancy priz'd erroneous, what time Tafte, 
 An infant yet, firft join'd her to deftroy 
 The meafur'd platform ; into falfe extremes 
 What marvel if they ftray'd, as yet unfkill'd 50 
 
 To mark the form of that peculiar curve, 
 Alike averfe to crooked and to ftraight, 
 Where fweet Simplicity refides; which Grace 
 And Beauty call their own ; whofe lambent flow 
 Charms us at once with fymmetry and eafe. 55 
 
 'Tis Nature's curve, inftinclively fhe bids 
 Her tribes of Being trace it. Down the flope 
 Of yon wide field, fee, with its gradual fweep, 
 The ploughing fleers their fallow ridges fvvell ; 
 The peafant, driving thro' each fhadowy lane 60 
 
 His team, that bends beneath th' incumbent weight 
 Of laughing Ceres, marks it with his wheel ; 
 At night, and morn, the milkmaid's carelefs ftep 
 lias, thro' yon paflure green, from ftile to ftile, 
 
 Xmpreft 
 
C 32 ) 
 
 Impreft a kindred curve; the fcudding hare 65 
 
 Draws to her dew-fprent feat, o'er thymy heaths, 
 A path as gently waving ; mark them well ; 
 Compare, pronounce, that, varying but in fize, 
 Their forms are kindred all ; go then, convine'd 
 That Art's unerring rule is only drawn 70 
 
 From Nature's facred fource ; a rule that guides 
 Her ev'ry toil ; or, if fhe fhape the path, 
 Or fcoop the lawn, or, gradual, lift the hill. 
 For noi alone to that embellifh'd walk, 
 Which leads to ev'ry beauty of the fcene, 75 
 
 It yields a grace, but fpreads its influence wide, 
 Prefcribes each form of thicket, copfe, or wood, 
 Confines the rivulet, and fpreads the lake. 
 
 Yet fhall this graceful line forget to pleafe, 
 If border'd clofe by fidelong parallels, 80 
 
 Nor duly mixt with thofe oppofing curves 
 That give the charm of contraft. Vainly Tafte 
 Draws thro' the grove her path in eafieft bend, 
 If, on the margin of its woody fides, 
 The meafur'd greenfward waves in kindred flow : 85 
 Oft let the turf recede, and oft approach, 
 With varied breadth, now fmk into the fhade, 
 
 Now 
 
( 33 ) 
 
 Now to the" fun its verdant bofom bare. 
 
 As vainly wilt thou lift the gradual hill 
 
 To meet thy right-hand view, if to the kft go 
 
 An equal hill afcends : in this, and all 
 
 Be various, wild, and free as Nature's felf. 
 
 For in her wildnefs is there oft an art, 
 Or feeming art, which, by pofition apt, 
 Arranges fhapes unequal, fo to fave q$ 
 
 That correfpondent poize, which unpreferv'd 
 Would mock our gaze with airy vacancy. 
 Yet fair Variety, with all her powers, 
 Aflifts the Balance j 'gainft the barren crag 
 She lifts the paftur'd flope; to diftant hills jOO 
 
 Oppofes neighb'ring (hades ; and, centraFoft, 
 Relieves the flatnefs of the lawn, or lake, 
 With ftudded tuft, or ifland. So to poize 
 Her objects, mimic Art may oft attain : 
 She rules the foreground j {he can fvvell or fink io<? 
 Its furfacej here her leafy fcreen oppofc, 
 And there withdraw ; here part the varying greens, 
 And there in one promifcuous gloom combine 
 As beft be£ts the Genius of the fcene, 
 
 Him 
 
( 34 ) 
 Him then, that fov'reign Genius, Monarch fole no 
 Who, from creation's primal day, derives 
 His right divine to this his rural throne, 
 Approach with meet obeifance ; at his feet 
 Let our aw'd art fall proflrare. They of Ind, 
 The Tartar tyrants, Tamerlane's proud race, 1 15 
 
 Or they in Perfia thron'd, who fhalce the rod 
 Of power o'er myriads of enervate flaves, 
 Expert not humbler homage to their pride 
 Than does this fylvan Defpot*. Yet to thofe 
 Who do him loyal fervice, who revere 120 
 
 His dignity, nor aim, with rebel arms, 
 At lawlefs ufurpation, is he found 
 Patient and placable, receives well pleas'd 
 Their tributary treafures, nor difdains 
 To blend them with his own internal {lore. 3^5 
 
 Stands he in blank and dcfolated flate, 
 Where yawning crags disjointed, fharp, uncouth, 
 Involve him with pale horror ? In the clefts 
 Thy welcome fpade Ihall heap that foft'ring mould 
 Whence fapling oaks may fpring; whence cluft'ring crouds 
 Of early underwood fhall veil their fides, 131 
 
 And teach their rugged heads above the fhade 
 
 * Ver. 119, Note XIII- T« 
 
( 3S ) 
 
 To tower in fhapes romantic : Nor, around 
 
 Their flinty roots, mail ivy fpare to hang 
 
 Its gadding tendrils, nor the mofs-grown turf, 135 
 
 With wild thyme fprinkled, there refufe to fpread 
 
 Its verdure. Awful {till, yet not auftere, 
 
 The Genius (rands ; bold is his port, and wild, 
 
 But not forlorn, nor favage. On fome plain 
 
 Of tedious length, fay, are his fiat limbs laid ? 140 
 
 Thy hand fnall lift him from the dreary couch, 
 
 Pillowing his head with fwelling hillocks green, 
 
 While, all around, a foreft-curtain fpread s 
 
 Its waving folds, and blefTes his repofe. 
 
 What, if perchance in fome prolific foil, 145 
 
 Where Vegetation ftrenuous, uncontroll'd, 
 
 Has pufh'd her pow'rs luxuriant, he now pine% 
 
 For air and freedom ? Soon thy flurdy axe, 
 
 Amid its intertwined foliage driv'n, 
 
 Shall open all his glades, and ingrefs give 150 
 
 To the bright darts of day ; his prifon'd rills, 
 
 That darkling crept amid the ruftling brakes. 
 
 Shall glitter as they glide, and his dank caves, 
 
 Free to falubrious Zephyrs, ceafe to weep. 
 
 Meanwhile his (hadovvy pomp he {till retains, 155 
 
 fljs Dryads {till attend him ; they alone 
 
 E 2 Qj 
 
( 36 ) 
 Of race plebeian banifh'd, who to croud 
 Not grace his ftate, their boughs obtrufive flung. 
 
 But chief confult him ere thou dar'il decide 
 Th' appropriate bounds of Pleafure, and of Ufe; 160 
 For Pleafure, lawlefs robber, oft invades 
 Her neighbour's right, and turns to idle wafte 
 Her treafures : curb her then in fcanty bounds, 
 Whene'er the fcene permits that juft reftraint. 
 The curb rcirrains not Beauty ; fov'reign frie 165 
 
 Still triumphs, ftijl unites each fubjecl: realm., 
 And bleHes both impartial. Why then fear 
 Left, if thy fence contract the fhaven lawn, 
 It does Her wrong ? She points a thoufand ways, 
 And each her own, to cure the needful ill. 170 
 
 Where'er it winds, and freely muft it wind, 
 She bids, at ev'ry bend, thick- bloflbm'd tufts 
 Croud their inwoven tendrils : is there ftill 
 A void ? Lo, Lebanon her Cedar lends!, 
 Lo, all the ftately progeny of Pines 175 
 
 Come, with their floating foliage richly deck'd, 
 To fill that void ! meanwhile acrofs the mead 
 The wand'rinEr flocks that browfe between the (hades 
 
 Seem 
 
( 37 ) 
 Seem oft to pafs their bounds ; the dubious eye 
 Decides not if they crop the mend or lawn. 183 
 
 Browfe then your fill, fond Forefters 1 to you 
 Shall fturdy Labour quit his morning tafk 
 Well pleas'd ; nor longer o'er his ufelefs plots 
 Draw through the dew the fplendor of his fcythe. 
 He, leaning on that fcythe, with carols gay 185 
 
 Salutes his fleecy fub.ftitutes, that rufh 
 In bleating chace to their delicious tafe, 
 And, fpreading o'er the plain, with eager teeth 
 Devour it into verdure. Browfe your fill 
 Fond Forefters ! the foil that you enrich 19a 
 
 Shall frill fupply your morn and evening meal 
 With choicer!: delicates ; whether you choofe 
 The vernal blades, that rife with feeded ftera 
 Of hue purpurea! ; or the clover whi; ", 
 That in a fpiked ball collects its fweets ; 195 
 
 Or trembling fefcue : ev'ry fav'rite herb 
 Shall court your tafte, ye harmlefs epicures ! 
 Meanwhile permit that with unheeded ftep 
 J pafs befide you, nor let idle fear 
 Spoil your repair, for know the lively fcene, 200 
 
 That you ftill more enliven, to my foul 
 
 Darts 
 
C 38 ) 
 
 Darts infpiration, and impells the fong 
 TTo roll in bolder defcant ; while, within, 
 A gleam of happinefs primaeval feems 
 To fnatch me back to joys my nature claim'd, 205 
 Ere vice defil'd, ere Oavery funk the world-, 
 And all was faith and freedom : Then was man 
 Creation's king, yet friend ; and all that browfe r 
 Or fkim, or dive, the plain, the air, the flood, 
 Paid him their liberal homage ; paid unaw'd 210 
 
 In love accepted, fympathetic love 
 That fel$ for all, and blefr. them with its fmiles. 
 Then, nor the curling horn had learn'd to found 
 The favage fong of chace ; the barbed fhaft 
 Had then no poifon'd point; nor thou, fell tube ! 215 
 Whofe iron entrails hide the fulphurous blafr^ 
 Satanic engine, knew*ft the ruthlcfs power 
 Of thundering death around thee. Then alike. 
 Were ye innocuous thro' your ev'ty tribe, 
 Or brute, or reptile; nor by rage or guile 22a 
 
 Had giv'n to injur'd man his only plea 
 (And that the tyrant's plea*) to work your harm. 
 InftincT:, alas, like wayward Reafon, now 
 Veers from its pole. There was a. golden time 
 When each created being kept its fphere 225 
 
 * Ver. 2Z2, Note XIV. Appointed, 
 
( 39 ) 
 
 Appointed, nor infring'd its neighbour's right. 
 
 The flocks, to whom the grafly lawn was giv'n, 
 
 Fed on its blades contented ; now they crufh 
 
 Each fcion's tender (hoots, and, at its birth, 
 
 Deftroy, what, fav'd from their remorfelefs tooth, 230 
 
 Had been the tree of Jove. Ev'n while 1 fing, 
 
 Yon wanton lamb has cropt the woodbine's pride, 
 
 That bent beneath a full-blown load of fweets, 
 
 And fill'd the air with perfume ; fee it falls j 
 
 The bufv bees, with many a murmur fad, 235 
 
 Hang o'er their honied lofs. Why is it thus ? 
 
 Ah, why muft Art defend the friendly fhades 
 
 She rear'd to fhield you from the noontide beam ? 
 
 Traitors, forbear to wound them ! fay, ye fools ! 
 
 Does your rich herbage fail ? do acrid leaves 240 
 
 Afford you daintier food ? 1 plead in vain j 
 
 For now the father of the fleecy troop 
 
 Begins his devaluation, and his ewes 
 
 Croud to the fpoil, with imitative zeal. 
 
 Since then, conftrain'd, we muft expel the flock 245 
 From where our faplings rife, our flow'rets bloom, 
 The fong fhall teach, in clear preceptive notes. 
 How beft to frame the Fence 3 and bed to hide 
 
 All 
 
( 40 ) 
 All its forefeen defects ; defective ftill, 
 Tho' hid with happieft art. Ingrateful fure 250 
 
 When fuch the theme, becomes the Poet's tafk : 
 Yet muft he try, by modulation meet 
 Of varied cadence, and felecled phrafe, 
 Exa& yet free, without inflation bold, 
 To dignify that theme, muft try to form 255 
 
 Such magic fympathy of fenfe with found 
 As pictures all it fings ; while Grace awakes 
 At each bleft touch, and, on the lowlieft things, 
 Scatters her rainbow hues. — The firft and beft 
 Is that, which, finking from our eye, divides, 260 
 
 Yet feems not to divide the fhaven lawn, 
 And parts it from the pafture j for if there 
 Sheep feed, or dappled deer, their wandering teeth 
 Will, fmoothly as the* fcythe, the herbage fhave, 
 And leave a kindred-verdure. This to keep 265 
 
 Heed that thy labourer fcoop the trench with care j 
 For fome there are who give their fpade repofe, 
 When broad enough the perpendicular fides 
 Divide, and deep defcend : To form perchance 
 Some needful drain, fuch labour may fuflice, 270 
 
 Yet not for beauty : here thy range of wall 
 Muft lift its height erect, and, o'er its head 
 
( 4* ) 
 A verdant veil of fweiling turf expand, 
 While fmoothly from its bafe with gradual eafe 
 The pafture meets its level, at that point 2~ ", 
 
 Which beft deludes our eye, and beft conceals 
 Thy lawn's brief limit. Down fo fmooth a Hope 
 The fleecy foragers will gladly browfe ; 
 The velvet herbage free from weeds obfeens 
 Shall fpread its equal carpet, and the trench 280 
 
 Be pafture to its bafe. Thus form thy fence 
 Of ftone, for ftone alone, and pil'd on high, 
 Beft curbs the nimble deer, that love to range 
 Unlimited j but where tame heifers feed, 
 Or innocent fheep, an humbler mound will ferve 285 
 Unlin'd with ftone, and but a green- fwerd trench. 
 Here midway down, upon the nearer bank 
 Plant thy thick row of thorns, and, to defend 
 Their infant {hoots, beneath, on oaken ftakes, 
 Extend a raU of elm, fecurely arm'd 290 
 
 With fpiculated pailing, in fuch fort 
 As, round fome citadel, the engineer 
 Directs his fharp ftoccade. But when the fhoots 
 Condenfe, and interweave their prickly boughs 
 Impenetrable, then withdraw their guard, 295 
 
 They've done their office j fcom thou to retain, 
 
 F What 
 
( 42 ) 
 What frowns like military art, in fcenes. 
 Where Peace mould fmile perpetual. Thefe deftroy'd, 
 Make it thy vernal care, when April calls 
 New fhoots to birth, to trim the hedge aflaunt, 300 
 And mould it to the roundnefs of the mound, 
 Itfelf a (helving hill ; nor need we here 
 The rule or line precife, a cafual glance 
 Suffices to direct the carelefs fheers. 
 
 Yet learn, that each variety of ground 305 
 
 Claims its peculiar barrier. When the fofs 
 Can fteal tranfverfe before the central eye, 
 'Tis duly drawn ; but, up yon neighb'ring hill 
 That fronts the lawn direct, if labour delve 
 The yawning chafm, 'twill meet, not crofs our view; 
 No foliage can conceal, no curve correct 311 
 
 The deep deformity. And yet thou mean'ft 
 Up yonder hill to wind thy fragrant way, 
 And wifely doft thou mean ; for its broad eye 
 Catches the fuddcn charms of laughing vales, 31$ 
 
 Rude rocks and headlong dreams, and antique oaks 
 Loft in a wild horizon j yet the path 
 That leads to all thefe charms expects defence : 
 Here then fufpend the fportfman's hempen toils, 
 
 And 
 
( 43 ) 
 And flretch their me/hes on the light fupport 320 
 
 Of hazel plants, or draw thy lines of wire 
 In fivefold parallel ; no danger then 
 That fheep invade thy foliage. To thy herds, 
 And paftur'd fteeds an opener fence oppofe, 
 Form'd by a triple row of cordage ftrong, 325 
 
 Tight drawn the flakes between. The fimple deer 
 Is curb'd by mimic fnares ; the flendereft twine* 
 (If Sages err not) that the Beldame fpins 
 When by her wintry lamp (he plies her wheel, 
 Arrefts his courage ; his impetuous hoof, 330 
 
 Broad cheft, and branching antlers nought avail ; 
 In fearful gaze he ftands ; the nerves that bore 
 His bounding pride o'er lofty mounds of ftone, 
 A fingle thread defies. Such force has Fear, 
 When vifionary Fancy wakes the fiend, 335 
 
 In brute, or man, raoft powerful when moft vain. 
 
 Still muft the Swain, who fpreads tbefe corded guards 
 Expect their fwift decay. The noontide beams 
 Relax, the nightly dews contract the twift. 
 Oft too the coward hare, then only bold 340 
 
 When mifchief prompts, or wintry famine pines, 
 
 F 2 Will 
 
 * Ver. 337, Note XV, 
 
C 44 ) 
 Will quit her rufh-grown form, and fteal, with ear 
 Up-prick'd, to gnaw the toils ; and oft the ram 
 And jutting fleer drive their entangling horns 
 Thro' the frail mefhes, and, by many a chafm, 34.5 
 Proclaim their hate of thraldom. Nothing brooks 
 Confinement, fave degenerate Man alone, 
 Who deems a monarch's fmile can gild his chains. 
 Tir'd then, perchance, of nets that daily claim 
 Thy renovating labour, thou wilt form, 350 
 
 With elm and oak, a ruftic baluftrade 
 Of firmed juncture ; happy could thy toil 
 Make it as fair as firm ; yet vain the wifh, 
 Aim but to hide, not grace its formal line. 
 
 Let thofe, who weekly, from the city's fmoke, 355 
 Croud to each neishb'rino; hamlet, there to hold 
 
 DO ' 
 
 Their dufty Sabbath, tip with gold and red 
 The milk-white palifades, that Gothic now, 
 And now Chinefe, now neither, and yet bcth, 
 Checquer thefr trim domain. Thy fylvan fcene 36a 
 Would fade, indignant at the tawdrv glare. 
 
 'Tis thine alone to feek what fhadowy hues 
 Tir,ging thy fence may !o!e it in the lawn j 
 
 And 
 
( 45 ) 
 And thefe to give thee Painting muft defcend 
 Ev'n to her meaneft office; grind, compound, 365 
 
 Compare, and by the diftanced eye decide. 
 
 For this fhe firft, with fnowy cerufe, joins 
 The ochr'ous atoms that chalybeate rills 
 Wafh from their mineral channels, as they glide, 
 In flakes of earthy gold ; with thefe unites 370 
 
 A tinge of blue, or that deep azure gray, 
 Form'd from the calcin'd fibres of the vine ; 
 And, if me blends, with fparing hand me blends 
 That bafe metallic drug then only priz'd, 
 When, aided by the humid touch of Time, 375 
 
 It gives a Nero's or fome tyrant's cheek, 
 Its precious canker. Thefe with fluent oil 
 Attemperd, on thy lengthening rail fhall fprcad 
 That fober olive-green which Nature wears 
 Ev'n on her vernal bofom ; nor mifdeem, 380 
 
 For that, illumin'd with the noontide ray, 
 She boafts a brighter garment, therefore Art 
 A livelier verdure to thy aid mould bring. 
 Know when that Art, with ev'ry varied hue, 
 Portrays the living landfcape ; when her hand 385 
 
 Commands the canvafs plane to glide with ftreams, 
 
 To 
 
( 46 ) 
 To wave with foliage, or with flowers to breathe, 
 Cool olive tints, in foft gradation laid, 
 Create the general herbage : there alone, 
 Where darts, with vivid force, the ray fupreme, 390 
 Unfullied verdure reigns ; and tells our eye 
 It dole its bright reflection from the fun. 
 
 The paint is fpread ; the barrier pales retire, 
 Snatch'd, as by magic, from the gazer's view. 
 So, when the fable enfign of the night, 395 
 
 Unfurl'd by mift-impelling Eurus, veils 
 The laft red radiance of declining day, 
 Each fcatter'd village, and each holy fpire 
 That deck'd the diftance of the fylvan fcene, 
 Are funk in fudden gloom : The plodding hind, 400 
 That homeward hies, kens not the chearing fite 
 Of his calm cabbin, which, a moment pair, 
 Stream'd from its roof an azure curl of fmoke, 
 Beneath the flickering coppice, and gave fign 
 Of warm domeftic welcome from his toil. 403 
 
 Nor is that Cot, of which fond Fancy draws 
 
 This cafual picture, alien from our theme. 
 
 Revifit it at morn j its opening latch, 
 
 Tho* 
 
( 4.7 ) 
 Tho' Penury and Toil within refide, 
 ShalL pour thee forth a youthful progeny 41O 
 
 Glowing with health and beauty : (fuch the dower 
 Of equal heav'n) fee, how the ruddy tribe 
 Throng round the threfhold, and, with vacant gaze, 
 Salute thee ; call the loiterers into ufe, 
 And form of thefe thy fence, the living fence 415 
 
 That graces what it guards. Thou think'ft, perchance, 
 That, fkiU'd in Nature's heraldry, thy art 
 Has, in the limits of yon fragrant tuft, 
 Marfhall'd each rofe, that to the eye of June 
 Spreads its peculiar crimfon ; do not err, 420 
 
 The lovelieft ftill is wanting ; the frefh rofe 
 Of Innocence, it blofibms on their cheek, 
 And, lo, to thee they bear it ! driving all, 
 In panting race, who firft fhall reach the lawn, 
 Proud to be call'd thy fhepherds. Want, alas ! 425 
 Has o'er their little limbs her livery hung, 
 In many a tatter'd fold, yet ftill thofe limbs 
 Are fhapely ; their rude locks ftart from their brow, 
 Yet, on that open brow, its deareft throne, 
 Sits fweet Simplicity. Ah, clothe the troop 430 
 
 In fuch a rufTet garb as beft befits 
 Their paftoral office ; let the leathern fcrip 
 
 Swino: 
 
( 43 ) 
 Swing at their fide, tip thou their crook with Heel, 
 And braid their hat with rufhes, then to each 
 Aflign his ftation ; at the clofe of eve, 435 
 
 Be it their care to pen in hurdled cote 
 The flock, and when the matin prime returns, 
 Their care to ftt them free ; yet watching ftill 
 The liberty they lend, oft fhalt thou hear 
 Their whittle fhrill, and oft their faithful dog 4^0 
 
 Shall with obedient barkings fright the flock 
 From wrong or robbery. The livelong day 
 Meantime rolls lightly o'er their happy heads j 
 They bafk on funny hillocks, or defport 
 In ruftic paftime, while that lovelieft grace, 445 
 
 Which only lives in action unreftrain'd, 
 To ev'ry fimple gefture lends a charm. 
 
 Pride of the year, purpureal Spring ! attend, 
 And, in the cheek of thefe fweet innocents 
 Behold your beauties piclur'd. As the cloud 450 
 
 That weeps its moment from thy fapphire heav'n, 
 They frown with caufelefs forrow ; as the beam, 
 Gilding that cloud, with caufelefs mirth they fmile. 
 Stay, pitying Time ! prolong their vernal blifs. 
 Alas ! ere we can note it in our fong, 455 
 
 Comes 
 
( 49 ) 
 Comes manhood's feverifh fummer, chill'd full foon 
 By cold autumnal care, till wintry age 
 Sinks in the frore fe verity of death. 
 
 Ah ! who, when fuch life's momentary dream, 
 Would mix in hireling fenates, ftrenuous there 460 
 To crufh the venal Hydra, whofe fell crefts 
 Rife with recruited venom from the wound ? 
 Who, for fo vain a conflict, would forego 
 Thy fylvan haunts, celeftial Solitude ! 
 Where felf-improvement, crown'd with felf- content, 
 Await to blefs thy votary ? Nurtur'd thus 466 
 
 In tranquil groves, lift'ning to Nature's voice, 
 Thatpreach'd from whifpering trees, and babbling brooks, 
 A leflbn feldom learnt in Reafon's fchool, 
 The wife Sidonian liv'd * : and, tho' the peft 470 
 
 Of lawlefs tyranny around him rag'd ; 
 Tho' Strato, great alone in Perfla's gold, 
 Uncall'd, unhallow'd by the people's choice, 
 Ufurp'd the throne of his brave anceftors, 
 Yet was his foul all peace ; a garden's care 475 
 
 His only thought, its charms his only pride, 
 
 G But 
 
 * Ver. 47©, Note XVI, 
 
( 50 ) 
 But now the conquering arms of Macedon 
 Had humbled Perfia. Now Phaenicia's realm 
 Receives the Son of Amnion ; at whofe frown 
 Her tributary kings or quit their thrones, 480 
 
 Or at his fmile retain j and Sidon, now 
 Freed from her tyrant, points the Victor's ftep 
 To where her rightful Sov'reign, doubly dear 
 By birth and virtue, prun'd his garden grove. 
 
 'Twas at that early hour, when now the fun 485 
 Behind majeffic Lebanon's dark veil 
 Hid his afcending fplendor ; yet thro' each 
 Her cedar-vefted fides, his flaunting beams 
 Shot to the ftrand, and purpled all the main, 
 "Where Commerce faw her Sidon's freighted wealth, 40,0 
 With languid ftreamers, and with folded fails, 
 Float in a lake of gold. The wind was hufh'd ; 
 And, to the beach, each flowly-lifted wave, 
 Creeping with filver curl, juit kift the fhore, 
 And flept in filence. At this tranquil hour 495' 
 
 Did Sidon's fenate, and the Grecian holt, 
 Led by the conqueror of the world, approach 
 The fecret glade that veil'd the man of toil. 
 
 NiW 
 
( 5i ) 
 Now near the mountain's foot the chief arriv'd, 
 Where, round that glade, a pointed aloe fcreen, 500 
 Entwin'd with myrtle, met in tangled brakes, 
 That bar'd all entrance, fave at one low gate, 
 Whofe time-disjointed arch with ivy chain'd, 
 Bad ftoop the warrior train. A pathway brown 
 Led thro' the pafs, meeting a fretful brook, 505 
 
 And wandering near its channel, while it leapt 
 O'er many a rocky fragment, where rude Art 
 Had eas'd perchance, but not prefcrib'd its way. 
 
 Clofe was the vale and fhady ; yet ere long 
 Its foreft fides retiring, left a lawn 510 
 
 Of ample circuit, where the widening nream, 
 Now o'er its pebbled channel nimbly tript 
 In many a lucid maze. From the fiower'd verge 
 Of this clear rill now ftray'd the devious path, 
 Amid ambrofial tufts where fpicy plants,* 5:5 
 
 Weeping their perfum'd tears of myrrh, and nard, 
 Stood crown'd with Sharon's rofe; or where, apart, 
 The patriarch Palm his load of fugar'd dates 
 Shower'd plenteous ; where the Fig, of ftandard ftrength, 
 And rich Pomegranate, wrapt in dulcet pulp 520 
 
 Their racy feeds ; or where the citron's bou^h 
 
 G 2 Beni 
 
C 52 J 
 Bent with its load of golden fruit mature. 
 Meanwhile the lawn beneath the fcatter'd fhade 
 Spread its ferene extent ; a {lately file 
 Of circling Cyprefs rnark'd the diftant bound. 525 
 
 Now, to the left, the path afcending piere'd 
 A fmaller fylvan theatre, yet deck'd 
 With more majeftic foliage. Cedars here, 
 Coeval w,ith the fky-crown'd mountain's felf, 
 Spread wide their giant 21ms ; whence, from a rock 530 
 Craggy and black, that feem'd its fountain head, 
 The itream fell headlong; yet frill higher rofe, 
 Ev'n in th' eternal fnows of Lebanon, 
 That hallow'd fpring ; thence, in the porous earth 
 Long whi.le ingulph'd, its cryffcil weight here fore'd 535 
 Its way to light and freedom. Down it dafh'd ; 
 A bed of native marble pure receiv'd 
 The new-born Naiad, and repos'd her wave, 
 Till with o'er-flovving pride it fkim'd the lawn. 
 
 Fronting this lake there rofe a folemn grot, 
 O'er which an ancient vine luxuriant flung 
 Its purple duffers, and beneath its roof 
 An unhewn altar. Rich Sabaean gums 
 
 540 
 
 That 
 
( 53 ) 
 
 That altar pil'd, and there with torch of pine 
 
 The venerable Sage, now firft defcry'd, 545 
 
 The fragrant indenfe kindled. Age had fhed 
 
 That duft of filver o'er his fable locks, 
 
 Which fpoke his ftrength mature beyond its prime, 
 
 Yet vigorous frill, for from his healthy cheek 
 
 Time had not cropt a rofe, or on his brow 550 
 
 One wrinkling furrow plow'd ; his eagle eye 
 
 Had all its youthful lightning, and each limb 
 
 The finewy ftrength that toi\ demands, and gives. 
 
 The warrior faw and paus'd : his nod withheld 
 The crowd at awful diftance, where their ears, 55^ 
 In mute attention, drank the Sage's prayer. 
 c Parent of good (he cried ) behold the gifts 
 8 Thy humble votary brings, and may thy fmile 
 ' Hallow his cuftom'd offering. Let the hand 
 8 That deals in blood, with blood thy fhrines difrain ; 
 8 Be mine this harmlefs tribute. If it fpeaks 561 
 
 8 A grateful heart, can hecatombs do more ? 
 8 Parent of Good ! they cannot. Purple Pomp 
 ' May call thy prefence to a prouder fane 
 8 Than this poor cave ; but will thy prefence there 565 
 8 Be more devoutly felt ? Parent of Good [ 
 
 "It 
 
C 54 ) 
 •< It will not. Here then, fhall the proftrate heart., 
 li That deeply feels thy prefence, lift its pray'r. 
 *' But what has he to afk who nothing needs, 
 " Save, what unafk'd, is, from thy heav'n of heav'us 
 < x Giv'n in diurnal good ? Yet, holy Power I 571 
 
 " Do all that call thee Father thus exult 
 li . In thy propitious prefence ? Sidon finks 
 6C Beneath a tyrant's fcourge. parent of Good {■ 
 " Oh free my captive country."~Sudden here 575 
 He paus'd and figh'd. And now, the raptur'd crowd 
 Murmur'd applaufe: he heard, he turn'd, and faw 
 The King of Macedori with eager ftep 
 Eturft from his warrior phalanx. From the youth, 
 Who bore its flate, the conqueror's own right hand 580 
 Snatch'd the rich wreath, and bound, it on his brow. 
 His fwift attendants o'er his fhoulders caft 
 The robe of empire, while the trumpet's voice 
 Proclaim'd him King of Sidon. Stern he ftood, 
 Qr, if he fmil'd, 'twas a contemptuous fmile, 5S5 
 
 That held the pageant honours in difdain. 
 Then burft the people's voice, in loud acclaim, 
 And bad him be their Father. At the word, 
 ^The honour'd blood, that warm'd. him, flufh'd his cheek; 
 His brow expanded •> his exalted Hep 590 
 
 March'd 
 
( 55 ) 
 March'd firmer ; gracioufly ha bow'd the headj 
 And was the Sire they call'd him. " Tell me, l^ing," 
 Young Ammon cried, while o'er his bright'ning form 
 He caft the gaze of wonder, " how a foul 
 " Like thine could bear the toils of Penury ?" 595 
 
 " Oh grant me, Gods !" he anfwer'd, " fo to bear 
 " This load of Royalty. My toil wis crown'd 
 " With bleffings loft to Kings j yet, righteous Powers ! 
 " If to my country ye transfer the boon, 
 <{ I triumph in the lofs. Be mine the chains 600 
 
 " That fetter Sov'reignty ; let Sidon fmile 
 " With, your beft bleffings, Liberty and Peace." 
 
 END of the SECOND BOOK, 
 
 THE 
 
T H £ 
 
 ENGLISH GARDEN. 
 
 BOOK THE THIRD, 
 
 H 
 
 T H E 
 
( 59 ) 
 
 THE 
 
 ENGLISH GARDEN. 
 BOOK THE THIRD. 
 
 GLOS'D is that curious ear, by Death's cold hand, 
 That mark'd each error of my carelefs ftrain 
 With kind feverity ; to whom my Mufe 
 Still lov'd to whifper, what fhe meant to fing 
 In louder accent j to whofe tafte fupreme 5 
 
 She firft and laft appeal'd, nor wifh'd for praife, 
 Save wh(?n his fmile was herald to her fame. 
 Yes, thou art gone; yet Friendship's fault'ring tongue 
 Invokes thee flill ; and (till, by Fancy footh'd, 
 Fain would fhe hope her Gray attends the call. 10 
 Why then, alas ! in this my fav'rite haunt, 
 Place I the Urn, the Butt, the fculptur'd Lyre, * 
 Or fix this votive tablet, fair infcrib'd 
 With numbers worthy thee, for they are thine ? 
 Why, if thou hear'ft me flill, thefe fymbols fa.d , 15 
 Of fond memorial ? Ah ! my penfive foul ! 
 He hears me not, nor ever more (hall hear 
 The theme his candour, not his tide approv'd. 
 
 H 2 Oft, 
 
 * Ver, ij, Note XVII. 
 
( 60 ) 
 Oft, c fmiling as in fcorn,' oft would he cry, 
 fcC Why wafte thy numbers on a trivial art, 20 
 
 " That ill can mimic even the humblcft charms 
 " Of all-majeftic Nature ?" at the word 
 His eve would gliflen, and his accents glow 
 With all the Poet's frenzy, " Sov'reign Queen ! 
 " Behold, and tremble, while thou view'ft her irate 25 
 " Thron'd on the heights of Skiddaw : call thy art 
 " To build her fuch a throne ; that art will feel 
 4 '- How vain her beft pretenfions. Trace her march 
 tf< Amid the purple craggs of Borrowdale ; 
 " And try like thofe to pile thy range of rock 30 
 
 " In rude tumultuous chaos. See ! the mounts 
 " Her Naiad car, and, down Lodore's drcuct clifF 
 *« Falls many a 'fathom, like the headlong Bard 
 " My fabling fancy plung'd in Conwav's rlood; 
 " Yet not like him to fink in endlefs night : 35 
 
 " For, on its boiling bofom, ftill fne guides 
 " Her buoyant (hell, and leads the wave along ; 
 <: Or fpreads it broad, a river, or a lake, 
 " As fuits her pleafure ; will thy boldeft fong 
 *« E'er brace the finews of enervate art ' 40 
 
 " To fuch dread daring ? will it ev'n direct 
 ** Her hand to emulate thofe fofter charms 
 
 « That 
 
( *€ ) 
 
 That deck the banks of Dove, or call to birth 
 The bare romantic craggs, and copfes green, 
 That fidelong grace her circuit, whence the rills, 45 
 Bright in their cryftal purity, defeend 
 To meet their fparkling Queen ? around each founft 
 The haw-thorns croud, and knit their bloflbm'd fpraV's 
 To keep thcit" faurces lacred. Here, even here, 
 Thy art, each active fmew flretch'd in vain, 50 
 
 Would perifh in its pride. Far rather thou 
 Confefs her (canty power, correct, controul, 
 Tell her how far, nor farther, file may go ; 
 And rein with Reafon's curb fantaftic Tafie." 
 
 Yes I will hear thee, dear lamented Shade, 55 
 
 And hold each dilate facred. What remains 
 Unfung (hall fo each leading rule feleft 
 As if ftill guided by thy judgment fage ; 
 While, as ftill modell'd to thy curious ear, 
 Flow my melodious numbers j fo fhall praife, 6q 
 
 If ought of praife the verfe I weave may claim, 
 From jufl Pofterity reward my fong. 
 
 Erewhile to trace the path, to form the fence, 
 To mark the deltin'd limits of the lawn, 
 
 ^e, 
 
( 62 ) 
 
 The Mufe, with meafur'd ftep, preceptive, pac*d. 65 
 Now from the furface with impatient flight 
 She mounts, Sylvanus ! o'er thy world of fhade 
 To fpread her pinions. Open all thy glades, 
 Qreet her from all thy echoes. Orpheus-like, 
 Arm'cf with the fpells of harmony fhe comes, 70 
 
 To lead thy forefts forth to lovelier haunts, 
 Where Fancy waits to fix them ; from the dell 
 Where now they lurlc (he calls them to pofTefs 
 Confpicuous ftations ; to their varied forms 
 Allots congenial place ; felects, divides, 75 
 
 And blends anew in one Elyzian fcene. 
 
 Yet, while I thus exult, my weak tongue feels 
 Its ineffectual powers, and feeks in vain 
 That force cf antient phrafe which, Jpeaking, paints, 
 And is the thing it fings. Ah Virgil ! why, 80 
 
 By thee neglected, was this lovelieft theme 
 Left to the grating voice of modern reed ?. 
 Why not array it in the fplendid robe 
 Of thy rich diction, and confign the charge 
 To Fame thy hand-maid, whole immortal plume 85 
 Had bora its praife beyond the bounds of Time ? 
 
 Courjtlcfs- 
 
( 63 ) 
 
 Countlefs is Vegetation's verdant brood 
 As are *he ftars that ftud yon cope of heaven ; 
 To marfhal all her tribes, in order'd file 
 Generic, or fpecific, might demand 93 
 
 His fcience, wond'rous Swede ! whofe ample mifid 
 Like antient Tadmor's philofophic king, 
 Stretch'd from the Hyflbp creeping on the wall 
 To Lebanon's proudeff. cedars. Skill like this, 
 Which fpans a third of Nature's copious realm, 9$ 
 Our art requires not, fedulous alone 
 To note thofe general properties of form, 
 pimenfion, growth, duration, ftrength, and hue. 
 Then firft impreft, when, at the dawn of time, 
 The form-deciding, life-infpiring word IOC) 
 
 " Pronounc'd them into beiDg. Thefe prime marks 
 Diftinctive, docile Memory makes her own, 
 That each its fhadowy fuccour may fupply 
 To her wifh'd purpofe ; firft, with needful fhade, 
 To veil whate'er of wall, or fence uncouth 1 05 
 
 Difgufts the eye, which tyrant Ufe has rear'd, 
 And ftern Neceflity forbids to change. 
 
 Lur'd by their hafty fhoocs, and branching (terns, 
 planters there are who chufe the race of Pine 
 
 For 
 
( 64 ) 
 For this great end, erroneous; witlefs they no 
 
 That, as their arrowy heads aflault the fky, 
 They leave their fhafts unfeather'd : rather thou 
 Select the fhrubs that, patient of the knife, 
 Will thank thee for the wound, the hardy Thorn, 
 Holly, or Box, Privet, or Pyracanth. 115 
 
 They, thickening from their bafe, with tenfold fhade 
 Will fopn rcplenifli all thy judgment prun'd. 
 
 But chief, with willing aid, her glittering green 
 Shall England's Laurel bring; fwift Avail fjie fpread 
 Her broad-leav'd fhade, and float it fair, and wide, 123 
 Proud to be call'd an inmate of the foil. 
 Let England prise this daughter of the Eaft* 
 Beyond that Latian plant, of kindred name, 
 That wreath'd the head of Julius ; bafely twin'd 
 Its flattering foliage on the traitor's brow 125 
 
 Who crufh'd his country's freedom. Sacred tree, 
 Ne'er be thy brighter verdure thus debas'd ! 
 Far happier thou, in this fequefter'd bower, 
 To fhroud thy Poet, who, with foiVring hand-, 
 J-Iere bade thee flourifh, and with grateful ftrain 13© 
 Now chaunts the praife of thy maturer bloom. 
 And happier far that Poet, if, fceure 
 
 * Ver. 123, Note XVIIIv His 
 
( 6 5 ) 
 
 His Hearth and Altars from the pilfering Ikves 
 
 Of Power, his little eve of lonely life 
 
 May here Ileal on, bleft with the heartfelt calm 135 
 
 That competence and liberty infpire. 
 
 Nor are the plants which England calls her own 
 Few, or unlovely, that, with laurel join'd> 
 And kindred foliage of perennial green, 
 Will form a clofe-knit curtain. Shrubs there are 140 
 Of bolder growth, that, at the call of Spring, 
 Burft forth in bloffbm'd fragrance : Lilacs rob'd 
 In fnow-white innocence, or purple pride ; 
 The fweet Syringa yielding but in fcent 
 To the rich Orange ; or the Woodbine wild 14.5 
 
 That loves to hang, on barren boughs remote, 
 Her wreaths of flowery perfume. Thefe befide 
 Myriads, that here the Mufe neglects to name 9 
 Will add a vernal luftre to thy veil. 
 
 And what if chance collects the varied tribes, 150 
 Yet fear not thou but unexpected charms 
 Will from their union ftart. But if our fong 
 Supply one precept here, it bids retire 
 Each leaf of deeper dye, and lift in front 
 
 I Foliare 
 
( 66 ) 
 Foliage of paler verdure, fo to fpread 155 
 
 A canvafs, which when touch'd by Autumn'b hand 
 Shall gleam with dufky gold, or ruffet rays. 
 ]3ut why prepare for her funereal hand 
 That canvafs ? fhe but comes to drefs thy fhad.es, 
 As lovelier victims for their wintry tomb. 160 
 
 Rather to flowery Spring, to Summer bright, 
 Thy labour confecrate ; their laughing reign, 
 The youth, the manhood of the growing year, 
 Deferves that labour, and rewards its pain. 
 Yet, heedful ever of that ruthlefs time 163 
 
 When Winter fhakes their ftems, preferve a file 
 With everduring leaf to brave his arm, 
 And deepening fpread their undiminim'd gloom. 
 
 But, if the tall defect demands a fcreeu 
 Of forefl fliade high-tow'ring, fome brqad roof i~o 
 Perchance of glaring tile that guards the (lores 
 Of Ceres ; or the patch'd disjointed choir 
 Of fome old Fane, whofe fteeple's Gothic pride 
 Or pinnacled, or fpir'd, would bolder rife 
 * In tufted trees high bofom'd,' here allot 175 
 
 Convenient fpace to plant that lofty tribe 
 Behind thy underwood, left, o'er it's head 
 
 The 
 
( 6; ) 
 The forefl: tyrants fhakc their lordly arms ; 
 And fhed their baleful dews. Each plant that fprings 
 Holds, like the people of fome free-born ftate, 180 
 
 Its rights fair franchis'd ; rooted to a fpot 
 It yet has claim to air ; from liberal heav'n 
 It yet has claim to funfhine, and to fhowers «. 
 Air, fhowers, and funfhine are its liberty. 
 
 That liberty fecur'd, a general fhadc, 185 
 
 Denfe and impervious, to thy wifh fhall rife 
 To hide each form uncouth ; and, this obtain'J, 
 What next we from the Dryad powers implore 
 Is Grace, is Ornament : For fee ! our lawn, 
 Though oloath'd with foftcft verdure, though reliev'd 
 By many a gentle fall and eafy fwell, 19 1 
 
 Expects that harmony of light, and fhadc, 
 Which foliage only gives. Come then, ye plants ! 
 That, like the village troop when Maia dawns, 
 Delight to mingle focial ; to the creft 195 
 
 Of yonder brow we fafely may conduit 
 Your numerous train ; no eye obftruclcd there 
 Will blame your interpos'd fociety : 
 But, on the plain below, in fingle ftcms 
 Difparted, or in fparing groups diftinct, 200 
 
 I 2 Wide 
 
C 68 ) 
 Wide muft ye frand, in wild, diforder'd mood, 
 As if the feeds from which your fcyons fprang 
 Had there been fcatter'd from the affrighted beak 
 Of fome maternal bird whom the fierce Hawk 
 Purfued with felon claw. Her, young meanwhile 205 
 Callow, and cold, from their mofs-woven neft 
 Peep forth ; they ftretch their little eager throaty 
 Broad to the wind, and plead to the lone fpray 
 Their famifh'd plaint importunately fluill. 
 
 Yet in this wild diforder Art prefides, 2 10 
 
 Defigns, corrects, and regulates the whole, 
 Herfelf the while unfeen. No Cedar broad 
 Props his dark curtain where a diftant fcene 
 Demands diftinclion. Here the thin abele 
 Of lofty bole, and bare, the fmoofh-ftem'd beech, 215 
 Or {lender alder, give our eye free fpace 
 Beneath their boughs to catch each leffening charm 
 Ev'n to the far horizon's azure bound. 
 
 Nor will that fov'reign Arbitrefs admit. 
 Where'er her nod decrees a mafs of fhade, 229 
 
 Plants of unequal fize, difcordant kind, 
 Or rul'd by Foliation's different laws 5 
 
 But 
 
( 69 ) 
 But for that needful purpofe thofe prefers 
 Whofe hues are friendly, whofe coeval leaves 
 The earlieft open, and the lateft fade. 22^ 
 
 Nor will fhe, fcoming truth and tafte, devote 
 To ftrange, and alien foils, her feedling ftems ; 
 Fix the dank fallow on the mountain's brow, 
 Or, to the mofs-grown margin of the lake, 
 Bid the dry pine defcend. From Nature's laws 23Q 
 She draws her own : Nature and fhe are one. 
 
 Nor will me, led by fafliion's lure, felecl:. 
 For objects interpos'd, the pigmy race 
 Of fhrubs, or fcatter with unmeaning hand 
 Their offspring o'er the lawn, fcorning to patch 23.C 
 With many a meagre and disjointed tuft 
 Its fober furface : fjdelong to^ her path 
 And polifh'd foreground fhe confines their growth 
 Where o'er their heads the liberal eye mav range. 
 
 Nor will her prudence, when intent to form 240 
 One perfect: whole, on feeble aid depend, 
 And give exotic wonders to our gaze. 
 She knows and therefore fears the faithlefs train : 
 
 Sagdv 
 
( '/o ) 
 
 Sagely fhe calh on thofe of hardy clafs 
 Indigenous, who, patient of the change 245 
 
 From heat to cold which Albion hourly feels, 
 Are brae'd with ftrength to brave it. Thele alone 
 She plants, and prunes, nor grieves if nicer eyes 
 Pronounce them vulgar. Thefe fhe call's her friends, 
 That veteran troop who will not for a blaft 250 
 
 Of nipping air, like cowards, quit the field. 
 
 Far to the north of thy imperial towers, 
 Augufta ! in that wild and Alpine vale, 
 Thro' which the Swale, by mountain-torrents fwell'd, 
 Flings his redundant ftream, there liv'd a youth 255 
 Of polifh'd manners ; ample his domain, 
 And fair the fite of his paternal dome. 
 He lov'd the art I ling ; a deep adept 
 In Nature's ftory, well he knew the names 
 Of all her verdant lineage j yet that fkill 260 
 
 Mifled his taftc ; fcornful of every bloom 
 That fpreads fpontancous, from remotefr. Ind 
 He brought his foliage ; carekfs of its coft, 
 Ev'n of its beauty carelefs ; it was rare, 
 And therefore beauteous. Now his laurel fcreen, 265 
 With rofe and woodbine negligently wove, 
 
 Bows 
 
( 7* ) 
 Bows to the axe ; the rich Magnolias claim 
 The ftation ; now Herculean Beeches fell'd 
 Refign their rights, and warm Virginia fends 
 Her Cedars to ufurp them ; the proud Oak 270 
 
 Himfelf, ev'n He the fov'reign of the fhade, 
 Yields to the Fir that drips with Gilead's balm. 
 Now Albion gaze at glories net thy own ! 
 Paufe, rapid Swale ! and fee thy margin crown'd 
 With all the pride of Ganges : vernal fhowers 275 
 
 Have fix'd their roots ; nutricious fummer funs 
 Favor'd their growth ; and mildeft autumn fmil'd 
 Benignant o'er them : vigorous, fair, and tall, 
 They waft a gale of fpices o'er the plain. 
 But Winter comes, and with him watry Jove, 28.0 
 
 And with him Boreas in his frozen fhroud ; 
 The lavage fpirit of old Swale is rous'd -, 
 He howls amidft his foam. At the dread fight 
 The Aliens ftand aghaft; they bow their heads. 
 In vain the glafly penthoufe is fupply'd : 2?< 
 
 The pelting ftorm with icy bullets breaks 
 Its fragile barrier; fee ! they fade, they die. 
 
 Warn'd by his error, let the Planter flight 
 Thefe fhiv'ring rarities ; or if, to pleafe 
 
 Faftidiojie 
 
( n ) 
 
 Faftidious Fafliion, he muft needs allot 200 
 
 Some fpace for foreign foliage, let him chufe 
 
 A fidelong glade, fheker'd from eaft and north, 
 
 And free to fouthern and to weftern gales j 
 
 There let him fix their ftation, thither wind 
 
 Some devious path, that, from the chief defign 29$ 
 
 Detach'd, may lead to where they fafely bloom. 
 
 So in the web of epic fong fublime 
 
 The Bard Mseonian interweaves the charrrt 
 
 Of fofter epifode, yet leaves unbroke 
 
 The golden thread of his majeftic theme. 300 
 
 What eife to fhun of formal, falfe, or vain, 
 Of long-lin'd Viftas, or plantations quaint 
 Our former {trains have taught. Inftru&ion now 
 Withdraws ; fhe knows her limits j knows that Grace 
 Is caught by ftrong perception, not from rules ; 305 
 That undreft Nature claims for all her limbs 
 Some fimple garb peculiar, which, howe'er 
 Diftin£r. their fize and fhape, is fimple ftill : 
 This crarb to chufe, with clothing denfe, or thin, 
 A part to hide, another to adorn, 310 
 
 Is Tafte's important talk j preceptive fortg 
 From error in the choice can only warn. 
 
 But 
 
( 73 ) 
 
 But vaih that warning voice ; vain ev'ry aid 
 Of Genius, Judgment, Fancy, to fecure 
 The Planter's lading fame : There is a power, 315 
 A hidden power, at once his friend, and foe : 
 s Tis Vegetation. Gradual to his groves 
 She gives their wifh'd effect; and, that difplay'd, 
 Oh, that her power would paufe ! but active ftill, 
 She fwells each Item, prolongs each vagrant bough, 
 And daits with uhremitting vigour bold 321 
 
 From Grace to wild luxuriance. Happier far 
 Are you, ye fons of Claude ! who, from the mine, 
 The earth, or juice of herb or flower concrete, 
 Mingle the mafs whence your Arcadias fpring : 325 
 The beauteous outline of your pielur'd (hades 
 Still keeps the bound you gave it ; Time that pales 
 Your vivid hues, refpedts- your pleafmg forms. 
 Not fo our Landfcapes : though we paint like you, 
 We paint with growing colours ; ev'ry year, 330 
 
 O'erpaffing that which gives the breadth of (hade 
 We fought, by rude addition mars our fcene. 
 
 Roufe then, ye Hinds ! e'er yet yon cloflng boughs 
 Biot out the purple diilajice, fwift prevent 
 The fpreading evil : thin the crovrded grades, . 335 
 K While 
 
( 74 ) 
 While yet of' ilender fize each ftem will thrive 
 Tranfplanted : Twice repeat the annual toil ; 
 Nor let the axe its beak, the faw its tooth 
 Refrain, whene'er fome random branch has ftray'd 
 Beyond the bounds of beauty ; elfe full foon, 340 
 
 Ev'n e'er the Planter's life has paft its prime, 
 Will Albion's garden frown an Indian wild. 
 
 Forboding Fears avaunt ! be ours to urge 
 Each prefent purpofe by what favoring means 
 May work its end deftgn'd ; why deprecate 34.5 
 
 The change that waits on fublunary thing?, 
 Sad lot of their exiftence ? fhall we paufe 
 To give the charm of Water to our fcene, 
 For that the congregated rains may fvvell 
 Its tide into a flood ? or that yon Sun, 350 
 
 Now on the Lion mounted, to his noon 
 Impells him, fhaking from his fiery mane 
 A heat may parch its channel ? O, ye caves, 
 Deepen your dripping roofs ! this feverilh hour * 
 Claims all your coolnefs j in your humid cells 355 
 Permit me to forget the Planter's toil ; 
 And, while I woo your Naiads to my aid, 
 Involve me in impenetrable gloom. 
 
 * Ver. 354, Note XIX. S^ft 
 
( 75 ) 
 Bicft is the Man (if blifs be human boaft) 
 WhoU fertile foil is wafh'd with frequent dreams, 360 
 And iprings falubrious. He difdains to tofs 
 In rainbow dews their cryftal to the fun ; 
 Or fink in fubterranean cifterns deep ; 
 That fo, through leaden fiphons upward drawn, 
 Thofe ftreams may leap fantaftic. He his ear 365 
 
 Shuts to the tuneful trifling of the Bard, * 
 Who trick'd a gothic theme with clailic flowers. 
 And fung of Fountains burfting from the fhells 
 Of brazen Tritons, fpouting through the jaws 
 * Of Gorgons, Hydras, and Chimaeras dire.' 370 
 
 Peace to his Manes ! let the Nymphs of Seine 
 Cherifh his fame. Thy Poet, Albion ! fcorns, - 
 Ev'n for a cold unconfcious element 
 To forge the fetters he would fcorn to wear. 
 His fong fhall reprobate each effort vile, 37? 
 
 That aims to force the Genius of the ftream 
 Beyond his native height ; or dares to prefs 
 Above that deftin'd line th' unwilling wave. 
 
 Is there within the circle of thy view 
 
 (Some (edgy flat, where the late-ripen*d flieaves 380 
 
 K 2 Stand 
 
 * Ver. 3«, Note XX. 
 
f 76 ) 
 
 Stand brown with unbleft mildew ? 'tis the bed 
 On which an ample lake in cryftal peace 
 Might fleep majeftic. Paufeweyet; perchance 
 Some midway channel, where the foil declines, 
 Might there be delv'd, by levels duly led 385 
 
 Inbold and broken curves : for water loves 
 A wilder outline than the woodland path, 
 And winds with fhorter bend. * To drain the reft- 
 The fhelving fpade may toil, till wintry fhowers 
 Find their free courfe down each declining bank. 390, 
 Quit then the thought : a River's winding formj 
 With many a finuous bay, and Ifland green, 
 At lefs expence of labour and of land, 
 Will give thee equal beau.ty : feldom art 
 Can emulate that broad and bold extent 395 
 
 Which charms in native Lakes ; and, failing there, 
 Her works betray their character, and name, 
 And dwindle into pools. Not that our ftrain, 
 Faftidious, fhall difdain a fmall expanfe 
 Of ftagnant fluid, in feme fcene confin'dj r 40a 
 
 Circled with varied fhade, where, thro' the leaves, 
 The half-admitted funbeam trembling plays 
 On its clear bofom ; where aquatic fowl 
 Qf varied tribe, and varied feather fail ; 
 
 * Ver. 387, NpteXXI. Ai'4 
 
( 77 ) 
 And where the finny race their glittering fcales 46'j 
 Unwillingly reveal : There, there alone, 
 Where burfts the general profpecT: on our eye, 
 We fcorn thefe wat'ry patches : Thames himfelf, 
 Seen in disjointed fpots, where Sallows hide 
 His firft bold prefence, feems a firing of- pools, 41Q 
 A chart and compafs muft explain his courfe. 
 
 He, who would feize the River's fov'reign charm, 
 Muft wind the moving mirror through his lawn 
 Ev'n to remotcft diftance ; deep muft delve 
 The gravelly channel that prefcribes its courfe; 415- 
 Clofely conceal each terminating bound 
 By hill or fhade oppos'd ; and to its bank 
 Lifting the level of the copious ftream, 
 Muft there retain it. But, if thy faint fprings 
 Refufe this large fupply, fteel thy firm foul 420 
 
 With ftoic pride ;" imperfect charms defpife : 
 Beauty, like Virtue, knows no groveling mean. 
 
 Who but muft pity that penurious tafte, 
 Which down the quick-defcending vale prolongs, 
 Slope below flope, a ftiff and unlink'd chain 425 
 
 Of 
 
( 78 ) 
 
 Of flat canals ; then leads the ftranger's eye 
 
 To fome predeftin'd ftation, there to catch 
 
 Their feeming union, and the fraud :;pprdve ? 
 
 Who but rnuft change that pity into fcorn, 
 
 If down each verdant flope a narrow flight 430 
 
 Of central fteps decline, where the fpare dream 
 
 Steals trickling; or, withheld by cunning flail, 
 
 Hoards its fcant treafures, till the mailer's nod 
 
 Decree its fall : Then down the formal flairs 
 
 It leaps with fhort-liv'd fury ; wafting there, 43c 
 
 Poor prodigal ! what many a Summer's rain 
 
 And many a Winter's fnow lhall late reftore. 
 
 Learn that, whene'er in fome fublimer fcene 
 Imperial Nature of her headlong floods 
 permits our imitation, fhe herfel( 440 
 
 Prepares their refervoir; conceal'd perchance 
 In neighb'ring hills, where firft it well behoves 
 Our toil to fearch, and ftudioufly augment 
 The wat'ry ftore with fprings and fluices drawn 
 From pools, that on the heath drink up the rain. 445 
 Be thefe collected, like the Mifer's gold, 
 In one increafing fund, nor dare %o pour, 
 
 Down 
 
( 79 ) 
 Down thv irr pending mound, the bright cafcade, 
 Till richly fure of its redundant fall. 
 
 That mound to raife alike demands thy toil, 450 
 Ere Art adorn its furface. Here adopt 
 That facile mode which His inventive powers * 
 Firft plann'd, who led to rich Mancunium's mart 
 His long-drawn line of navigated ftream. 
 Stupendous talk ! in vain flood tow'ring hills 455 
 
 Oppos'd ; in vain did ample Irwell pour 
 Ker Tide tranfverfe : he piere'd the tow'ring hill, 
 He bridg'd the ample tide, and high in air, 
 And deep through earth, his freighted barge he bore. 
 This mode fhall tamper ev'n the lighteft foil 460 
 
 Firm to thy purpofe. Then let tafte felett 
 The unhewn fragments, that may give its front 
 A rocky rudenefs ; pointed fome, that there 
 The frothy fpouts may break ; fome flaunting fmooth, 
 That there in filver fheet the wave may Aide. 465 
 
 Here too infix fome mofs-grown trunks of oak 
 Romantic, turn'd by gelid lakes to ftone, 
 Yet fo difpos'd as if they owed their change 
 
 To 
 * Ver. 45a, Note XXII. 
 
( 80 ) 
 
 To what they now controul. Then open wide 
 Thy flood-gates ; then let down thy torrent : then 470 
 Rejoice ; as if the thund'ring Tees * himfelf 
 Reign'd there amid his cataracts fubUme. 
 
 And thou haft caufe for triumph ! Kings themfelves, 
 
 With all a nation's wealth, an army's toil, 
 
 If Nature frown averfe, (hall ne'er atchieve 475 
 
 Such wonders : Nature's was the glorious gift j 
 
 Thy art her menial handmaid. Liftening youths ! 
 
 To whoie ingenuous hearts I frill addrefs 
 
 The friendly (train, from fuch fevere attempt 
 
 Let Prudence warn you. Turn to this clear rill, 480 
 
 Which, while I bid your bold ambition ceafe, 
 
 Runs murmuring a t t my fide : O'er many a rood 
 
 Your (kill may lead the wanderer ; many a mound 
 
 Of pebbles raife, to fret her in her courfe 
 
 Impatient : louder then will be her fong : 485 
 
 For fhe will 'plain, and gurgle, as file goes, 
 
 As does the widow'd ring-dove. Take, vain Pomp ! 
 
 Thy lakes, thy long canals, thy trim cafeades, 
 
 Beyond them all true .arte will dearly prize . 
 
 This little dimpling treafure. Mark the cleft, 490 
 
 Through 
 * Ver. 47ii Note XXIII, 
 
 
( Si ) 
 
 through which file burfts to day. Behind that rock 
 
 A Naiad dwells : Lineia is her name; * 
 
 And (he has fitters in contiguous cells, 
 
 Who never favv the fun. Fond Fancy's eye, 
 
 That inly gives locality and form 495 
 
 To what fhe prizes beft, full oft pervades 
 
 Thofe hidden caverns, where pale chryfolites, 
 
 And glittering fpars dart a myfterious gleam 
 
 Of inborn luftre, from the garifn d iy 
 
 Unborrow'd. There, by the wild Goddefs led, 500 
 
 Oft have I feen them bending o'er their urns, 
 
 Chaunting alternate airs of Dorian mood, 
 
 While fmooth they comb'd their moift cerulean locks 
 
 With (hells of living pearl. Yes, let me own, 
 
 To thefe, or claffic deities like thefe, 505 
 
 From very childhood wts I prone to pay 
 
 Hcwmlefs idolatry. My infant eyes 
 
 Firft open'd on that bleak and boift'rous (hore, 
 
 Where Humber weds the nymphs of Trent and Oufe 
 
 To His, and Ocean's Tritons : thence full foon 510 
 
 My youth retir'd, and left the bufy ftrand 
 
 To Commerce and to Care. In Margaret's grove, f 
 
 Beneath whofe time-worn fhade old Camus fleeps, 
 
 L Was 
 
 * \>r, 491, Note XXIV.- — -f Vcr. ji», Note XXV, 
 
( 82 ) 
 
 Was next my tranquil (ration : Science there 
 
 Sat mufing ; and to thofe that lov'd the lore 515 
 
 Pointed, with myftic wand, to truths involv'd 
 
 In geometric fymbols, (corning thofe, 
 
 Ferchance too much, who woo'd the thriftlels mule, 
 
 Here, though in warbling whifper oft I breath'd 
 
 The lay, were wanting, what young Fancy deems 52*1 
 
 The lifc-fprings of her being, rocks, and caves, 
 
 And huddling brooks, and torrent-falls divine. 
 
 In queft of thefe, at Summer's vacant hour, 
 
 Pleas'd would I ftray, when in a northern vale, 
 
 So chance ordaih'd, a Naiad fad I found 525 
 
 Hobb'd of her filver vafe ; I footh'd the nymph 
 
 With fong of fympathy, and curft the fiend 
 
 Who (role the gift of Thetis *. Hence the caufe 
 
 Why, favour'd by the blue-ey'd fifterhood, 
 
 They footh with fongs my folitary ear. 530 
 
 Nor is Lineia filent — " Long," (he cries, 
 
 '* Too long has Man wag'd facrilegious war 
 
 " With the vext elements, and chief with that, 
 
 " Which elder Thales, and the Bard of Thebes 
 
 ** Held firft of things tcrreftrial ; nor mifdeem'd r 535 
 
 " For. 
 * Vtt.SM, Note XXVI. 
 
( 83 ) 
 44 For, when the Spirit creative deign'd to mov? a 
 44 ffe mov'd upon the waters. O revere 
 44 Our power : for were its vital force withheld, 
 " Where then were Vegetation's vernal bloom, 
 " Where its autumaal Wealth ? but we are kind 540 
 44 As powerful j O let reverence lead to love, 
 44 And both to emulation ! Not a rill, 
 44 That winds its fparkling current o'er the plain, 
 •* Reflecting to the Sun bright recompenfe 
 " For ev'ry beam he lends, but reads thy foul 545 
 
 44 A generous lecture. Not a panfy pale, 
 44 That drinks its daily nurture from that rill, 
 44 Eut breathes in fragrant accents to thy foul, 
 4 So by thy pity chear'<l, the languifh'd head 
 * Of Poverty might fmile.'- Who e'er beheld 550 
 
 44 Our humble train forfake their native vale 
 44 To climb the haughty hill ? Ambition, fpeak ! 
 44 He blufhes, and is mute. When did our ftreams, 
 44 By force unpent, in dull ftagnation fleep ? 
 44 Let Sloth unfold his arms and tell the time. 555 
 
 44 Qr, if the tyranny of Ajt infring'd 
 44 Our rights, when did our patient floods fubmit 
 44 Without recoil I Servility retires, 
 
 L 2 « And 
 
( §4 ) 
 < c And pi inks his gilded chain. O, learn from us, 
 
 «« A- it to thy Nation, Britifh Bard ! 56a 
 
 " Uncurb'd Ambition, unrefifting Sloth, 
 
 " And bafe Dependence are the fiends accurft 
 
 '* That pull down mighty empires. If they fcorn 
 
 <{ The awful tru'h, be thine to hold it dear. 
 
 " So, through the vale of life, thy flowing hours 565 
 
 " Shall glide ferene ; and, like Lineia's rilL 
 
 « Their free, yet not licentious courfe fulfill'd, 
 
 *• Sink in the Ocean of Eternity." 
 
 END of the THIRD BOOK. 
 
 THE 
 
THE 
 
 ENGLISH GARDEN. 
 
 BOOK THE FOURTH. 
 
t 87 ) 
 
 THE 
 
 ENGLISH GARDEN. 
 
 BOOK THE FOURTH. 
 
 NOR yet, divine Simplicity, withdraw 
 That aid aufpicious, which, in Art's domain*, 
 Already has reform'd whate'er prevail'd 
 Of foreign, or of falfe ; has led the curve 
 That Nature loves thro' all her fylvan haunts j 5 
 
 Has ftol'ft the fence unnotic'd that arrefts 
 Her vagrant herds ; giv'n luftre to her lawns, 
 Gloom to her groves, and, in expanfe ferene, 
 Devolv'd that wat'ry mirror at her foot, 
 O'er which fhe loves to bend and view her charms. 10 
 
 And tell me Thou, whoe'er haft new-arrans'd 
 By her chafte rules thy garden, if thy heart 
 Feels not the warm, the felf-dilating glow 
 Of true Benevolence. Thy flocks, thy herds, 
 That browzc luxurious o'er thofe very plots 15 
 
 Which 
 
( 88 ) 
 Which once were barren, blefs thee for the change; 
 The birds of Air (which thy funereal Yews 
 Of fhape uncouth, and leaden Sons of Earth, 
 Antaeus and Enceladus, with clubs 
 Uplifted, long had frighted from the fcene) 26 
 
 Now pleas'd return, they perch on ev'ry fpray, 
 And fwell their little throats, and warble wild 
 Their vernal minftrelfy ; to Heav'n and Thee 
 It is a hymn of thanks : do thou, like Heav'n, 
 With tutelary care reward their fong. 25 
 
 Ere-while the Mufe, induftrious to combine 
 Nature's own charms, with thefe alone adorn'd 
 The Genius of the Scene ; but other gifts 
 She has in ftore, which gladly now fhe brings, 
 And he fhall proudly wear. Know, when fhe broke 30 
 The fpells of Fafhion, from the crumbling wreck 
 Of her enchantments fagely did fhe cull 
 Thofe reliques rich of old Vitruvian (kill, 
 With what the Sculptor's hand in clafiic days 
 Made breathe in Brafs or Marble ; thefe the Hag 35 
 Had purloin'd, and difpos'd in Folly's fane; 
 To him thefe trophies of her victory 
 • She bears ; and where his awful nod ordains 
 
 Confpicuous 
 
( 89 ) 
 Confpicuous means to place. He fhull direct 
 Her dubious judgment, from the various hoard 40 
 
 Of ornamental treafures, how to chufe 
 The fimpleft and the beft ; on thefe his feal 
 Shall (lamp great Nature's image and his own, 
 To charm for unborn ages.*— Fiing the reft 
 Back to the Beldame, bid her whirl them all 45 
 
 In her vain vortex, lift them now to day, 
 Now plunge in night, as, thro' the humid rack 
 Of April clou,d, fwift flits the trembling beam. 
 
 But precepts tire, and this faflidious Age 
 Rejects the drain didactic : Try we then 50 
 
 In livelier Narrative the truths to veil 
 We dare not dictate. Sons of Albion, hear ! 
 The tale I tell is full of ftrange event, 
 And piteous circumftance ; yet deem not ye, 
 if names I feign, that therefore facts are feign'd : 55 
 Nor hence refufe (what mod augments the charm 
 Of ftoried woe) that fond credulity 
 Which binds th' attentive foul in clofer chains. 
 
 At manhood's prime Alcander's duteous tear 
 Fell on his Father's grave. The fair Domain, 60 
 
 M Which 
 
( 90 ) 
 Which then became his ample heritage, 
 That Father had rcform'd ; each line deftroy'd 
 Which Belgic dulnefs plann'd ; and Nature's felf 
 Reftor'd to all the rights fhe wifh'd to claim. 
 
 Crowning a gradual hill his Manfion rofe 65 
 
 In antient Englim grandeur : Turrets, Spires, 
 And Windows, climbing high from bafe to roof 
 In wide and radiant rows, befpoke its birth 
 Coeval with thofe rich cathedral fanes, 
 (Gothk ill-nam'd) where harmony refults 70 
 
 From difunitcd parts; and fhapes minute, 
 At once diftinct and blended, boldly form 
 One vaft majeftic whole. No modern art 
 Had marr'd with mifplac'd fymmetry the Pile. 
 Alcamder held it facred : On a height, 75 
 
 Which weftering to its fite the front furvey'd, 
 He firft his tafte employ'd : for there a line 
 Of thinly fcatter'd Beech too tamely broke 
 The blank Horizon. " Draw we round yon knowl," 
 Alcander cry'd, " in {lately Norman mode, 80 
 
 '* A wall embattled ; and within its guard 
 " Let every flructure needful for a Farm 
 '* Arife in Caitle-femblance \ the huge Barn 
 
 « Shall 
 
( Qi ) 
 " Shall with a mock Portcullis arm the gate, 
 " Where Ceres entering, o'er the Mail-proof floor 85 
 " In golden triumph rides ; fome Tower rotund 
 " Shall to the Pigeons and their callow young 
 " Safe rooft afford ; and ev'ry buttrefs broad, 
 " Whofe proud projection feems a mafs of {lone, 
 " Give fpace to ftall the heifer, and the deed. go 
 
 44 So fhall each part, tho' turn'd to rural ufe, 
 ** Deceive the eye with thofe bold feudal forms 
 " That Fancy loves to gaze on." This atchiev'd 
 Now nearer home he calls returning: Art 
 To hide the ftruclure rude where Winter pounds 95 
 In conic pit his congelations hoar, ' 
 *yhat Summer may his tepid beverage cool 
 With the chill luxury ; his Dairy too 
 There Hands of form unfightly : both to veil, 
 He builds of old disjointed mofs-grown flone 100 
 
 A time-ftruck Abbey * An impending grove 
 Screens it behind with reverential {bade ; 
 While bright in front the ftream reflecting fpread?, 
 Which winds a mimic River o'er his Lawn. 
 The Fane conventual there is dimly feen, 105 
 
 The mitred Window, and the Cloifter pale, 
 With many a mouldering Column j Ivy foon 
 
 M 2 Round 
 
 * Ver. ici, Note XX VII. 
 
( 92 ) 
 Round the rude chinks her net of foliage fprcads ; 
 Its verdant mefhes feem to prop the wall. 
 
 One native Glory, more than all fublime, no. 
 
 Alcander's fcene poffefl: : 'Twas Ocean's felf 
 
 He, boift'rous King, againff, the eaftern cliffs 
 
 Dafh'd his white foajm ; a verdant vale between 
 
 Gave fplendid ingrefs to his world of waves. 
 
 Slaunting this vale the mound of that clear fiream 115 
 
 Lay hid in fhade, which fiowly lav'd his Lawn : 
 
 But there fet free, the rill refum'd its pace, 
 
 And hurried to the Main. The dell it paft 
 
 "Was rocky and retir'd : Here Art with cafe 
 
 Might lead it o'er a Grot, and filter'd there, 120. 
 
 Teach it to fparlde down its craggy fides, 
 
 And fall and tinkle on its pebbled floor. 
 
 Here then that Grot he builds, and conchs with fpars, 
 
 Mcfs petrified with branching corallines 
 
 In mingled mode arranges : All found here J25 
 
 Propriety of place ; what view'd the Main 
 
 Might well the fhelly gifts of Thetis bear. 
 
 Not fo the inland cave : with richer flore 
 
 Than thofe the neighb'ring mines and mountains yield 
 
 To hang its roof, would feem incongruous Pride, 130 
 
 And fright the local Genius from the fcene. * 
 
 * Ver. 1 j 1, Note XXVIIf, One 
 
( 93 ) 
 One vernal morn, as urging here the work 
 Surrounded by his hinds, from mild to cold 
 The Seafon chang'd, from cold to fudden ftorm, 
 From dorm to whirlwind. To the angry main 135 
 Swiftly he turns and fees a laden Ship 
 Difmafted by its rage. " Hie, hie we all," 
 Alcander cry'd, " quick to the neighb'ring beach." 
 They flew ; they came, but only to behold, 
 Tremendous fight ! the VefTel dafh its poop 140 
 
 Amid the boiling breakers. Need I tell 
 What ftrenuous Arts were u*'d, when all were us'd, 
 To fave the finking Crew ? One tender Maid 
 Alone efcap'd, fav'd by Alcander's arm, 
 Who boldly fwam to fnatch her from the plank 145 
 To which me feebly clung ; fwiftly to fhore, 
 And fwiftcr to his home the youth convey'd 
 His clay-cold prize, who at his portal firfl 
 By one deep figh a fign of Life betray'd, 
 
 A Maid Co fav'd, if but by nature blefl jr© 
 
 With common charms, had foon awak'd a flame 
 More ftrong than Pity, in that melting heart 
 Which Pity warm'd before. But fhe was fair 
 As Poets picture Hebe, or the Spring ; 
 (sraceful withal, as if each limb were cafr r r* 
 
 la 
 
( 94 ) 
 In that ideal mould whence Raphael drew 
 His Galatea* : Yes, th' impaffion'd Youth 
 Felt more than pity when he view'd her charms. 
 Yet (lie, (ah, ftrange to tell) tho' much he lov'd, 
 Suppreil as much that fympathetic flame 160 
 
 Which Love like his mould kindle : Did he kneel 
 In rapture at her feet ? me bow'd the head, 
 And coldly bad him rife ; or did he plead, 
 In terms of pureft paflion, for a fmiie ? 
 She gave him but a tear : his manly form, 165 
 
 His virtues, ev'n the courage that prefer/ d 
 Her life, befeem'd no fentiment to wr.ke 
 Warmer than gratitude ; and yet the love 
 Withheld from him me freely gave his fcenes j 
 On all their charms a juft applaufe beflow'd j 170 
 
 And, if file e'er was happy, only then 
 When wand'ring where thofe charms were mod difplay'd. 
 
 As thro 1 a neighb'ring Grove, where antient beech 
 Their awful foliage flung, Alcander led 
 The penfive maid along, " Tell me," file cry 'd, 175 
 " Why, on thefe forefl: features all-intent, 
 " Forbears my fiicnd fome fcene diftincl to oive 
 ts To Flora and her fragrance ? Well I know 
 
 * Ver. 157, Note XXIX. " That 
 
( 95 ) 
 «' That in the general Land (cape's broad exparife 
 " Their little blooms are loft ; but here are glades, 180 
 '•'Circled with (hade, yet pervious to the fun, 
 " Where, if enamell'd with their rainbow-hues, 
 " The eye would catch their iplendor : turn thy Tafte, 
 " Ev'n in this grafly circle where we (land, 
 " To form their plots ; there weave a woodbine Bower, 
 " And call that Bower Nerina's." At the word 186 
 Alcander fmil'd ; his fancy inftant form'd 
 The fragrant fcene fhe wifti'd ; and Love, with Art 
 Uniting, loon produe'd the fuiifh'd whole. 
 
 Down to the South the glade by Nature lean'd ; 
 Art form'd the flope {till fofter, opening there 
 Its foliage, and to each Etefian gale 
 Admittance free difperifing; thickeft (bade 
 Guarded the reft. — His tafte will beft conceive 
 The new arrangement, whofe free footfteps, us'd 195 
 To foreft haunts, have piere'd their opening dells, 
 Where frequent tufts of fweetbriar, box, or thorn, 
 Steal on the green fward, but admit fair fpace 
 For many a moffy maze to wind between. 
 So here did Art arrange her flovv'ry groups 2; 3 
 
 Irregular, yet not in patches quaint *, 
 
 * Ver. 301. Note XXX. But 
 
( 9^ ) 
 ISut interpos'd between the wand'ring 3ine3 
 Of fhaven turf which twifted to the path, 
 Gravel or fand, that in as wild a wave 
 Stole round the verdant limits of the fcene ; 205 
 
 Leading the Eye to many a fculptur'd buft 
 On fhapely pedeftal, of Sage, or Bard, 
 Bright heirs of fame, who living lov'd the haunts 
 So fragrant, fo fequefler'd. Many an Urn 
 There too had place, with votive lay infcrib'd 210 
 
 To Freedom, Friendfhip, Solitude, or Love. 
 
 And now each flow'r that bears tranfplanting change, 
 Or blooms indigenous, adorn'd the fcene : 
 Only Nerina's wifh, her woodbine bower, 
 Remain'd to crown the whole. Here, far beyond 215 
 That humble wifh, her Lover's Genius form'd 
 A glittering Fane, where rare and alien plants 
 Might fafely flourifh * j where the Citron fweet, 
 And fragrant Orange, rich in fruit and flowers, 
 Mi^ht hang their filvcr (tars, their golden globes, 220 
 On the fame odorous ftcm : Yet fcorning there 
 The glafly pcnthoufe of ignoble form, 
 ll\*y}\ on Ionic fnafts he bad it tower 
 A proud Rotunda ; to its fides conjoin'd 
 
 * Ver. a 1 2, Note XXXI. TwO 
 
( 91 ) 
 
 Two broad Piazzas in theatric curve, 225 
 
 Ending in equal Porticos fublime. 
 
 Glafs 100ft the whole, and fidelong to the S)uth 
 
 'Twixt ev'ty fluted Column, lightly rear'd 
 
 Its wall pellucid. All within was day, 
 
 Was genial Summer's day, for recret ftoves 230 
 
 Thro' all the pile folftitial warmth convey'd. 
 
 Thefe led thro' ifles of Fragrance to the Dome, 
 Each way in circling quadrant. That bright fpace 
 Guarded the fpicy tribes from Afric's £hore, 
 Or Ind, or Afaby, Sabsean Plants 235 
 
 Weeping with nard, and balfam. In the midft 
 A Statue flood, the work of Attic Art ; 
 Its thin light drapery, caft in fluid folds, 
 Proclaim'd its antientry; all fave the headj 
 Which ftole (for Love is prone to gentle thefts) 240 
 The features of Nerina 3 yet that head, 
 So perfect in refemblance ; all its air 
 So tenderly impaflion'd ; to the trunk, 
 Which Grecian fkill had form'd, fo aptly join'd, 
 Phidias himfelf might feem to have infpir'd 245 
 
 The chiffel, brib'd to do the am'rous fraud. 
 One graceful hand held forth a ftow'ry wreath, 
 
 N The 
 
t 98 ) 
 
 The other preft her zone ; while round th£ bafe 
 Dolphins, and Triton (hells, and plants marine 
 Proclaim'd, that Venus, rifing from the fea, 250 
 
 Had veil'd in Florals modeft veft her charms. 
 
 Such was the Fane, and fuch the Deity 
 Who feem'd, with fmile aufpicious, to inhale 
 That incenfe which a tributary world 
 From all its regions round her altar breath'd : 255 
 
 And yet, when to the fhrine Alcander led 
 His living Goddefs, only with a figh, 
 And frarting tear, the ftatue and the dome 
 Reluctantly fhe view'd. And " why," fhc cry'd, 
 «' Why would my beft Preferver here erect, 26Q 
 
 M With all the fond idolatry of Love, 
 " A Wretch's image whom his Pride fhould fcorn, 
 " (For fo his Country bids him) ? Drive me hence, 
 " Tranfport'me quick to Gallia's hoftile fhore, 
 «« Hoftile to thee, yet not, alas ! to her, 265 
 
 Ci Who there was meant to fojouru : there, perchance, 
 " My Father, wafted by more profp'rous gales, 
 ** Now mourns his Daughter 10ft j my Brother there 
 iC Perhaps now fooths that venerable age 
 * He fhould not fcoth alone, Vain thought ! perchance 
 
 « Boih 
 
C 99 ) 
 Both perifh'd at Efopus — do not blufh, 271 
 
 It was not thou that lit the ruthlefs flame j 
 ft was not thou, that, like remorfelefs Cain, 
 Thirfted for Brother's blood : thy heart difdains 
 The favage imputation. Reft thee there, 275 
 
 And, tho' thou pitieft, yet forbear to grace, 
 A wretched Alien, and a Rebel deem'd, 
 With honors ill-befeeming her to claim. 
 My wifh, thou know'ft, was humble as my flate; 
 I only bcgg'd a little v/oodbine bower, 280 
 
 Where I might fit and weep, while all around 
 The lilies and the blue bells hung their heads 
 In feeming fympathy." " Does then the fcene 
 Difpleafe ?" the difappointed lover cry'd ; 
 Alas ! too much it pleafes," flgh'd the fair; 285 
 
 Too ftrongly paints the paffion which ftern Fate 
 Forbids me to return j" " Doft thou then love 
 Some happier youth ?" e * No, tell thy generous foul 
 Indeed I do not." More {he would have faid, 
 
 But gufhing grief prevented. From the Fane 290 
 
 Silent he led her ; as from Eden's bower 
 
 The Sire of Men his weeping Partner led, 
 
 Lefs lovely, and lefs innocent than fhe. 
 
 N 2 Yet 
 
( 100 ) 
 Yet flill Alcander hop'd what laft (he figh'd 
 Spoke more than gratitude ; the War might end ; 29$ 
 Her Father might confent ; for that alone 
 Now fcem'd the duteous barrier to his blifs. 
 Already had he fent a faithful friend 
 To learn if Franpe the reverend Exile held : 
 That friend return'd not. Mean-while ev'ry fun 300 
 "Which now (a year elaps'd) diurnal rofe 
 Beheld her ftill more penfive ; inward Pangs, 
 ^rom grief's concealment, hourly feem'd to force 
 Health from her cheek, and Quiet from her foul. 
 Alcander mourn'd the change, yet ftill he hop'd ; 305 
 For Love to Hope his flickering taper lends, 
 When Reafon with his fteady torch retires : 
 Hence did he try by ever-varying arts, 
 And fcenes of novel charm her grief to calm. 
 
 Nor did he not employ the Syren Powers 310 
 
 Of Mufic and of Song; or Painting, thine, 
 Sweet fource of pure delight ! But I record 
 Thofe arts alone, which form my fylvan theme. 
 
 At dated hours, full oft had he obferv'd, 
 She fed with welcome grain the houfehold fowl 315 
 
 Tha* 
 
(. 101 ) 
 
 That trefpaft on his lawn ; this wak'd a wi(h 
 
 To give her feather'd fav'rites fpace of land, 
 
 And lake appropriate : in a neighb'ring copfe 
 
 He plann'd the fcene j for there the cryftal fpring, 
 
 That form'd his river, from a rocky cleft 320 
 
 Firft bubbling broke to day ; and fpreading there 
 
 Slept on its rufhes. " Here my delving hinds," 
 
 He cry'd, " (hall foon the marfhy foil remove, 
 
 ** And fpread, in brief extent, a glittering Lake 
 
 *' Chequer'd with ifles of verdure ; on yon Rock 325 
 
 *' A fculptur'd River-God {hall reft his urn ; 
 
 " And thro' that urn the native fountain flow. 
 
 •* Thy wifh'd-for bower, Nerlna, (hall adorn 
 
 " The fouthern bank ; the downy race, that fwim 
 
 " The lake, or pace the fhore, with livelier charms, 
 
 tl Yet no lefs rural, here will meet thy glance, 331 
 
 *' Than flowers inanimate." Full foon was fcoopt 
 
 The wat'ry bed, and foon, by margin green, 
 
 And rifing banks, inclos'd ; the higheil gave 
 
 Site to a ruftic fabric, (helving deep 335 
 
 Within the thicket, and in front compos'd 
 
 Of three unequal arches, lowly all 
 
 The furer to expel the noontide glare, 
 
 Yet yielding liberal inlet to the fcene; 
 
 Woodbine 
 
( IC2 J 
 
 Woodbine with jafmine carelefsly entwin'd 34.0 
 
 Coaceal'd the needful mafonry, and hung 
 
 In free feftoons, and vefted all the cell. 
 
 H-nce did the lake, the iflands, and the rock, 
 
 A living landfcape fpread ; the feather'd fleet, 
 
 Led by two mantling fwans, at ev'ry creek 34.5 
 
 Now touch'd, and now unmoor'd ; now on full fail ? 
 
 With pennons fpread and oary feet they ply'd 
 
 Their vagrant voyage ; and now, as if becalm'd, 
 
 'Tween fhore and fhore at anchor feem'd to fleep. 
 
 Around thofe fhores the Fowl that fear the ftream 350 
 
 At random rove : hither hot Guinea fends 
 
 J-Ier gadding troop ; here midft his fpeckled Dames 
 
 The pigmy Chanticleer of Bantam winds 
 
 His clarion ; while, fupreme in glittering ftate, 
 
 The Peacock fpreads his rainbow train, with eyes 355 
 
 Of fapphire bright, irradiate each with gold. 
 
 Mean-while from ey'ry fpray the Ringdoves coo, 
 
 The "Linnets warble, captive none *, but lur'd 
 
 By food to haunt the umbrage : all the Glade 
 
 Is Life, is Mufic, Liberty, and Love. 360 
 
 And is there now to Pleafure or to Ufe 
 One fcene devoted in the wide domain 
 
 * Ver. 358, Note XXXII. 1*3 
 
( »03 ) 
 
 Its Mafter has not polifh'd ? Rumour Spreads 
 
 Its praifes far, and many a ftranger flops 
 
 With curious eye to cenfure or admire. 365 
 
 To all his Lawns are pervious ; oft himfelf 
 
 With courteous greeting will the critic hail, 
 
 An<i join him in the circuit. Give we here 
 
 (If Candour will with patient ear attend) 
 
 The focial dialogue Alcander held 370 
 
 With one, a youth of mild yet manly mein, 
 
 Who feem'd to tafte the beauties he furvey'd. 
 
 " Little, I fear me, will a Granger's eye 
 " Find here to praife, where rich Vitruvian Art 
 " Has rear'd no temples, no triumphal arcs ; 375 
 
 *' Where no Palladian bridges fpan the ftream, 
 " But all is homebred Fancy." " For that caufe, 
 " And chiefly that," the polifh'd Youth reply'd, 
 " I view each part with rapture. Ornament, 
 *' When foreign or fantaftic, never charm'd 38© 
 
 " My judgment ; here I tread on Britifh ground \ 
 " With Britifh annals all I view accords. 
 " Some Yorkift, or Lancastrian Baron bold, 
 u To awe his vaiTals, or to item his foes, 
 '* Yon mafiy bulwark built j on yonder pile, 385 
 
 "In 
 
( *04 ) 
 
 " In ruin beauteous, I diftin£tly mark 
 
 <{ The ruthlefs traces of ftern Henry's hand. 
 
 li Yet," cry'd AlcanOer, (interrupting mild 
 The ftranger's fpeech) " if fo yon antient feat, 
 44 Pride of my anceftors, had mock'd repair, 390 
 
 44 And by Proportion's Greek or Roman laws 
 44 That pile had been rebuilt, thou wouldft not then, 
 «* I trutt, have blam'd, if, there on Doric fhafts 
 44 A temple rofe ; If fome tall obelifk 
 44 O'ertopt yon grove, or bold triumphal arch 395 
 
 44 Ufurpt my Cattle's ftation." — 44 Spare me yet 
 44 Yon folemn Ruin," the quick youth return'd, 
 " No mould'ring aqueduct, no yawning crypt 
 64 Sepulchral, will confole me for its fate." 
 
 44 I mean not that," the Matter of the fcene 40® 
 Reply'd i " tho' claffic rules to modern piles 
 <4 Should give the juft arrangement, fhun we here 
 44 Bv thofe to form our Ruins ; much we own 
 44 They pleafe, when, by Pacini's pencil drawn, 
 44 Or darkly grav'd by Piranesi's hand, 405 
 
 44 And fitly might fome Tufcan garden grace ; 
 44 But Tims's rude mace has here all Roman piles 
 
 44 Levcll'd 
 
(.105 ) 
 " Levell'd fo low, that who, on Britifli ground 
 44 Attempts the talk, builds but a fplendid lye 
 44 Which mocks hiftoric credence. Hence the caufe 
 44 Why Saxon piles or Norman here prevail : 411 
 
 44 Form they a rude, 'tis yet an Englifh whole." 
 
 44 And much I praife thy choice," the (Iranger cry'd; 
 *' Such chafte feleclion (names the common mode, 
 44 Which, mingling flructures of far diftant times, 415 
 44 Far diftant regions, here, perchance, ereils 
 44 A fane to Freedom, where her Brutus (lands 
 44 In act to (hike the tyrant ; there a Tent, 
 44 With crefcent crown'd, with fcymitars adorn'd, 
 44 Meet for fome Bajazet ; northward we turn, 420 
 44 And lo ! a pigmy Pyramid pretends 
 44 We tread the realms of Pharaoh ; quickly thence 
 44 Our fouthern (rep prefents us heaps of (lone 
 44 Rang'd in a Druid circle. Thus from a^e 
 44 To age, from clime to clime inceflant borne, 425 
 44 Imagination flounders headlong on, 
 44 Till, like fatigu'd Villario *, foon we find 
 44 We better like a field." 44 Nicely thy hand 
 44 The childifti landfcape touches," cries his hofr, 
 
 O « For 
 
 * Vcr. 4*7, Note XXX Hi, 
 
( ic6 ) 
 " For Fafbion ever is a wayward child ; 430 
 
 " Yet fure we might forgive Her faults like thefe, 
 tc If but in feparate or in fingle fcenes 
 " She thus with Fancy wanton'd : Should I lead 
 " Thy ftep, my Friend, (for our accordant taftes 
 " Prompt me to give thee that familiar name) 435 
 
 *' Behind this fcreen of Elm, thou there might'ft find 
 " I too had idly play'd the truant's part, 
 " And broke the bounds of judgment." M Lead me there/' 
 Brifldy the Youth return'd, " for having prov'd 
 " Thy Epic Genius here, why not perufe 440 
 
 " Thy lighter Ode or Eclogue?" Smiling thence 
 Alcander led him to the Woodbine bower . 
 Which laft our Song defcrib'd, who feated there, 
 In filent tranfport view'd the lively fcene. 
 
 " I fee," his hoft refum'd, " my fportive art 445 
 *' Finds pardon here ; not ev'n yon claflic form, 
 " Pouring his liquid treafures from his vafe, 
 " Tho' foreign from the foil, provokes thy frown. * 
 " Try we thy candor farther : higher art, 
 " And more luxurious, haply too more vain, 450 
 
 <c Adorns yon fouthern coppice." On they paft 
 Thro' a wild thicket, till the perfum'd air 
 
 * Ver. 448, Note XXXIV. Gave 
 
( 107 ) 
 Gave to another fenfe its prelude rich 
 On what the eye fhould feaft. But now the grove 
 Expands ; and now the Rofe, the garden's Queen, 455 
 Amidft her blooming fubjects' humbler charms, 
 On ev'ry plot her crimfon pomp difplays. 
 " Oh Paradife !" the ent'ring youth exclaim'd, 
 ** Groves whofe rich trees weep odorous gums and balm, 
 " Others whofe fruit, burnifh'd with golden rind, 460 
 *' Hang amiable, Hefperian fables true, 
 * c If true, here only*." Thus, in Milton's phrafe 
 Sublime, the youth his admiration pour'd, 
 While puffing to the dome; his next fhort ftep 
 Unveil'd the central ftatue : ct Heav'ns ! juft Heav'ns," 
 He cry'd, " 'tis my Nerina." " Thine, mad Youth ? 
 " Forego the word," Alcander faid, and paus'd ; 
 His utterance fail'd j a thoufand cluft'ring thoughts, 
 And all of blacked omen to his peace, 
 Recoil'd upon his brain, deaden'd all fenfe, 4-0 
 
 And at the ftatue's bafe him headlong caft, 
 A lifelefs load of being.— Ye, whofe hearts 
 Are ready at Humanity's loft call 
 To drop the tear, I charge you weep not yet, 
 But fearfully fufpend the burfting woe : 475 
 
 O 2 Nerin -\ 
 
 * Ver. 46a, Note XXXV. 
 
( ioS ) 
 Nerina's felf appears ; the further ifle 
 She, fate-directed, treads. Does fhe too faint ? 
 Would Heav'n fhe could ! it were a happy fwoon 
 Might foften her fixt form, more rigid now 
 Than is her marble femblance. One ftifr" hand 480 
 Lies leaden on her bread ; the other rais'd 
 To heav'n, and half-way clench'd ; ftedfaft her eyes, 
 Yet viewlefs ; and her lip?, which op'd to fhriek, 
 Can neither fhriek nor clofe. So might fhe ftand 
 For ever : He, whofc fight caus'd the dread change, 485 
 Tho' now he clafps her in his anxious arm, 
 Fails to unbend one finew of her frame ; 
 ' Tib ice ; 'tis fteel. But fee, Alcander wakes ; 
 And waking, as by magic fympathy, 
 Nerina whifpers, " All is well, my friend ; 450 
 
 " 'Twas but a vifion -, I may yet revive 
 
 " But ftill his arm fupports me ; aid him, friend, 
 *'■ And bear me fwiftly to my woodbine bower ; 
 *' For there indeed I wifh to breathe my laft." 
 
 So faying, her cold cheek, and parched brow, 495 
 Turr/d to a livid palcnefs ; her dim eyes 
 Sunk in their fockets ; fharp contraction preft 
 Her temples, ears, and noftrils : figns well known 
 
 To 
 
( 109 ) 
 To thofe that tend the dying *. Both the youths 
 Perceiv'd the change; and had ftern Death himfelf 500 
 Wav'd his black banner vifual o'er their heads, 
 It could not more appall. With trembling flep, 
 And fileiit, both convey'd her to the bower. 
 
 Her languid limbs there decently compos'd, 
 
 She thus her fpeech refum'd : " Attend my words 505 
 
 { Brave Cleon ! dear Alcander ! generous Pair: 
 
 ' For both have tender intereft in this heart 
 
 ' Which foon fha!l beat no more. That I am thine 
 
 : By a dear Father's juft commands I own, 
 
 ' Much-honour'J Cleon ! take the hand he gave, 51Q 
 
 ' And with it, Oh, if I could give my heart, 
 
 ' Thou wert its worthy owner. All I can, 
 
 ' (And that preferv'd with charted fealty) 
 
 ' Duteous I give thee, Cleon it is thine ; 
 
 ' Not ev'n this dear preferver, e'er could gain 515 
 
 1 More from my foul than Friendfhip — that* be his j 
 
 ' Yet let me own, what, dying, fooths the pang, 
 
 ' That, had thyfelf and duty ne'er been known, 
 
 ' He muft have had my love." She paus'd ; and dropt 
 
 A filcnt tear ; then prcft the ftranger's hand j 520 
 
 Then, 
 * ycr, 499, Note XXXVI. 
 

 ( "0 ) 
 Then bow'd her head upon Alcander's breaft, 
 And " blefs them both, kind Heav'n !" fhepiay'd and died. 
 
 " And bleft art thou," cry'd Cleon, (in a voice 
 Struggling with grief for utterance) bleft to die 
 " Ere thou hadft qi ^iou'J me, and I perforce 525 
 " Had told a tale which muft ha\ (i nt thy foul 
 " In horror from thy bofom. Now it leaves 
 " A fmile of peace upon thofe pallid lips, 
 « That fpeaks its parting happy. Go fair faint ! 
 4t Go to thy paim-crown'd father ! thron'd in biifs, 70 
 " And feated by his fide, thou wile not p 
 w Deplore tfv favage ftroke that feal'd his doom j 
 " Go hymn the Fount of Mercy, who, from ill 
 *' Educing good, makes ev'n a death like his, 
 w A life furcharg'd with tender woes like thine, 535 
 " The road to Joys eternal. Maid, farewell ! 
 " I leave the cafket that thy virtues held 
 tc To Him whole breaft fuftains it ; more belov'd, 
 " Perhaps more worthy, yet not loving more 
 " Than did thy wretched Cleon." At the word 540 
 He bath'd in tears the hand {he dying gave, 
 Return'd it to her fide, and hafly rofe. 
 Alcander, (tarting from his trance of grief, 
 
 Cry'd 
 
( III ) 
 
 Cry'd " Stay, I charge thee flay j" « and (hall he day," 
 Cleon rcply'd, " whofe prefencc ftabb'd thy peace ? 
 " Hear this before we part : That breathlefs Maid 546 
 " Was daughter to a venerable Sage, 
 
 to to ' 
 
 " Whom Bofton, when with peace and fafety blefr, 
 
 " In rapture heard pour from his hallow'd tongue 
 
 " Religion's pureft dictates. 'Twas my chance, 550 
 
 " In early period of our civil broils, 
 
 " To fave his precious life : And hence the Sire 
 
 " Did to my love his Daughter's charms confign j 
 
 " But, till the war mould ceafe, if ever ceafe, 
 
 <c Deferr'd our nuptials. Whither fhe was fent 555 
 
 " In fearch of fafety, well, I trufr, thou know'fr. ; 
 
 " He meant to follow j but thofe ruthlefs flames, 
 
 *' That fpar'd nor friend nor foe, nor fex nor age, 
 
 " Involv'd the village, where on fickly couch 
 
 " He lay confin'd, and whither he had fled 560 
 
 " Awhile to fojourn. There (I fee thee fhrink) 
 
 " Was he that gave Nerina being burnt ! 
 
 *' Burnt by thy Countrymen ! to Afhes burnt ! 
 
 " Fraternal hands and chriftian lit the flame. — ■ 
 
 " Oh thou had caufe to ihudder. I meanwhile 565 
 
 " With his brave fon a diftant warfare wag'd j 
 
 ** And him, now I have found the prize I fought, 
 
 « And 
 
( "2 ) 
 
 " And finding loft, I hafl.cn to rejoin ; 
 
 <{ Vengeance and glory call me." At the word, 
 
 Not fiercer does the Tigrefs quit her cave 570 
 
 To feize the hinds that robb'd her of her young, 
 
 Than he the bower. " Stay, I conjure thee, flay," 
 
 Alcander cry'd, but ere the word was fpoke 
 
 Cleon was feen no more. " Then be it {o 9 " 
 
 The youth continu'd, ctafping to his heart 575 
 
 The beauteous corfe, and fmiling as he fpoke, 
 
 (Yet fuch a fmile as far cut-forrows tears) 
 
 " Now thou art mine entirely — Now no more 
 
 " Shall duty dare diiturb us — Love alone— 
 
 " But hark ! he comes again — Away vain fear I 580 
 
 " 'Twas but the fluttering of thy feather'd flock. 
 
 " True to their cuftom'd hour, behold they troop 
 
 " From ifland, grove, and lake. Arife my Love, 
 
 « Extend thy hand — I lift it, but it falls. 
 
 " Hence then, fond fools, and pine ! Nerina's hand 
 
 " Has loft the power to feed you. Hence and die." 586 
 
 Thus plaining, to his lips the icy palm 
 He lifted, and with ardent paflion kift ; 
 Then cry'd in agony, " on this dear hand, 
 <■<■ Once tremblingly alive to Love's foft touch, 5^0 
 
 "I 
 
( H3 ) 
 
 " I hop'd to feal my faith :" This thought awak'd 
 Another fad foliloquy, which they, 
 Whoe'er have lov'd, will from their hearts fupply, 
 And they who have not will but hear and fmile. 
 
 And let them fmile, but let the fcorners learn 595 
 There is a folemn luxury in grief 
 Which they mail never tafte ; well known to thofe, 
 And only thofe, in Solitude's deep gloom 
 Who heave the figh fincerely : Fancy there 
 Waits the fit moment ; and, when Time has calm'd 
 The firft o'erwhelming tempeft of their woe, 6oj 
 
 Piteous (he fteals upon the mourner's breaft 
 Her precious balm to fhed : Oh, it has power, 
 Has magic power to foften and to footh, 
 Thus duly minifter'd. Alcander felt 605 
 
 The charm, yet not till many a ling'ring moon 
 Had hung upon her zenith o'er his couch, 
 And heard his midnight wailings. Does he ftray 
 But near the fated temple, or the bower ? 
 He feels a chilly monitor within, 610 
 
 Who bids him paufe. Does he at diftance view 
 His grot ? 'tis darken'd with Nerina's ftorm, 
 |£v'n at the blaze of noon. Yet there are walks 
 
 P The 
 
( "4 ) 
 The loft one never trod ; and there are feats 
 Where he was never happy by her fide, 615 
 
 And thefe he ftill can figh in. Here at length, 
 As if by chance, kind Fancy brought her aid, 
 When wand'ring thro' a grove of fable yew, 
 Rais'd by his anceftors : their Sabbath-path 
 Led thro' its gloom, what time too dark a ftole 620 
 Was o'er Religion's decent features drawn 
 By Puritanic zeal. Long had their boughs 
 Forgot the fkeers ; the fpire, the holy ground 
 They banim'd by their umbrage. " What if here," 
 Cry'd the fweet Soother, in a whifper foft, 625 
 
 " Some open fpace were form'd, where other fliades, 
 " Yet all of folemn fort, Cyprefs and Bay 
 " Funereal, penfive Birch its languid arms 
 «' That droops, with waving Willows deem'd to weep, 
 " And fhiv'ring Afpens mixt their varied green ; 630 
 " What if yon trunk, fhorn of its murky creft, 
 " Reveal'd the facred Fane ?" Alcander heard 
 The Charmer ; ev'ry accent feem'd his own, 
 So much they touch'd his heart's fad unifon. 
 " Yes, yes," he cry'd, " Why not behold it all ? 635 
 < c That bough remov'd fhews me the very vault 
 S Where my Nerina flceps, and where, whenHeav'n 
 
 " In 
 
( us ) 
 
 " In pity to my plaint the mandate feals, 
 <c My duft with her's fhall mingle." Now his hinds, 
 Call'd to the tafk, their willing axes wield ; 640 
 
 Joyful to fee, as witlefs of the caufe, 
 Their much-lov'd Lord his fylvan arts refume. 
 And next, within the centre of the gloom, 
 A fhed of twifting roots and living mofs, 
 With ruihes thatch'd, with wattled oziers lin'd, 645 
 He bids them raife * : it feem'd a Hermit's cell ; 
 Yet void of hour-glafs, fcull, and maple difli, 
 Its mimic garniture : Alcander's tafte 
 Difdains to trick with emblematic toys 
 The place where He and Melancholy mean 650 
 
 To fix Nerina's buft, her genuine buft, 
 The model of the marble. There he hides, 
 Clofe as a Mifer's gold, the fculptur'd clay ; 
 And but at early morn and lateft eve 
 Unlocks the fimple fhrine, and heaves a figh j 655 
 
 Then does he turn, and thro' the glimm'ring glade 
 Caft a long glance upon her houfe of death ; 
 Then views the buft again, and drops a tear. 
 Is this idolatry, ye fage ones fay ? ■ 
 Or, if ye doubt, go. view the num'rous train 660 
 
 P 2 Of 
 
 * Ver. 646, Note XXXVII, 
 
( "6 ) 
 
 Of poor and fatherlefs his care confoles j 
 The fight will tell thee, he that dries their tears 
 Has unfeen angels hov'ring o'er his head, 
 Who leave their heav'n to fee him fhed his own. 
 
 Here clofe we, fweet Simplicity ! the tale, 665 
 And with it let us yield to youthful bards 
 That Dorian reed we but awak'd to voice 
 When Fancy prompted, and when Leifure fmiFd ; 
 Hopelefs of general praife, and well repaid, 
 If they of claflic ear, unpall'd by rhyme, 670 
 
 Whom changeful paufe can pleafe, and numbers free, 
 Accept our fong with candour. They perchance. 
 Led by the Mufe to folitude and {hade, 
 May turn that Art we fing to foothing ufe, 
 At this ill-omen'tl hour, when Rapine rides 675 
 
 In titled triumph ; when Corruption waves 
 Her banners broadly in the face of day, 
 And {hews th' indignant world the hoft of flaves 
 She turns from Honour's ftandard. Patient there, 
 Yet not defponding, fliall the fons of Peace 680 
 
 Await the day, when, fmarting with his wrongs, 
 Old England's Genius wakes ; when with him wakes 
 That plain Integrity, Contempt of gold, 
 
 Difdain 
 
( H7 ) 
 
 Difdain of flav'ry, liberal Awe of rule 
 
 Which fixt the rights of People, Peer?, and Prince, 
 
 And on them founded the majeftic pile 686 
 
 Of British Freedom j bad fair Albion rife 
 
 The fcourge of tyrants ; fovereign of the feas j 
 
 And arbitrefs of empires. Oh return, 
 
 Ye long-lofi: train of Virtues ! fwift return 690 
 
 To fave ('tis Albion prompts your Poet's prayer) 
 
 Her Throne, her Altars, and her laureat Bowers. 
 
 
 THE END. 
 
COMMENTARY 
 
 AND 
 
 NOTES. 
 
COMMENTARY 
 
 O N T H E 
 
 FIRST BOOK. 
 
 GARDENING imparts to rural fcenery what 
 a noble and graceful deportment confers upon 
 the human Frame : It is not an imitative Art, it is 
 more, it is an endeavour to beftow on each individual 
 Reality, thofe beauties which judicious imitation would 
 felec-t from many, and combine in one fictitious Re- 
 prefentation. That the Son of Achilles was as muGh 
 inferior in perfon to his Father, as the moil per feci; 
 human forms are to the fineft Statues, is the declara- 
 tion of the fkilful Philoftratus ; and amounts to a full 
 acknowledgment of the' inferiority of individual Na- 
 ture to fele&ive Art. If, therefore, by any means the 
 original can be brought under the obedience of thofe 
 Laws, by which {he is imitated to advantage, an Art 
 is then devifed as much fuperior to thofe which merely 
 deal in imitation, as motion and reality are fuperior to 
 fiction and inanimate reft : It is only in right of their 
 conftitution and laws that the imitative arts are inti- 
 tied to any preference ; but thefe are now transferred 
 and fet over a more noble dominion. (A) 
 
 a To 
 
( 122 ) 
 To eftablifh their empire, and pronounce their de- 
 crees in the Province of Lancfcape, is the purpofe of 
 the foregoing Poem ; to mark the connexion, to point 
 out the principles, and fometimes to extend the appli- 
 cation of the precepts delivered by the Poet, is the 
 purpofe of this Commentary: it was written originally 
 in the margin of the Poem, and has been fo fortunate 
 as not only to receive the approbation, but actually 
 now to appear before the world, under the fanclion 
 of its Author. Thus honoured, it is little folicitous 
 concerning the reception it may there meet with : For 
 fhould it even come fliort of the favourable expecta- 
 tions he has been pleafed to entertain, and fail to 
 promote the delightful Art it is defigned to ferve, 
 one private End, at leaft, muft ftill be anfwered, and 
 my beft Pride will receive its ample fatisfadtion from 
 feeing my name thus publickly connected with that 
 of Mr. Mafon. 
 
 From what is here faid, it is obvious that the poe- 
 tical merits of the Englifh Georgic are not under my 
 confideration ; it will be inferred, perhaps, that I am 
 % precluded from giving an opinion on that head j I 
 am fo : Yet why have I ftudioufly confidered and noted 
 the Poem ? The necefTary anfwer to this queftion will 
 
 give 
 
( 1^3 ) 
 give rny judgment; in terms very general, I grant ; 
 but thus alone, by leaving it for others to draw the 
 inference, I am enabled to evade the prohibition I am 
 under. 
 
 I confefs that the fubjecT. alfo, exclufive of the 
 manner in which it has been treated, has charms for 
 me fufficient to engage my attention : If Reafon has 
 her Sports, they are worthy the purfuit of Reafon ; 
 and I am far from concurring with the mathematical 
 Reader of Virgil, who, having perufed the /Eneid, 
 laid down the book, and then contemptuoufiy pro- 
 nounced that it might, perhaps, be very good ; but for 
 his part he could not fee the ufe of it, becaufe, for- 
 footh, it proved nothing, 
 
 In the clafs with this fentence we muft alfo rank 
 the furly and fullen fpeculation which would infinuate 
 refleclions on an Art that fuccefsfully undertakes to 
 embelliPn and render Nature univerfally lovely. To 
 qxtinguifh the fip.eft Faculty of the human Mind, or 
 pervert the natural Tafte for the Pleafures thence de- 
 rived, will not, I truft, however arrogantly claimed, 
 be generally confidered as the Bufinefs of Reafon ; 
 and therefore we are conftrained to account for the 
 lavage and cynical cenfures which would deprive us 
 Q 2 Of 
 
( 124 ) 
 of the delights of Poetry and Gardening, by referring 
 them to an abfolute ignorance of the refpectivc Sub- 
 jects, and a total defect of the Imagination. 
 
 But it is fo far from being the true Bufinefs of 
 Reafon to degrade, that to cultivate and enlarge the 
 Imagination is, perchance, the happiefl fruit of her 
 genuine refearches. It is by means of this fenfe of the 
 intellect that our convictions, in a thoufand inftances, 
 become our pleafures ; and by facilitating the compre- 
 henfion of remote objects it is that Reafon renders 
 them the objects of this Faculty;. we are thus rendered 
 lenfible of the Beauty of Holinefs, the Beauty of Vir- 
 tue, the Beauty of Syftem, and even of the Beauty of 
 Theorem ; and fhall an eafier acceinbility derogate 
 from our Senfe of the Beauty of Nature ? When 
 Rtafon is not clifgraced in thus referring her iiTues to 
 the Imagination, I can fee no juft caufe why our edu- 
 cated fenfe of Beautv fhould be fullenly refufed the 
 full enjoyment of thofe objects which, by the bene- 
 volent Author of Nature, were originally adapted to 
 'v:r immediate pofTeffion, 
 
 It is not however without fome difcriminating 
 powers of the mind that the Beauties of Nature are 
 even difcernedj the Imagination mull be correct and 
 
 pifq 
 
( 125 ) 
 
 pure to feleir. with judgment the fcenes that are moil 
 worthy of contemplation. And if to enjoy require an 
 act of the cultivated undcrftanding, it will not be de- 
 nied that to open the fources of enjoyment, and to 
 defign and execute, fo as to give pleafure to the tafte 
 of an improved intellect, demands the exertion of 
 much greater powers of the mind. What, for ex- 
 ample, can be accomplifhed without a critical know- 
 lege of the rules of compofition, and a vigorous fancy 
 to forecaft, in each particular inftance, the future 
 effects of their judicious application? Can a ready 
 obfervation to detect a latent grace, and to difcern 
 the advantages it is capable of receiving from art, be 
 difpenfed with ? and can the ignorance of any me- 
 chanical fcience be fuppofed in the genuine Gardener, 
 whofe occupation is a perpetual difplay of even con- 
 fummatefkiil in the comprehenfive theories of Painting 
 and Architecture ? But, referring my reader to the 
 Author's motto, let me here ceafe farther to apologize 
 for the liberality of an Art which Ke, who of all man- 
 kind beft underflood the true bufinefs of Reafon, has 
 not difdained to confider as " the perfection of civi- 
 lity," or to rank as " the pureft of human pleafures." 
 
 The Plan of the English Garden is made to 
 corr°fpor.d with its fubjecx, which is Tingle, and in 
 
 which 
 
( 126 ) 
 
 which the part's, however numerous, are evidently the 
 parts of one uniform whole. The practical precepts, 
 delivered in the three latter Books of the Poem in 
 like manner, are but the amplifications of one fun- 
 damental and univerfally pervading principle, to the 
 doctrine and eftabliihment of which, as a common 
 bafis, the commencing book has been accordingly 
 aligned by the Poet. 
 
 The Poem begins with an invocation to SIMPLI- 
 V*v>j city, the inseparable attendant upon genuine Beauty 
 1 and Grace •, and this with much judgment, becaute 
 the interference of Simplicity is neceffary to control the 
 natural tendency of Art, which is ever more apt to 
 overcharge her work, than fall fhort of the golden, 
 mean, which, is the perfection cf Nature, and of every 
 artifice to imitate or adorn her. A defective Tafte, like 
 a phlegmatic difpofition, requires provocatives to excite 
 an intereft : Where the Wit of Terence or Addifon 
 would fail to obtain a fmile, the boifterous and ribbald 
 Jeft will be attended by acclamations of joy ; and ac- 
 tual afflictions are required to. extort a tear from the. 
 eye that can view the fictitious miferies of the Stags 
 without emotion. In like manner it is that gaudy 
 Jiues, violent contrafts, and a furface rough with 
 fculpture and fluttering projections, invite the admire 
 
 tioa 
 
( 127 ) 
 
 tion of fuch as are blind to the Harmony of colouring, 
 the tender varieties of light and fhadow, the graces 
 of well-poifed difpofition, and the majeftic dignity of 
 juft proportion: And from the fame principle, it is 
 probable, that the formal magnificence of our antient 
 gardens would, on a comparifon, find a more general 
 fufrrage than the delicious domeftic fcenes which are 
 peculiar to our day : for the fumptuous Art, which 
 oblilerates what it mould only adorn, and thus obtrudes 
 itfelf alone upon the eye, folicits the vulgar, and will 
 thence obtain a preference to that which, modeftly 
 miniftring to Nature, fets forward only her charms and 
 withdraws itfelf from obfervation. To correct and 
 ftrengthen the judgment, and confequently to reform 
 this vicious tafte, is the great purpofe of the Poet ; and 
 while he is about to teach, he feeks to place the Con- 
 duel of his Poem under the fame juft reftrictions that 
 he prefcribes to the kindred Art which forms its fub- 
 jedt. — That fweet Simplicity which mould thus prefide 
 in every art, is excellently defcribed by Quintilian : 
 " Quendam purum, qualis etiam in feminis amatur, 
 " ornatum habet ; & funt quaedam velut e tenui dili- 
 " gentia circa proprietatem fignificationemque mun- 
 «' ditias. Alia copia locuples, alia floribus laeta ; vi- 
 " rium non unum genus, nam quicquid in fuo genere 
 " fatis effectum eft valet." Injlltut. lib. viji, 
 
 The 
 
zS 
 
 C 128 ) 
 
 Vr The afliftance of the two fitter mufes of Poetry and 
 Painting, is lilcewife invoked to promote a kindred 
 Art, an Art in which the attributes of both are enga- 
 ged : For thatTafte which is required either to enjoy, 
 to defign, or critically to inftruct in the means to de- 
 Hgn the beauties of fcenery, muft refult from an union 
 of the Poet's delicate feelings, and the Painter's prac- 
 ticed judgment to felect the objects by which they 
 are beft excited. Ever fince the days of Simonides, 
 who declared Painting to be filent Poetry, and Poetry 
 to be fpeaking Picture, Critics of all ranks and fizes 
 have touched, and fome have even extenfively expa- 
 tiated upon the affinity of thefe two Arts. To prove 
 that Gardening is of their fifterhood, it might be 
 enough to fay, that {he makes her addrefs to the fame 
 mental fource of Pleafure, and fo rank the whole 
 doctrine under the equally acknowledged affertion of 
 Antiquity, that all the Arts are of one family. Gar- 
 dening, I grant, has heretofore in a manner withdrawn 
 herfelf from her relations ; for while Nature gave 
 laws to thefe, and feemed to prefide over their friendly 
 fociety, fhe alone refufed to comply with the dictates 
 which, if poflible, more nearly concerned her than 
 the reft. A vigorous imagination, with a correct 
 judgment, were the qualifications which all her fitters 
 fought for in their votaries ; while fhe, with a way- 
 ward 
 
 . 
 
ISV -i 
 
 { 129 ) 
 
 ward obftinacy, addicted herfelf to the taftelefs Pa 
 minions of Fortune, and only required that her woers ,3 
 fhould be endowed with Wealth. What wonder then 
 that fhe has been put down from her (ration, and that 
 her claim to be numbered among the liberal Arts has 
 not been univerfally acknowledged ? But having now 
 become fenfible of her own depravity, reformed her 
 errors, and placed herfelf under the direction of Na- 
 ture ; having lent her whole attention to the laws by 
 which the family is governed ; and taken the rules of 
 her prefent and future conduct from them ; her pre- 
 tenfions are.no longer problematical: fhe afTumes a 
 dignity that renders her worthy of the rank to which 
 fhe is reftored ; has become a favourite in the Train 
 of Nature, the common Miftrefs of them all ; and 
 Painting, who has chiefly taken her under tuition, like 
 the Preceptor of Scipio, declares, that while fhe im- 
 parts, fhe derives inftruclion from her ready Pupil. 
 
 Having thus, in the poetical mode of invocation, 
 generally intimated the qualifications that are equally 
 requifite in the ' Pupil of his Sortg' as in the precepts 
 which teach his Art, after a few epifodical lines, upon 
 which, for the reafon already affigned, I feel myfclf 
 with much regret precluded from expatiating, the 
 Poet, addreffing himfelf to fuch of the Youth of 
 England, as are enabled by the means of a fufEcient 
 R fortune 
 
( 130 ) 
 
 V<r. fortune and an unvitiated Tafle of Beauty to carry 
 his leffons into execution, Aides into his fubject 
 with an afiurance to fo many of them as are in purfuit 
 of claffical knowledge, that the Art of Gardening was 
 
 61 unknown to antient Rome j and to fuch as vifit the 
 Continent, that it is not even now to be learned in 
 
 63 the detail by travel into modern Italy ; but that fo- 
 reign countries, and particularly that of Italy will, 
 notwithstanding, contribute natural beauties adapted 
 to improve or form the tafte, and afford fcenes well 
 
 71 worthy of our imitation. Thefe, however, we are 
 inftrudted, not indifcriminately, or too ambitioufly to 
 
 g, aim at adopting, for this important reafon, (which 
 is the firft general precept laid down) that every effort 
 to improve the fcenery muft correfpond with the 
 original nature of the place, or elfe molt certainly 
 prove abortive. (B) 
 
 g g But although objects which are inapplicable be 
 thus profcribed, it does not therefore follow that we 
 fhould defpair of giving beauty to any fpot however 
 feemingly defective; for the feeds of grace are univer- 
 fally diffeminated ; and though we cannot any where 
 raife fuch as are foreign from the foil, and as it were 
 ao* exotic; yet fuch as are indigenous will rife, and attain 
 107 to their full maturity and perfection under the culti- 
 vation 
 
( Hi ') 
 ▼ation of Induftrv and Tafte. The very Heath, for Ver, 
 example, of all things apparently the leaft fufceptible 
 of a pidturefque appearance, may be fertilized, and 
 receive a chearful afpedt from the hand of toil ; 
 and tafte fucceeding to this may carry the work fo „, 
 much farther as to beftow upon it even beauty and 
 grace: but as the foil muft be reclaimed, in order to 
 its affording the materials of verdure and foliage in 
 Tafte, it is evident here that labour muft go before ; 
 while in the improvement of the dank Vale, which ,14 
 affords another iriftanee of their united powers, it is 
 equally evident that Tafte muft take the lead, and pre- 
 cede, or at leaft conduct, the works of labour; for if u* 
 not, the waters may be drawn off by the ftraighteft, 
 as being thefliorteft lines; and thefe again be fo placed 
 as to form angular interferons : Whereas Tafte, be- 
 ing at once poffefted of her materials here, will pre- 
 fcribe that bed or channel in which they may fpread 
 or run in the moft beautiful manner ; and hence it 
 is that Labour muft, in this and fimilai cafes, be the 
 attendant inftead of the harbinger of Tafte. 
 
 And here the vallev thus imDrcved is defcribed : the 
 
 beauties which Nature has contributed, and the cor- 
 
 refponding charms which Fancy has beftowed, are 
 
 peculiarized : Time is fuppofed to have imparted ma- 
 
 R 2 turity 
 
( i3* ) 
 
 Per. turity to its groves, and ripened all its beauties to the 
 preciie idea of the Planter, and it is accordingly found 
 
 j 5 o altogether fuited to contemplation, and the pleaiures 
 
 iS3 of feclufion and learned retirement: The cave, the 
 
 160 rill, and the fhadowy glade, adapt it to the Poet; its 
 copious vegetation, and numerous infect inhabitants 
 
 s g 4 to the Naturalift •, while, from the general d.ifpofition 
 of its wood and water, and the accidents of light, 
 which its various parts are formed to catch, the Painter 
 may derive improvement to his Art. But it is not for 
 the mere pleafure of dwelling on the lovely fcene that 
 the Poet has thus minutely defcribed its parts ; he had 
 another view, and has accordingly made his defcrip- 
 
 ,, 2 tion the conveyance of an important cenfure on that 
 indifcriminating zeal for profpeel: which requires and 
 is only delighted with the extent of unfele&ed objects; 
 
 J7 j and alfo an exemplification of this dodlrine, that a 
 fingle fcene, though not comprehending diftances, 
 may yet, by a judicious difpofition of light and fhadow,, 
 be put into polTeflion of fufficient variety to render a 
 landfcape, thus formed merely of a foreground, com- 
 plete and per feci: within itfelf. 
 
 If then it appears that Fancy be of fuch power as 
 thus to give charms to relu&ant Nature, it follows 
 that vve fhould exert ourfelves to improve this faculty 5 
 
 and 
 
( *33 ) 
 
 and to this end it is laid down as a maxim, that we &?• 
 fhould confult the laws by which Painting is governed, 
 and apply them to the filler Art of Gardening. But 
 of theie, the firft is to make a happy felection of ob- 
 jects for the pencil ; and therefore, as greatneb of parts, 
 a receding gradation 0; hues and limiting outlines, 
 and three dittances, marked each with their refpective 
 characters, and bearing to each other a due propor- 
 tion, are the objects of the Painter's choice, {o, if ,„ 
 they can be attained, they are recommended to the 
 Gardener as the moft defirable fcenery for the exercife 
 of his imagination and his art. 
 
 But of thefe three diftances, fuppofmg them pof- 1^ 
 fefTed, the foreground is that part which is ufually 
 moft at the difpofal of a proprietor, and is confequently 
 of the higheft importance. Wherever a Man Hands 
 the contiguous objects immediately before him form a 
 foreground to the fcene he is locking at ; and by the 
 foreground how much the general profpect is afre&ed, 
 there are few who delight in landfcape that have not 
 perceived. The general harmony of a fcene refults 
 from a due proportion of its parts ; but the greater 
 diftances are feldom within the power of art : How 
 then fhall arc, thus limited in the extent of her do- 
 minion, attempt to harmonize the whole fcene ? To 
 
 this 
 
( 134 ) 
 
 ^j this I anfwer, by a judicious adaption and difpofitiorr 
 of the objects through which the eve beholds it. A 
 path is a feries of foregrounds j and to adapt each part 
 of this to the various combinations of the diftant ob- 
 jects which always refult from change of place or 
 afpedt, is the proper bufinefs of art. The effect of 
 afpect on a fcene, and the pleafure arifing from an 
 agreeable feries of foregrounds, muft be ftrongly felt 
 by fuch as fail upon a fine river between beautiful 
 banks : by this means we always, as it were, carry 
 \yater with us, and render it a permanent ingredient 
 in a continually changing landfeap.e. The means then 
 prefcribed for obtaining a fimilar permanency in a 
 beautiful foreground are the direction of the path from 
 
 20 3 which the general fcenery is to be viewed ; — a felec- 
 tion of well-adapted greens which (hall contraft or 
 
 *°5 mix their colouring into it ; — fuch interruptions as 
 may frequently give the charm of renewal to what we 
 
 207 had been for a time deprived of ;— the abfolutely un- 
 intervening foliage of {hrubbery beneath the eye ; — 
 
 acg and the fhade of foreft foliage above it ; in which, 
 latter cafe the beft portions of the diftant fcene may 
 be fele&ed, and beheld from between the ftems of the, 
 trees, which mould be fo fituated as fometimes by, 
 
 an affording lateral limits to reduce the view even to the 
 ftri&eft rules of compofition j — and thus from the va- 
 rieties 
 
( 135 ) 
 rieties of the foreground the general fcene is alfo per- Ve*, 
 petually varied. ww 
 
 But as there are many who are not fenfible of the 216 
 beauty of this laft feature in a foreground, and hence 
 might too haftily think of removing every foreft-tree 
 in front, as only an interruption to the fcene, a cau- 
 tion is fuo-gefted againft fuch a practice : to prove its 
 neceffity, the picturefque principle is reforted to, and 
 exemplified in the wooded foregrounds of Claude 
 Lorrain and G. Pouflin ; and, as from thefe it would 
 be impoflible to retrench even a fingle bough without 
 an injury to*the general composition of the fcene, fo 
 Nature is faid to fuffer a fimilar injury if her fore- 
 grounds are injudicioufly deprived of their {hade. — 
 And as, again, the fame defective tafte which would 223 
 thus (trip the foreground where trees are an important 
 feature, if poffefled of power to reach the diftances, 
 might there be induced to plant in fuch a manner as 
 to give them no importance whatever ; to counteract 
 the uniform operation of aerial perfpeclive, by fpot- 
 ting the remote hills with little circumfcribed clumps 
 of dark foliage; and to interfecl by angular fences 
 what is formed to pleafe only by the finglenefs and 
 majefty of the whole, the picturefque principle, with 
 which the general rules refpeciing foregrounds are here 
 
 concluded, 
 
225 
 
 ( »3* ) 
 
 fo concluded, is made the means of commencing a he# 
 fubjecT:, and is accordingly extended to the diftantfcenes, 
 and in this cafe exemplified in thediftancesof Salvator, 
 Rofa ; for as it would be impoffible, among the fub- 
 lime objects of which thefe, for the moft part, confift, 
 without abfolutely fubverting the dignity of his whole 
 compofition, to introduce the petty contrafts refulting 
 from deep fhadowed, but narrowly limited planta- 
 tions, fo Nature is faid to fufFer a fimilar injury, if 
 minute inclofures and formal foliage be allowed to 
 difturb the awful tranquility of her more majeftic 
 fcenes. And the reafon is obvious : the whole fliould 
 be viewed together and not in parts, which would, on 
 account of their remote fituation, very diftinclly {hew 
 their extremities to the eye; whereas in the foreground, 
 neighbourhood intirely precludes the pofiibility of this 
 effect. 
 
 The end and fpirit of this precept then be'mg to 
 preferve proportion and harmony in the relative extent 
 and colouring of thofe parts which enter into the 
 compofition of the diftant fcenery, it will clearly 
 follow that no broad and fober contrafts are precluded 
 by the prohibition. Of nearer objects Nature defines 
 with accuracy at once the outline and the fhadow ; 
 but lofing at a difhnce the intenfenefs of both, (he 
 
 exhibits 
 
'57 ) 
 fekhibits them with blended and doubtful txtremkies ; •' 
 like twilight fhe diminifhes their oppofition, and con- 2:5 
 fcquently exclaims againft whatever fhould attempt to 
 give it an unadapted ftrength : hence dark patches of 
 ill-conforted wood, which rather fecm to flick out 
 from, than compofe a part of, the fcene, are her abhor- 
 rence. But it is not therefore a woody diftance that 
 is obnoxious either to Her or her Poet ; on the con- 
 trary, he inculcates this farther doctrine, that extenflve 
 clothing will be productive of the fame uniform and 
 Fimple greatnefs as extent of any other character 
 whatfoever; but he afcertains its manner of applica- 
 tion, and iftftrucvfe us in thefe cafes to give a forcft ex- 
 tent of wood to diftances even the extremefr, and unite 
 them all by one uninterrupted length of foliage. But 
 extent and continuity are infilled on as indifpenfable 
 here : for as in the fublime ferocity of the fcenes, lad 
 confidered, no little additions were admitted to inter- 
 rupt the general union 5 fo where the character of the 
 diflance is foreft extent, for the fame reafon, little in- 
 termiflions are equally precluded. For as clumps and 
 acute divifions are there faid to form a disproportionate 2i „ 
 contrail, fo here the very fame defect would refult 
 from formal extremities or circumfcribed interruptions 
 of wood, when oppofed to the general hue of the foliage. 
 And here the particular foliage, by which this great 25? 
 S effeft 
 
( 133 ) 
 
 far. effect is befr. obtainedj is fpecificd, and the Oak, the 
 i 53 Elm, and the Chefnut are recommended to the Plan- 
 ter; their hues are fufEciently fimilar, a:iu confequently 
 thatfpecies of Vaiiety alone, which is naturally incident 
 to diftanccs, is aimed at. No fictitious protuberances 
 are arretted by the means of paler verdure, nor, altho' 
 the Fir be permitted, as a protection to the other trees, 
 to afford a temporary fhade, are fudden, and there- 
 fore incongruous, breaks fought after by the admif- 
 fion of darker greens ; the fcene is left to obtain its 
 variety from the effects of light upon its furface ; and 
 thefe, let no man doubt, will be fufficient for his 
 purpofe : for from the undulating form of this the 
 light and fhadow will borrow not only extent and 
 breadth, but foft and uncertain limits ; and even 
 that diverfity of colour which is thus judicioufly de- 
 clined by art, will be amply repaid by the ordinary 
 accidents refulting from the vicifiitudes of weather, 
 and the feveral feafons of the day. 
 
 264 Thus then we fee the picturefque principle exem- 
 pi ified and applied to the living fcenery of Nature j but 
 we are not for this reafon to conceive that Nature is 
 thus rendered fubfervient to an Art over which (he has 
 not herfelf previoufly prefided ; for, tho' fhe may not 
 in every portion of her works have exhibited the full 
 
 perfection 
 
( 139 ) 
 perfection of beauty, yet in fome fhe probably has ; v tr . 
 and though, wherever thefe lovely features occur, fhe 264 
 may not in every inftance have combined them to the 
 greateft pofTible advantage ; yet in fome fhe has certain- 
 ly difplayed the charms of harmonious compofition. 
 Had fhe done this univerfally, or where fhe has done 
 it, were it the talent of every man to obferve and to 
 generalize the principle on which fhe has proceeded, 
 it would be unneceffary here to call in the aid of an 
 imitative Art; but when to thofe alone who have 4 8o 
 cultivated this, the fkill to felect and recombine the 
 beauties of Nature, has been heretofore in a manner 
 confined, to thofe it cannot be deemed unreafonable 
 to refer the Gardener for inftru&ion in the conduct of 
 his own art. To grace and adorn the perfon of the 
 great original herfelf is his pleafing province j and 
 furely He is the mod likely to fuccecd in the discharge 
 of this duty, who moft diligently inveftigates the prin- 
 ciples on which fhe has already been imitated with 
 the happieft fuccefs. From thofe then who, with the 
 h.igheft Tafte and moftdifcriminating powers of felec- 
 tion, have transferred the beauties of Nature to the 
 canvas, we may, without derogation, fubmit to re- 
 ceive inftrudYion, and learn ourfelves to felecT:, to digeft, 
 and to difpofe our fuperiour materials, according to 
 S % rules 
 
( 14° ) 
 rules of compofition that have been primarily dictated . 
 280 by herfelf. 
 
 3°° It is not, therefore, by declining the ftudy of Na- 
 ture, that we are dcfired to aim at attaining that ab- 
 ftra£l Idea of Beauty to which we fhould for ever refer 
 our defigns and works, but by ftudying her through 
 the medium, of an Art which, upon her own prin- 
 ciples, has combined and improved her features 5 
 thus we are afcertained of fuccefs, and having once 
 got poMcfllon of this general archetype, we fee every 
 fpecies of litdenefs fly before it ; every fymptom of 
 mechanifm withdraws, and every trace of geometric 
 order is obliterated ; the Angle declines into the waving 
 Curve, and parts, before acutely divided, now mck 
 into each other with foft and eafy Iranfitions, 
 
 3 i8 And fuch a tranfnion the Poet may be faid to have 
 here exemplified in his own method. We had be- 
 fore been in Articled how far the Powers of Fancy 
 were able to contend with the difficulties ftarted by 
 Nature herfelf, and to remove what appeared to be 
 oven deformity ; and now from a general rule, in which 
 bis abhorrence of mechanick order is inculcated, wej 
 are carried to the confideration of her equal powers 
 to reform the abfurdities introduced by antecedent 
 
 Art. 
 
14* 
 
 ( 141 ) 
 
 Art. The right lined Vifta confequently, however Fa: 
 fandlified by time or circumftance, is condemned to 324 . 
 fall, while only fuch of its trees as can furvive re- 328 
 moval, or fuch as, by concealment of their line, may 336 
 plead for mercy, can hope to avert the ftroke of the 
 Axe : from thefe few, however, a confiderable effect 
 is promifed ; and thus Art, in concurrence with Na- 
 ture, and acling only as her handmaid, is feen refto- 
 ring to Beauty Scenes, which, without that concur- 
 rence, fhe had herfelf previoufly deformed. (C) 
 
 We have now feen the picburefque principle efta- 
 pliihed, and we have traced its operations in the 
 improvement of defective Nature, and the reforma- 
 tion of erroneous Art. We have feen it alfo more 
 agreeably occupied in felecting, heightening, and, 
 arranging the Features of an extenfive Landfcape ori- 
 ginally beautiful : we are now to contemplate its effect 
 upon the only fpecies of rural view that has not yet 
 been brought under indirection : But in this inftance 
 the precept is Caution ; and fo very tenderly is Art 
 permitted to touch the almoft-rmifhed work of Na- 
 ture, that its interference feems rather to be prohibited 
 than invited here. If indeed the fcene fall Ihort of 
 the Poet's defcription, and yet confift of parts that 
 are capable of being rendered conformable to it, it is 
 
 then 
 
( H2 ) 
 
 J^j th.-n the delightful office of Art to break new ground, 
 
 and for the firft time to enter into the fhadowy wild, 
 
 348 J ' 
 
 which bears no mark of ever having heretofore been 
 
 invaded by the hand of man : but here good 7'afte 
 will hold facred the deep folemnity, the filent and 
 folitary grandeur of its dark recedes ; it will move on 
 without imprefling a diftinguifhable veftige, and will 
 only, as it were, by ftealth admit the human eye to 
 355 the enjoyment of their fecluded beauties. If Time in- 
 deed, giving to oblivion every unpleafing idea of 
 their former defignation, has handed~over to Nature, 
 and fhe adopting them has blended with her own 
 •go offspring the antient feats of tyranny and fupetftitipn, 
 Fancy has little more to do than to enjoy the vale, 
 whofe woody fides, forming a gloomy contrail to the 
 rocks that glitter through them, are over-hung by 
 the majeftick Ruins of a Caftle; or in the bottom of 
 perhaps the fame valley to contemplate the more aw- 
 ful Remains of an Abbey ftanding on the margin of a 
 dream, by which the whole i,s watered : For what in- 
 deed remains for her to do ? If abfolute neglect, has 
 obfeured the beauties of the fcene, or rendered it, per- 
 haps, inacccffible, an accefs muft be obtained, and 
 its beauties muft be retrieved from a circumftance 
 equivalent to annihilation : but this is the utmoft that 
 k allowed to Art, and even in the performance o£ 
 
 thefe. 
 
( H3 ) 
 
 thefe neceffary offices, the principal attention muft be V€r. 
 paid to the concealment and difguife of its inter- 3 6o 
 ference. Hence the Poet, inftead of imparting his in- 
 ftruclion in this inftance in the form of precept, has 
 conveyed it by a defcription, and finding (b little mat- 
 ter for maxim, inftead of a leflbn, has given us an 
 archetype for our imitation. 
 
 From the contemplation of Scenes like thefe, the 386 
 Poet now fuddenly directs our obfervation -to the 
 geometrical abfurdities of our antient Gardens, and 
 by thus artfully bringing them into immediate com- 
 parifon, excites our juft indignation againft their un- 
 natural and fumptuous puerilities : Our eye, but now 
 in the enjoyment of Nature's lovelieft freed forms, be- 
 holds, with difgufr, the narrow refiraints under which 
 (he has heretofore been opprefled. Where Art takes 
 Nature for its Archetype, Nature may herfelf im- 
 prove under the conduct of that Art ; but where on 
 the contrary its fource is in itfelf, or to be found ra- 
 ther in the principles than the vifible performances of 
 Nature, the works of Art like this, are never to be 
 adopted in her domains. Painting pre fen ts amirrour 
 to her form ; and before this fhe may drefs herfelf to 
 the improvement of her charms : but what can Ar- 
 chitecture contribute to heighten them ? Having ne- 
 ver 
 
( 144 ) 
 Per. ver borrowed from her it has nothing to reftore; aha 
 3 S6 to become a borrower herfelf, is a condefcenfion be- 
 neath the dignity of her character ; and confequently, 
 however graceful, however majeftick the works of 
 this fine Art may rife, their beauties are their own, 
 they are peculiar to themfelves, and in no refpect ap- 
 plicable to the forms of Nature, who will therefore 
 39 2 fcorn to wear them. Boundlefs in her eafy variety 
 fhe difdains the reftrictions of the line and plummet, 
 and, that fubftitute for the chizzel, the fheers. Yet 
 fuch were the antient implements of the Gardener ; 
 by thefe the green Arcade was formed, and the dwarf 
 vegetable trimmed into the mofaic pavement of the 
 parterre ; by thefe its angular extremities and quick, 
 fmooth flope were given to the terras : by thefe the 
 winding currents of water were compelled to ftagnate 
 in ftraight canals ; artd, to ufe the language of an old 
 French Writer, by thefe they were effectually prevent- 
 ed from ever degenerating into Rivers again. 
 
 The Hiftory of Gardening in England, from the 
 days of Elizabeth to our own time, finds here an eafy 
 introduction, it is accordingly related, and hence we 
 learn the antiquity of that formal mode which has 
 juft been condemned] we alfo learn that however 
 
 obftinately 
 
( 145 ) 
 
 ©bftinately it held its ground, it had yet in every age o^t 
 
 Ver, 
 
 come under the cenfure of the wifcft and mod dif- 
 cerning men; that yielding at laft to theii remon- ^ % 
 flrances and ridicule, it began to give way about the 
 commencement of the prefent century ; and, con- 
 fequently, that at that period the ftyle which forms 
 the fubject of the Poem may be faid to have had its 
 rife, although it has but very lately attained to its 
 perfection. To the works of thofe great Mailers, ,.5 
 therefore, who have brought it to this high ftate, as 
 before to the works of the Painter, we are now re- 
 ferred, with an earned aflurance, that by them we 
 {hall fee the principles of the Art exemplified, and 
 from the ftudy of their practice, be enabled to correct 
 our Tafte and extend our Fancy ; that by exercifing 
 thefe, and giving an actual exiftence to whatever ideal 
 forms and combinations we may have derived from 
 all the fources that have now been laid open to us, 
 we may befiow beauty upon even the ordinary features 
 of natural fcenery, and enter into the refined enjoy- 
 ment of whatever Nature has, in this kind, created 
 moll lovely and complete. (D) 
 
 . 
 
 Having now brought the Commentary on the Firft 
 Book to a conclufion, and throughout endeavoured 
 to maintain and flrengthen the great principle of rural 
 T beauty 
 
( 146 ) 
 beauty which has been prefcribed by the Poet, I feem 
 to hear an objection ftartcd to the juftice of the doc- 
 trine, and to be afked in what manner the practice of 
 the Gardener, who, for the mofl part, makes exceffive 
 neatnefs an object in his fcenes, is to be reconciled 
 with that fpecies of beauty which confifts in rough- 
 nefs of furface, and which appears to have been al- 
 ways aimed at by the Painter of Landfcape. 
 
 To this, in the firft place, I anfwer, that the ob- 
 jection does not affect the general compofition, which 
 is (till moulded according to the picturefque idea ; and, 
 fecondly, that it cannot affect thediftances, which are 
 beyond the reach of any fuch fubordinateconfideration. 
 How far then does it extend r Only to the foreground ; 
 and even in this, not to the defign, but the pencilling - 3 
 for, exclufive of the furface, the form may be prefer- 
 ved to the mofl: faftidious expectations of the Painter. 
 What then remains ? not the drawing of the Picture, 
 for that is allowed to be correct, but juft the manner 
 of handling that fmall domeftic portion which lies 
 immediately beneath the eye. And, furely, when it 
 comes to be confidered, that in generalizing a prin- 
 ciple, and applying it to a new fubject, fome variety 
 mull always refult from the application; and this not 
 from any mutability of the principle itfelf, but from 
 
 the 
 
( H7 ) 
 
 the diverfity of the objects with which it is combined, 
 a variety Co extremely trivial, can hardly be admitted 
 as an objection to the introduction of the picturefque 
 principle into the Art of Gardening ; it falls before 
 this felf-evident proportion, that a rural fcene in 
 reality, and a rural fcene upon canvas, are not precife- 
 ly one and the fame thing. 
 
 But that point, in which they differ here, is not 
 itfelf without a guiding principle : Utility fets up 
 her claim, and declares, that however concurrent the 
 genuine Beauty of Nature and Picture may be, the 
 Garden Scene is hers, and mufr. be rendered conform- 
 able to the purpofes of human life ; if to thefe every 
 confonant charm of painting be added, (he is pleafed ; 
 but by no means fatisfied, if that which is convertible 
 to ufe be given abfolutely to wildnefs. TheWild- 
 nefs of Nature, therefore, is irretrievably fet afide, 
 and, confequently, it is only that kind of beauty 
 which wears the ftamp of human interference that 
 can be cultivated here. Admit that defart Nature is 
 beft arrayed in the rough garb which painting chufes 
 to imitate; yet in the Engl ifh Garden, even in her 
 very fineft fcenery, it is not defirable to preferve her in 
 fuch a ftate of ufelefs purity, that it fhall appear as if 
 no human footftep had even trod the ground. The 
 T z prefence 
 
( 148 ) 
 prefence of the manfion muft for ever refute the fup- 
 pofition. Neatnefs muft, confequently, fuperfede this 
 favage air, for meer flovenly accommodation is, of all 
 defects, the moft difgufting, it is a mean between 
 wildnefs and cultivation, which makes each deftruc- 
 tive of the other, and, confequently, inftead of being 
 both, is really neither. To neatnefs, therefore, the 
 furface of the foreground muft be given : the claims 
 of utility muft be complied with, for the rudenefs of 
 Nature is precluded, and this alone remains: but; 
 even from this no fmall fhare of picturefque beauty 
 may be made to arife, and fmoothnefs itfelf, if thus 
 the means and reafons of creating it appear, and that 
 the fhaven Lawn be feen covered with the flocks 
 which have been the inftruments of its polifh, will 
 be found in a very extenfive degree to conform to the 
 principle originally prefcribed. But I will now go 
 even further, and aver, that it altogether conforms : 
 The Arts which imitate Nature are neceiTarily de- 
 fective in one point, they cannot imitate her mo- 
 tion ; and hence' they are driven to feek for fome 
 fubftitute that may be productive of the fame effect. 
 A roushnefs of furface is produced by quick contrafts 
 of contiguous Light and Shade, which refulting in 
 the appearance of frequent projection and retirement, 
 the Eye, by the rapid fucceffion of thefe, is affected 
 
 in 
 
( H9 ) 
 
 in exactly the fame manner as if the parts were actually 
 moving before it : But is this roughnefs, therefore, 
 neceflary in Nature herfelf ? It certainly is not; and 
 the reafon is, that pofTeffing a real, it would be fuper- 
 fluous to adopt the means by which only a fictitious 
 motion is atchieved : the Principles of Painting, 
 therefore, are univerfally received ; and thus the 
 English Garden, exempted from the neceflity of 
 ufing them, is found only not to accept of the srti? 
 facial refources of Picture. 
 
 COM- 
 
COMMENTARY 
 
 O N T H E 
 
 SECOND BOOK. 
 
 THE Poet having, in the former Book, propofed 
 every general principle relating to the Art of 
 Gardening, it would have been allowable for him to 
 have laid down his pen, and left his readers, in each 
 particular inffance, to have made the application 
 as well as they could for themfelves : But reflecting 
 on the difficulty of carrying general theories into 
 practice, he has himfelf condefcended to take his 
 Pupil by the hand, and to teach him to apply his 
 rules in every portion of his fubjeft. Pie enters ac- 
 cordingly in the following Books into the detail, and 
 inftructs us in the means of executing every part of 
 that great whole with which we had been previously 
 made acquainted ; we have feen the Picture ; we have 
 admired the Compcfition ; and even contemplated its 
 greater features; but we are now to imitate it; we 
 mud, therefore, defcend to fubordinate confederations ; 
 we are no longer to cenfider the effect alone, but to 
 enquire into the means by which it is produced ; and 
 to the fpeculative part of Gardening, henceforward 
 learn to afford the afiiftance of manual operation. 
 
 The 
 
( 152 ) 
 Vtr. The regard that is due to Utility, and the neceflity 
 which fubfifts of rendering even Beauty no more than 
 an adjunct to this in the Englifli Garden, has been 
 already intimated : to fome reflections on the happy 
 effects of their union the prefent portion of the fubject 
 now naturally leads the mind ; and, accordingly, the 
 Second Book opens with an Addrefs to an Art which 
 thus benevolently turns Magnificence from the culti- 
 vation of fumptuous trifles to the improvement of that 
 which is beneficial to mankind. But here, while we 
 18 attend to the precept conveyed in this apoftrophe, we 
 muft be exceedingly on our guard not to mifapply it, 
 or imagine, that by converting beautiful objects to 
 any other than their appropriate ufe, we are acting 
 under its direction : The genuine ipirit and tendency 
 of the rule is not to turn ornament to ufe ; it is the 
 converfe of this, and inflructs us only to make utility 
 the fubject of ornament (E). But even this law is 
 not without its liberal construction : in the great it 
 muft, perhaps, be literally interpreted j yet, like Poe- 
 try, Gardening will frequently acquiefce in a fiction 
 of utility, accept of an End for a Ufe, and ftamp the 
 means which effect it, and the juft adaption of the 
 ornaments to the feeming purpofe, with the name 
 and characters of Truth, 
 
 Under 
 
( 153 ) 
 
 Under the authority of this general maxim then, it ttr. 
 is obvious that the antient formal ftyle of Gardening 35 
 muft neceflarily fall : the Gardener will endeavour to 
 reftore to Nature whatever me has been fo Ions: de- 
 prived of: but as in the infancy of his art there is 
 danger, that in deftroying the right-lined difpofition of 
 his ground, he mould, as was really the fact, run into 47 
 the oppofite extreme, a caution is fuggefted againft all 
 exceflive and overftrained curvatures, and that eafy SI 
 line, which is a mean between them, and which is 
 fpontaneoufly traced in the pathway of every Being 56 
 that moves under the unaffected direction of Nature, 
 is defcribed as the only legitimate fource of beauty 
 and genuine grace ; of this foft and melting curve the 
 application, we are told, muft be univerfal j and that < l 
 not only the pathway, and the outline of wood anJ 
 water muft be guided by it, but that the form of the 
 furface of the ground itfelf muft come under its direc- 
 tion. 
 
 But however gracefully it may flow, and however 
 confidered in itfelf, it may appear to be an abfolute 
 ftranger to geometric rules, yet as all parallelifms j- 
 muft thence derive their fource, even this curve muft 
 not be matched with its own parallel : the green- 
 fward, therefore, through which the pathway winds, 
 muft be varied in its breadth, and the neighbouring 
 U objects 
 
( 154 ) 
 
 J^ objects ftand at that variety of diftance that con- 
 86 trail may refult ; in like manner the furface of the 
 90 ground fhould be divcrfified in its form ; and in every 
 inftance, whether of hill, ground-plan, or plantation, 
 the idea of pairs muft be diligently avoided. With- 
 out this equality the balance may be fufficiently main- 
 9 2 tained, and the means of preferving it are prefcribed 
 by Nature herfelf ; it is not by copying one feature 
 from another that (he proceeds to create a harmony of 
 parts, fhe accomplifhes this end with more variety, 
 nor finds it even neceffary to place her correfpondencies 
 at an equal diftance from the point of view ; for to the 
 remote Mountain fhe frequently oppofes the neigh- 
 bouring Shade or Rock, and thus fatisfies the expec- 
 tations of the Eye with difference and uniformity 
 at once. Hence then Art fhould derive its rule, and 
 by a like oppofition of diffimilar objects give poize 
 and regularity to the general Compofition of her 
 105 Works : the Foreground is her proper diftricl:, here 
 therefore every object, whether of furface or planta- 
 tion, may be formed according to the Tafte of the 
 Proprietor; their mutual adaption is, confequently, 
 at his difpofal, and he is accordingly infrructed in the 
 manner of fuiting both their forms and hues, not only 
 to each other, but to the diftant icenery which is be- 
 held from among them. 
 
( 155 ) 
 
 But in this, and every other operation of Art, the ^* 
 particular character of the fcene muft be mod atten- 210 
 tively confidered," and cultivation affume a manner 
 from the fubjcct with which it connected ; thus the 
 introduction of foil, fufficient to maintain the vegeta- 
 tion of forefl: trees among the rocky clefts, may prove 126 
 the means of removing the black and defolated Air of 
 a Scene, whofe proper character is Majefty ; and thus 
 by a junction of Wood and Rock, and thence a happy 
 contraft of gloom and glitter, Dignity may be made to 
 fuperfede a cold and forbidding afpeft. The fwelling 139 
 Hillock may be made to vary the fatiguing famenefs 
 of the Flat, while this again, oppofed by Plantations, 
 may refult in an animated and chearful Landfcape ; 
 and in like manner variety may be introduced into the 145 
 very Thicket, its uniform darknefs may be chequered 
 by clearing away the inferiour wood, while the re- 
 maining Shade will borrow dignity from the contract- 
 ed Light that is thus admitted into it ; the rivulet too 1 > z 
 fhould here be allowed to fparkle in the fun and affift 
 the oppofition ; and thus we fee not only the balance 
 well adjufted, but the cure that may, by attention to 
 its genius, be applied to the defedls of each particular 
 fpecies of fcenery. 
 
 But of all the purpofes on which the character of a ,.„ 
 Scene fhould be confulted, that is the moft important 
 U 2 which 
 
( 156 ) 
 
 V*r. which determines the mode of adapting ornament to 
 159 Ufe, without permitting it to encroach upon the 
 limits by which it fhould be reftricted ; of thefe, as 
 we have already obferved, it is the bufinefs of the 
 gardener to make fuch a Union, that neither may 
 prove injurious to the other ; ornament muft not in- 
 fringe the claims of Utility, while, at the fame 
 time, it is efL-ntial that Utility fhould not fordidly 
 reject the ornament with which it is becomingly ar- 
 rayed. But it is a Truth, which experience will 
 191 fpeedily evince, that nothing is more difficult than to 
 preferve the proper boundary of thefe ; Pleafure in its 
 v/antonnefs would feelc to appropriate what fhould 
 be deftined to more profitable purpofes ; and there is 
 hardly to be found a profitable Purpofe to which 
 ground may be turned, that is not likely to invade 
 the equitable claims of Pleafure ; the very fheep, in 
 their browzing, thus deftroy the bloom and foliage 
 which give beauty to the Pathway that fteals round 
 their pafture. Where then is the remedy to be 
 j<7 found ? in the Fence, alone ; we muft afcertain their re- 
 fpective Limits ; we muft divide and yet not difunite, 
 and the expedient is as practicable as it is neceflary ; 
 the Fence, by winding freely, may for ever be with- 
 3 -o drawn from the eye, and the very foliage, which it 
 ferves to protect, will at every bend conceal it from 
 
 the 
 
( 157 ) 
 the view. The form of the ground, in each parti- J^ 
 cular inftance, will inftrucl in fome peculiar means l7 ° 
 of difguifing the divifion, but in all it fhould 
 be drawn with that bold line, that the trees and »7 S 
 fhrubbery which adorn the pathway, fhould frequent- 
 ly project into, and appear to blend themfelves with 
 the field ; while the field, in like manner, fhould 
 frequently be feen to form recedes among thefe pro- 
 jected trees ; and here, when the fheep go into thefe, 
 they will feem to be uncontrolled, and the only evi- 
 dence to the contrary will afterwards be, that no- 
 thing has been deftroyed. 
 
 Having thus far fpoken of the Fence, as the necef- j^- 
 fity for its concealment, and the general form of its 
 line are concerned, the Poem now enters into a more 
 practical difcufhon of the various kinds that may be 
 reforted to, and the propereft means to render them 
 at once effectual and invifible ; and of thefe, the firft 
 that is recommended to our choice, is that which 
 is commonly known by the name of the Sunk Fence ; ziQ 
 by this the ground which is feen beyond it, provided 
 its manner of cultivation be any thing fimilar, ap- 
 pears fo intimately and continuoufly united with 
 that on which we ftand ourfelves, that it is almoft 
 always with furprize the divifion is difcovered ; and 
 
 hence, 
 
( 158 ) 
 
 v "- hence, as cxprefllve of that paftion, it obtained, when 
 
 2 6o firft invented, the name of the Ha ! Ha ! The mode of 
 conftructing this is fpecified, and is as follows : Dig 
 
 ?6 5 deep a trench, and to the bafe of the fide from which 
 you look, and which muft be perpendicular and fronted 
 with ftone, the oppofite fide muft be gently floped 
 from the level of the foil ; the verdure of this flope 
 muft be preferved, and the wall which fuftains the 
 
 27 2 neighbouring fide, muft be covered on its top alfo with 
 the green turf, a little raifed above the furface of the 
 foil. This is the ftrongeft manner of conftrucling the 
 Sunk Fence ; but the greateft ftrength is not in every 
 inftance neceffary ; it may, indeed, be requifite, in 
 
 284 order to rtftrain the Deer, but cattje of a tamer kind, 
 will be turned without it ; the perpendicularity and 
 the ftone front of the nearer bank may, therefore, be 
 
 -88 here difpenfed with, and in their place a flope, and 
 at midway down a row of thorns, defended when 
 young with pointed pales, may be fubftituted ; but 
 this muft be kept from furmounting the level of the 
 
 00 Lawn, and its furface made always parallel to the. 
 bank on which it grows. 
 
 But the form of the furface of the ground, the di- 
 rection in which it is to run, and the nature of the 
 inconvenience to be excluded, muft, in every parti- 
 cular cafe, determine the fort of Fence that fhould be 
 
 made 
 
( 159 ) 
 made ufe of; that which we have already feen is beft fv* 
 
 Vcr . ' 
 
 applied, when its line runs directly acrofs the Eye, 3C 6 
 for in this inftance it becomes abfolutely inviiible ; 
 but on the contrary it becomes, of all deformities, - 
 itfelf the moft difgufting, if afcending the Hill in 
 front, or in any other manner offering its end to the 
 view, it exhibits only a gaping interruption of the 
 otherwife continuous furface : in thefe cafes, there- 
 fore, we muft have recourfe to new expedients, and 
 if fheep only are to be excluded from the Pathway, 
 a fufficient defence againft their inroads may be ob- 
 tained from net- work, or wire extended upon com- IQ 
 mo'n (takes ; three rows of ftronger cordage ftretched 
 between pods muft be oppofed to horfes and oxen (F) ; 
 but as thefe are all liable to a thoufand injuries and 
 a fwift decay, and cenfequently will require a trouble- 
 fome degree of attention to keep them in repair, a . 
 more durable fubftitute, but chiefly where the divifion 
 is at fome little diftance, is allowed of, and for this 
 purpofe a well-conftrucled paling of wood-work is 
 recommended ; but as this again might very pro- 
 bably obtrude itfelf upon the Eye, while it is not 
 pofiible that a fence of any kind can be an orna- 
 ment, we are inftrudled in the bell: means of miti- 
 gating the necefiary evil, and preventing its becoming 
 a defect. 
 
 The 
 
( 160 ) 
 
 Vw* The means then are briefly thefe J give to your" 
 
 361 paling no tawdry glare, but as near as poflible the 
 colour of the ground agalnft: which it is feen ; for thus 
 the Eye fhall blend them together, and thus the 
 ground in a manner fhall abforb the Fence. And 
 here the poet, ftfongly feeling, and wifhing to inculcate, 
 the neceflity of this precept, is exceedingly particular, 
 and has left it only for me to reduce his farther inftruc- 
 tions on this head, to the form of a recipe, in 
 which, however, I am obliged to omit the quantity of 
 each ingredient, becaufe it muft always depend upon 
 the circumftances of the fcenery in which the paint 
 
 367 is made ufe of ; take then White-Lead, Oker, Blue-r 
 Black, and a proportionably fmall quantity of Verdi- 
 greafe, and making of thefe an oil paint, fpread it on 
 
 393 the paling; the effect of this, if ufed with judge- 
 ment, will be found fully anfwerable to the moft 
 fanguine expectations ; the limits, as it were, retire 
 from the view, and Ufe and Beauty, which feemed 
 to have fuffered a momentary divorce, are now indif- 
 tinguifhably united again. 
 
 407 But there is a Fence of which the concealment is 
 not equally neceflary, a Fence which genuine tafte 
 will even rejoice to contemplate, for of genuine tafte 
 humanity is the infeparable aflcciate j on the children, 
 
 therefore, 
 
( i6i ) 
 
 therefore, of the labouring Peafants, we are previ- F*r. 
 oufly defned to confer the charge of fuperintending all 407 
 our boundaries, and guarding them from the inva- 
 fions of herds and flocks ; in order to adapt them to 
 this little ftewardfhip, to change their weeds of 430 
 poverty for a more cleanly and comfortable attire ; 
 and arming the infant fhepherds with the proper im- 
 plements of their picturefque office, to employ and 
 poll them where they may be even confpicuoufly 
 ieen. 
 
 From this benevolent precept, the Poet is naturally ^ 
 led to confider the bleffings and mental improvements 
 which attend upon the active occupations and the 
 contemplative retirement of the Gardener, and con- 
 cludes the book with an Epifode in which they are 
 eminently illuftrated. The fcenery of the piece is 
 well deferving of our attentive obfervalion, and the 
 fentiment, however poetically blazoned, ftands firm 
 upon the bafis of hiftoric evidence. 
 
 Cicero has fpoken of retirement in terms not very 
 different from thofe which introduce the Tale of 
 Abdalonimus : " Quis enim hoc non dederit nobis, 
 " ut cum opera noftra Patria five non poffit uti, five 
 " nolit, ad earn vitam revertamur, quam multi dodi 
 X " homines, 
 
( 162 ) 
 
 Ver. " homines, fortafle non redte, fed tamen multi etiam 
 460 " reipublicae praeponendam putaverunt." Cic. Epiji. 
 lib. ix. epiji. vi. But, furely, the Poet has fpoken 
 more decifively like a patriot than even this great de- 
 liverer of his country himfelf; he has not preferred 
 feceflion to the caufe of the public j on the contrary, 
 he has defcribed it as a means of cultivating every 
 talent for its fervice, and a fort of watch-tower from 
 which to look out for the happy moment when they 
 may be called into action ; and in the conduct of his 
 Hero, has prefented it to us in the light of a fchool, in 
 which the leflbns of magnanimity and moderation are 
 taught; and in which the well-difpofed mind, ab- 
 ftracted from the purfuits of the world, will learn the 
 duty of foregoing every private indulgence when the 
 facrifice may render us the fortunate inftruments of 
 reftoring profperity to our country, or extending the 
 happinefs of our fpecies. 
 
 I do not cxclufively challenge for Gardening the 
 whole of thofe attributes which have been by a thou- 
 fand writers afcribed to Agriculture at large, any 
 more than I (hould exclufively claim to the molt per- 
 fect knowledge of architectural ordonnance the entire 
 eulogy that might be pronounced on the art of con- 
 structing habitations. Without the flately column or 
 
 fretted 
 
( i6 3 ) 
 
 fretted roof the Savage might receive protection from 
 the ftorm, and without the pi&urefque fcene the nerves 
 of labour might be braced, and the markets fupplied 
 with the ordinary productions of the field: But on the 
 other hand, without fome portion of thefe refinements, 
 are Agriculture and Architecture adapted to the exer- 
 cife or reception of an Englifh Gentleman r Certainly 
 they are not ; and yet, as we are now inftru&ed to 
 difpofe the Garden-fcene, the occupations of the Farm 
 are not excluded from it ; the purpofes of life are not 
 only attended to, but confulted. Magnificence is no 
 longer a Tyrant, deriving his honours from the def- 
 lation of his territories ; afTuming a milder royalty, 
 he now feeks his chief glory from their fertile ftate ; 
 he fets his polifh upon accommodation, and it is 
 henceforward Utility that the King delighteth to ho- 
 nour. What, therefore, can now be faid in the praife 
 of Agriculture that may not be extended to Garden- 
 ing, with this additional felicity, that being endowed 
 with Pleafures of its own, it counteracts the guilty 
 temptations of fafhionable Vice, and renders the 
 favourites of Fortune partakers with the peafant in 
 the blefiings of innocency and health, without, at the 
 fame time, impofing upon them the neceflity of fha- 
 ring in his toil ; enjoying at once the opportunities of 
 falubrious exercife and contemplative leifure, unaf- 
 X 2 feaed 
 
( 164 ) 
 
 fecled by the little cares of the world, and unalienated 
 by feeing their unamiable influence upon others, ex- 
 empt, fo far as human nature can be exempt, from 
 the afTaults of irretrievable difappointment, Content- 
 ment, which generates the love of man, and a fenfe 
 of gratitude which, if not the thing itfelf, muft necef- 
 farily refult in the Love of God, take pofTeflion of 
 their hearts, and afTume the conduct of their virtuous 
 lives ; and hence, with the man who tills his own 
 ground, the Gardener may be juftly characterized as 
 " one who inflicts no terror ; who entertains no hoflile 
 difpofition, but is an univerfal friend ; whofe hands, 
 unftained with blood, are devoutly confecrated to 
 that God who bjefles his orchards, his vintage, his 
 threfhing-floor, and his plough ; who vindicates his 
 equality in an equal flate, and ftrenuoufly oppofes, 
 himfclf to the unconstitutional encroachments of Ar':- 
 ftocratic ox Monarchic Power." (G) 
 
 COM- 
 
COMMENTARY 
 
 O N T H E 
 
 THIRD BOOK. 
 
 IN an apoftrophe to his memory, the Poet now in- 
 troduces his late lamented friend, Mr. Gray, as 
 delivering his opinion on the fubjecT: of the prefent 
 Poem, and declaring the preference which he gave 
 to the works of Nature over every effort of Art. We 
 are not, however, to conceive that he condemned 
 her juft exertions, becaufe he prefers the more ma- 
 jeftic fublimity of Nature; the contrary inference will 
 follow from the precept with which he clofes his ani- 
 mated counfel : for after he has fhowed the inferiority 
 of art's creative powers, he yet proceeds to regulate 
 her conduct, and dating her proper office, advifes her 
 to conform to the C?non of Nature, and only to curb 
 every fantaftic or capricious variation from her great 
 example. (H) 
 
 The fubject. of the Englifh Garden is not, like that 
 of Thomfon's Seafons, a mere defcriptive Eulogy on 
 the luxuriances and beauties of Nature; it is pre- 
 ceptive, and its end is to polifh Hufbandry, and in- 
 
 ftrua 
 
( 166 ) 
 V<r. ftrucl us in the art of preferving thofe very beauties 
 as far as may be reconcilable with the neceflities of 
 cultivation : thefe had, in the antient mode of Gar- 
 dening, been altogether fuperfeded ; to teach the 
 means, therefore, of recalling them is, finely, not 
 fetting up Art as a rival to Nature, it is making it 
 fu,bfervient and contributory to her ends. If the rude 
 magnificence of untouched Nature could confift with 
 appropriation, it would be unneceflajy to prefcribe 
 any rule ; but when we know that it cannot, and that 
 heretofore a falfe idea of beauty has been entertained, 
 (hall we, therefore, depreciate the value of the lefTon 
 that conveys a better ? Or {hall we, becaufe the praife 
 of Nature is higher than that of Art, declare that Art 
 is notdefervingof our attention? The argument, that 
 on this ground wpuld militate againft the Englifh 
 Garden, will be found to go a great deal farther, 
 and extend to the fubverfion of every other imitative 
 art as well as the Art of Gardening. 
 
 As we have all along confidered the Garden as a 
 Picture, fo we are under the neceflity of confidering 
 the unadorned and naked foil as the Painter's canvas, 
 and, confequcntly, of looking on every means of or- 
 nament as the pencils and colours with which he is 
 to work. But the canvas, with the coarfe outlines of, 
 
 the 
 
( x6 7 ) 
 
 the fcene, are fupplied by Nature ; the former Book v e r. 
 has corrected the drawing ; and now we come to give 
 it all the variety of tints that Wood and Water can 
 afford ; from th'efe it is true the landfcape will derive 
 its moft important charms of light and (hadow, they 
 are neverthelefs reprefented only in the light of fuper- 
 added, though natural, ornament?, as not being ef- 
 fential to the exiftence of the fcene which, confidered 
 in this light, we fee may fubfift without them. From 6, 
 the conduit of the Pathway, the Fence, and the 
 Ground-plan, therefore, the fubjecc now changes 
 firfl to the proper difpofition of Wood jand the pic- 
 turefque purpofes of planting being to conceal de- 
 formities and create ornament, the Planter, tho' it is 
 declared unneceflary for him to be an adept in all ? „ 
 the fcience of the Naturalift, with refpect to the clari- 
 fication of trees, is yet required fkilfully to know their 
 
 96 
 
 feveral forms, their fizes, their colours, their manner 
 of growing, and other external characters, in order 
 that he may be always able to apply them refpe£tively 
 to thofe purpofes which they are beft adapted to an- 
 fvver ; for his ignorance of thefe may lead him into 
 bad miftakesj the Pine, for inftance, by its quick 
 growth and branching arms, feems well calculated to 
 (hut out the low wall or fence from the view, yet a 
 better acquaintance with its habits, will Ihew its un- 
 
 fitnefs -, 
 
( i68 ) 
 
 too, fitnefs ; for as it rifes it is found to fhake off thofe 
 
 115 very arms that might ferve to tempt- the planter to ufe 
 it. Box, therefore, and Holly, &c. are declared more 
 eligible here, becaufe they are found to thicken be- 
 low, and being planted not for their own beauty, 
 but to hide what is defective in other objects, may be 
 brought by the pruning knife to any form that moft 
 
 118 effectually promotes this end. But above all plants, 
 the Laurel has received a preference from the Poet, as 
 at once both anfwering this purpofe, and being in 
 
 j 3 6 itfelf alfo pofitively beautiful. With thefe evergreens, 
 it is farther recommended to blend fuch indigenous 
 Ihrubs as are of early bloom, and though the utmolr, 
 
 IJ0 nicety of feledtion be not attended to, yet we are 
 promifed a..good general effect, one rule only being 
 
 obferved, which is to ran?e the darker foliage behind 
 153 ' & ° 
 
 as a ground to fling forward that which has a brighter 
 hue, and, in Autumn, by their undecaying verdure, to 
 give brilliancy to the ruffet colour which is acquired 
 by the dying deciduous leaves ; but this latter reafon 
 , is not infifted on, the Spring and Summer beinor 
 
 1*31 ' . r O © 
 
 deemed of more important confideration : in order, 
 j6 however, to prevent any breach in the fkneen from the 
 decay of leaves in Winter, the grcatefr. care muft be 
 taken topreferve the line of Evergreens entire. 
 
 Such 
 
( i6 9 ) 
 
 Such is the remedy for low deformities, but to ex- V cr . 
 elude thofe of loftier ftature, the intervention of foreft- js 9 
 trees, fo planted as not to overhang the underwood- 
 shrubbery, is required ; and thefe may be fo managed, 
 as that while they conceal a part they may, at the 
 fame time, convert the remainder of a ftruclure even 
 to an ornamental object. When the barn-like choir 
 and chancel of a country Church, for infhnce, are 
 by means of fuch a fkreen as this fhut out from the 
 view, what can afford a more pleafing appearance than 
 the tower which remains among the deep-fhadowing 
 foliag-e that has ferved to conceal them ? 
 
 '6 
 
 It only now remains to confider planting in the 185 
 light of ornament, and as it fcrves at once to harmo- 
 nize, and give energy to that oppofition cf liojit and 
 fhade which refults, perhaps, too tenderly from the 
 eafy furface of the foil. To the general maxims de- 
 livered in the nrfl book upon this fubjecl:, the follow- 
 ing more particular precepts are therefore now added, 
 and taken together, the whole may be confidered as 
 a complete code of all the laws that relate to this 
 fubjecl:. 
 
 Where the ground is fo elevated as to be itfelf an ja S 
 obftruc"lion, the interpofition of foliage cannot any 
 Y farther 
 
( 170 ) 
 
 Ver. farther abridge the view. Plant boldly, therefore, on 
 
 fuch a brow, it is itfelf your object ; its beauty mu£fc 
 
 arife from the richnefs of its vefture, and confequently 
 
 " the trees with which it is clothed mufl be clofely 
 
 20° planted together ; but on the plain beneath they mufl 
 be fet fmgie, or at wide intervals, and this without 
 any feeming order or the vifible interference of art. 
 
 *io Art mufl, however, in reality interefere, and that 
 for many purpofes ; the indifcriminating hand might 
 clfe exclude an eligible diftance by the interpofitioa 
 of trees which fpread their tops and hang their impe- , 
 netrable branches, while, under her correction, the 
 fcene may be preferved, and fuflicient wood obtained 
 by planting only fuch as bear an airy foliage on light 
 and lofty fterng. 
 
 419 She muft fuperintend the choice of trees defined 
 to form either clumps or an extenfive fhade, and for 
 this purpofe felecl fuch only as are of fimilar cha.- 
 ractcr, fize, and colour, and alfo bear their leaves in 
 the fame feafon. 
 
 316 She will hearken to the dictates of Nature, and 
 carefully avoiding every tranfgreffion sgainft her laws, 
 
 will 
 
( I7 1 ) 
 
 <foiil adapt her plants only to fuch foils and fituations Vcr. 
 as are favourable to their culture. 
 
 Avoiding difproportion, fhe will forbear to plant r 
 the Lawn with low clumps of fhrubbery, and, inftcad 
 of incongruoufly attempting there to interpofe their 
 diminutive ftature for the fake of variety, will range 
 tnem contiguous to the pathway, where alone t' 
 can have confequence, and where the eye may either 
 dwell upon their peculiar beauties, or altogether look 
 beyond them. 
 
 She will teach us alfo to cultivate only the hardy .^ 
 indigenous race of trees, and to avoid the introduc- 
 tion of exotics into the general fcene, from which an 
 ill-adapted climate wiil foon fnatch them, and {o 
 leave a blank. This doclrine the Poet has enforced 
 and exemplified in a fictitious tale, which, however, 
 he concludes with a little abatement of his interdic- 
 tion ; for he allows, that if a tafte for foreign plants 
 muft be gratified, it may be indulged in fome lateral 
 fecLufion from the general fcene fheltered from ever/ 
 rougher blafh and open only in mild and favorable 
 
 afpec 1 :^. 
 
 
 y 2 
 
( *7 2 ) 
 
 Ver. The fubjeft of planting being how concluded with 
 30I a very brief recapitulation, referring the particular 
 inflances to good tafte^ and limiting every precept 
 3*3 that would attempt to regulate this to little more than 
 prohibitory caution, a fubfequent evil is fujrgefred, 
 which is the overgrowth of trees beyond the line they 
 were intended to defcribe, by means of which, when 
 the effect is obtained it is almoft as foon loft; but 
 the Planter whofe materials (iii this differing from 
 thofe of the Painter) will not retain their forms, is 
 allured of his remedy in attention ; and of being able 
 to reftore his outline by introducing the axe and pru- 
 ning knife to cut off the luxuriance that has infringed 
 thofe limits which his pi&urefque idea had originally 
 prefcribed. 
 
 342 Care then, we perceive, is neceffary to preferve what 
 Tafte had created, but this neceflky, we are told, 
 fhould not yet difcourage us from the purfuit of 
 beauty : Mutability is a common lot, and the pofli- 
 
 349 bility of Winter-torrents might be equally well urged 
 
 350 againft the introduction of Water into a Scene, or 
 that it is liable to be dried away by violent Summer 
 heats. And here the Poet, by means of this exempli- 
 
 r < 4 fication, with great addrefs changes his theme from 
 Wood to Water ; he feems to pant beneath the fer- 
 vours 
 
( *73 ) 
 Vours he has iuft defcribed, and feeking a refuge in for. 
 the coolnefs of the element he has named, aflumes 
 the latter as a fubjecl: which the heat he fuftains has 
 rendered grateful to his mind. 
 
 The tendency which Nature has beffowed -upon 359 
 every portion of her works is vindicated to them as a 
 fpecies of right, and that of Fluidity being an active 
 defcent to the loweft beds, the falfe principles upon 
 which the French, as defcribed by R.ipin, have endea- 
 voured to give an upward current to water by means 
 of Jet d'eaux, with all their fantaftic varieties, are 
 cenfured as an infringement of its equitable claims ; 
 while the dank bottom ground, which is, on that 379 
 account, unfavourable to vegetation, is declared to be 
 the proper receptacle of this element. Kere then, if 
 fufficiently copious; let it fpread ; or, if more fcantily 381 
 fupplied, and that the declivity of the foil be fuch as 383 
 to afford it a channel, let.it rather affume the form of 
 a river; for to this, Extent which is in general beyond 
 the reach of Art, and yet the ufual character of natural 
 lakes, is not required. But, be the difpofition what 
 it may, we are defired in either cafe to give to water 385 
 an air of freedom in its outline, and a bolder curve 
 than that which has been already prefcribed for the 
 pathway ; the natural reafon of which precept is, 
 
 that 
 
c m > 
 
 V*r. that the bafe of every little inequality in the ground 
 jets into and turns it, and confequently, as it is un- 
 able to climb and furmount thefe, it muff receive 
 them as limits to its bed or channel. Thefe, it is true, 
 the torrent may cut or wear away, and hence the 
 rocky and perpendicular bank has its original ; but 
 unlefs we have the means to fupply a torrent fpced to 
 our artificial rivers, this fpecies of margin is not a 
 proper iubjecr. for our imitation. 
 
 398 Though the river has obtainted a preference on ac- 
 count of the difficulty of giving fufficient greatnefs to 
 the lake, the latter is not, however, profcribed, and 
 the fmalleft extent of water is allowed of for the pur- 
 pofe of reflecting foliage and its accidents, and as a 
 fcene for Water- fowl, &c. provided that it be in a 
 
 , fequeflered fituation, and well furrounded with foreft- 
 trees ; but unlefs fo bounded, thefe diminutive pods 
 aredeclared tobe abfolutely inadmiflible, nothing being 
 more obnoxious to the eye than fuch palpable patches ; 
 for even the greateft rivers, if by their windings they 
 are rendered feemingly difcontinuous, and are cauoht 
 only at broken intervals, are adjudged difgufting, be- 
 in?* thus reduced to pools, unlefs indeed they afford a 
 confiderable itretch of water contiguous to the be- 
 holder's illation, in which cafe the eye is carried on 
 
 to 
 
( i/5 ) 
 to their diftances, and thus unites their divided parts Vcr> 
 without any other afliftance. 
 
 Fill then the channel you give to the water, pro- 4 T S. 
 vided the beft effect of river is fought for, in order 
 that it may not be interrupted in its windings, but 
 {till demonftrate its own continuance j but when this 
 has in reality found its determination, let the eye 
 there encounter fome ftrong feature of wood or hiil 
 feemingly interpofed; for beyond this, if conducted 
 with judgment, the imagination will certainly con- 415 
 tinue to prolong the ftream. And here a consideration 
 of the neceffity we lie under of procuring abundant 
 fupplies of water for all thefe purpofes, leads the Poet 
 to a direct prohibition of every attempt to introduce 
 this great natural ornament, unlefs we can give h per- 
 fection from fuch fupplies. 
 
 The flat lake and low-bedded river being thus dif- 4*3 
 miffed, we now come to the rules which teach the 
 itreams to defcer.d with beauty from their higher 
 fources to the vallies underneath. But firfr, the falfe 
 tafte of our anceftors, which conducted water thus 
 circumftanced down by fteps, as it were, and for 
 refting-places, difpofed it in fhort canals, fo ranged 
 one. beneath another as in profile to afford the appear- 
 ance 
 
( 1JO ) 
 
 Vtp. ance of flairs, but of length and continuance frcrr; 
 fome one favoured point of view, is cenfured as de- 
 
 4*9 ferving only our contempt, which we ought to be- 
 ftow Hill more liberally on that mode of communi- 
 cation which conveys it from thofe above to thofe 
 below by flights of narrow ftajrs, whether it is fuffered 
 at all times to trickle down, or hoarded, on account 
 
 438 of its fcarcity, to be devolved only at long and arbi- 
 trary intervals; for the cafcade, fuch as Nature has 
 exhibited, and fuch alone is recommended to our. 
 prefent purpofe, requires an abundant ftore of water, 
 which muft firft be provided ere imitation is attempt- 
 
 450 ed, and inftead of narrow fteps requires a vail mound. 
 
 462 to fall over (I), which, when raifed, muft have it's 
 front beautified with rocks to fhape the fall, and give 
 it the majeftic rudenefs of Nature. (K) 
 
 4/3 
 
 But as the pofTeilion of thefe more magnificent 
 features of Iandfcape is beyond the limits of moft 
 men's power, every attempt to atchieve them without, 
 a previous certainty of fuccefs is difcouraged, and we 
 are defired to acquiefce in the enjoyment of the little 
 rivulet which waters almoft every fcene ; nay its im- 
 provement, if requifite, is permitted ; but this muft 
 be nude to correfpond exactly with its character : it 
 is not the office of genuine art here to (tagnate the 
 
 lively 
 
( ^7 ) 
 
 Hvely dream into width of lake, cr by retarding its &r. 
 current to give it the form of a flow- moving river ; on 49 o 
 the contrary, fhe will try to fret, and fo to increafe 
 its murmuring courfe as to continue it ftill, only in a 
 higher degree, what Nature originally formed it. 
 
 On the fecluded margin of one of thefe clear rivu- 
 lets, the Poet prefenting himfelf as feated, there tefti- 
 fying the fitnefs of fuch a iltuation to excite Fancy, 
 and in a fhort hiftory of his own life giving an in- 
 flance how conftantly he has been enamoured of this 
 kind of aquatic fcenery, proceeds to confer a form 
 and voice upon the lovely ftream that has fo (Irongly 
 captivated his imagination. That voice which he 
 has thus borrowed, he accordingly makes her now 
 raife, and concludes the book with a recital of the 
 Song, in which fhe aptly renders the feveral qualities 53 1 
 of her little current fo many examples of virtue to 
 human Nature : her reflection of the ray fhe receives 54* 
 from the fun reads to man a leflbn of gratitude ; the 
 nurture afforded to every little flower that embroiders 546 
 her banks, of extenfive benevolence; (he feeks the 
 
 lowlieft vale for the path of her waters, and thence 
 
 . . 54? 
 
 rebukes the afpiring career of Ambition ; fhe calls 
 
 on Sloth to mark her brifk and unceafing current; r y - 
 
 and fwelling to an indignant torrent effectually to 
 
 Z k# 
 
( i7» ) 
 
 Hr. refift the Tyranny of Art, contcmptuoufly derides 
 
 ***** 
 
 555 the fervile Spirit ; (he then commiffions her Poet to 
 5J5 report her counfels, and with a warning voice to pro- 
 nounce the vices (he has reprobated to be the caufe of 
 a nation's overthrow; but, if neglected, himfelf to 
 take the leflfon and monopolize the profits he is denied 
 the means of communicating ; and thus we become 
 almofl perfuaded that we find the afTertion of Shake- 
 fpear's Duke in As you like it, even literally verified, 
 the little brook has infrru£ted us in good ; 
 
 *■ And thus a life exempt from public haunt 
 
 * c Finds tongues in trees, books in the running ftreams, 
 
 " Sermons in ftones, and good in every thing." 
 
 COM- 
 
COMMENTARY 
 
 O N T H E 
 
 FOURTH BOOK. 
 
 Simplicity having already reformed the tafte and 
 corrected the falfe principles of Gardening ; de- 
 lineated the genuine curve of Nature; inftruclied us 
 in the means of uniting Beauty with Ufe, and to this 
 end concealed the neceflary fence which forms their 
 common limit; having promulged the laws of Plant- 
 ing, and directed the proper courfe or bed for Water, 
 is once more invoked to continue her afliftance, while 
 the Poet proceeds now to the consideration of artificial 
 ornaments, that is, of fuch works of Architecture 
 and Sculpture as may, without derogation from its 
 dignity, be admitted into the Garden Scene. 
 
 But this is not the whole, for the fourth Book 
 not only extends to artificial ornament, but is a kind 
 of recapitulation of -all that has gone before, which, 
 exclufive of variety, the declared purpofe of its Au- 
 thor, gives, even in point of Ariel propriety, a, pre- 
 ference to the form of a tale in which it is conceived; 
 for were it preceptively written, it muft have been 
 refUi&ed to its fingle fubjecl, while the ordinary rules 
 2 2 of 
 
Ver. 
 
 ( l80 ) 
 
 of compofition allow a latitude and allot the bufinefs 
 of exemplification and enforcement to the conclufion. 
 The dcmefne of Alcander accordingly fhews us 
 not the example only from which we may, on the 
 prefent portion of the fubject, deduce for ourfelves 
 the rule, but in its general difpofition demonftrates the 
 great advantage of attending to every rule that has 
 been already prefcribed. 
 
 Thefe, however, have been confidered in their re« 
 fneclive places, and therefore it only remains for me 
 to difcufs the principles of artificial ornament as they 
 are fet forth in the practice of Alcander. 
 
 65 All veitiges of former Art being obliterated, and 
 Nature reftored to her original fimplicity, the ftudy 
 of congruity in ornament is the firft maxim that offers 
 itfelf to our observation ; and, therefore, if the prin- 
 cipal ftruclure or manfion be Gothic, the ornamental 
 
 jo buildings fhould be made to agree with it. Even fuch 
 neceffary ftru£tures as the offices of a Farm, feldom 
 ornamental in themfelves, may, at a proper diftance, 
 receive this character j by being mafked with the 
 fictitious ruins of a caftle they will appear as if the 
 reliques of an antient fortrefs had been turned' to the 
 purpofes of hufbandry, and thus, inftead of offending 
 
 the 
 
( iSi ) 
 
 the fight, be converted to a correfpondent and even a y tr . 
 noble object ; while a mouldering Abbey will better ^^o* 
 ferve to conceal thofe domeftic ftru&ures that ftand 95, 
 nearer to the view. 
 
 But not only the mutual agreement of buildings 
 fhould be attended to, but their agreement with the 
 circumfrances of the fcene in which they are intro- 
 duced ; the Caftle, for inftance, fhould derive the 
 probability of having flood in former ages, from a 
 fituation in which it is probable that a former age 
 would have placed it for the purpofes of defence and 
 ftrength ; to this, therefore, an elevated fituation is 
 adapted, while a fecluded recefs and contiguity to 
 running water, are not among the leaft efTential cha- 
 racters of the Abbey, which fhould, now that time is 
 fuppofed to have pafled over it, ftand backed with 
 wood, and fo funk in fhade as to give it an air of 
 antique folemnity ; for the great and venerable tree 
 will be confidered as a kind of witnefs to its age, 
 while diligence fhould be ufed to bring forward the 
 growth of Ivy to aflift in giving credit to the fiction. 
 
 Still farther, in every ornamental building of what- 
 foever kind, an agreement of its parts among them- 
 selves is to be maintained j in thofe already infhnced 
 
 i: 
 
( xfe ) 
 
 V*. it is requifite that every chara&er of each fhould be 
 preferved with the moft fcrupulous precifion: omiflion 
 of parts indeed may be juftified by the fuppofition of 
 ruin and decay ; but what can palliate the abfurdity 
 of annexing parts unknown to antiquity, and alto- 
 gether foreign from the original purpofes of fuch a 
 ftructure. 
 
 Thefe are the greater! poflible artificial features, 
 and as they muft neceffarily preclude all littlenefs, and 
 confequently exceed the abilities of moft improvers, 
 they are converted to ufes which muft, undoubtedly, 
 be fomewherc complied with, and which will, there- 
 fore, defray at leaft fome part of the charges. Thefe 
 alio belong to the general fcenery, and confequently 
 admit of no difpenfation either with refpect to their 
 greatnefs, or propriety in the manner of conftrucl:ing 
 them. The inference is obvious : where the execu- 
 tion, from its proper point of view, cannot amount 
 to abfolute deception, let the attempt be altogether 
 relinquifhed : to fictitious buildings of this nature I 
 have never yet heard an objection (and many an ob- 
 jection I have heard) that in fubftance extended farther 
 than to fuch as are ill performed, and againft fuch I 
 am as ready to give my voice as the fevereft critic 
 that has ever pafted judgment upon them. (L) 
 
 JBut 
 
( i*3 ) 
 
 But, apart from the general, there is alfo another Pir, 
 fpecies of fcenery to which alone the ornament may ,19 
 be referred without confidering its relation to the 
 whole : Thus, if the valley be fo funk as to make no 
 part of the profpecl, the ftru£ture that adorns it may 
 be adapted rather to this of which it will conftitute 
 an important feature, than to the whole, of which* 
 by the fuppofition, it makes no part at all ; to this 
 retired valley, therefore, if watered by a rapid ftream, 
 the grotto is well adapted, for the water trickling thro' 
 its roof, will ferve to keep it always cool for refrefli- 
 ment ; but even here within itfelf, confiftency of orna- 
 ment muft be attended to ; and whether the fcene in 
 which it is placed be inland, or in view of the ocean, 
 the building muft only be incrufted with the produc- 
 tions that are natural to its fituation and the foil. 
 
 The Flower-Garden alfo comes under this defcrip- 173 
 tion ; and therefore it is required, that it fhall ftand 
 apart from the general fcene, and be whatever it is 
 within itfelf ; fome glade or (heltered feclufion is con- 
 fequently its proper fituation. The form and difpo- 194 
 fition of the flower-beds, though very irregular, muft 
 not appear broken into too many round and disjointed 
 patches, but only feem to interrupt the green-fward 
 walks, which, like the mazy herbage that in foreft- 
 
 fcenes 
 
f 184 ) 
 
 r * r « fcenes ufually furrounds the underwood tufts of 
 194 thorn, wind carelefsly among them, and running 
 from fide to fide through every part of the fcene, 
 frequently meet the gravel path that leads round 
 the whole. The Flower-Garden being profefledly a 
 worlc of art, will no more defire to catch profpedts 
 beyond its own limits than it feeks tg be feen from 
 4 c6 without itfelf; the internal fcenery, therefore, muft 
 confift of objects adapted to a neighbouring eye, pre- 
 sent it with graceful architectural forms, and call to. 
 mind, by their emblems, the Virtues and the Arts that 
 deferve our cultivation, or by their bufts the names of 
 men, who, by cultivating thefe, have deferved. our 
 grateful remembrance, 
 
 3 I2 But among all the ornaments of the Flower-Garden, 
 the Confervatory is intitled to the pre-eminence j 
 great, however, as it may be rendered, it is not yet 
 requifite that its ftyle fhould coincide with that of the 
 manfion ; it fhnds in a feparate fcene, there forms 
 the principal feature, and, confequently, inftead of 
 receiving, fhould itfelf prefcribe the mode to which 
 every inferiour ornament mult be made to conform. 
 
 Separation 
 
( i85 ) 
 Separation from the general fcene is likewife re- V*. 
 quifite for the recefs where domeflic fowl are reared ; 314 
 and as thefe are of two kinds, the land and the 
 aquatic, their little demefne mull confift of parts 
 adapted to the habits of each : the lake ftudded with 
 fmall iflancls, and furrounded with a grafly bank, will 
 afford them every accommodation of this nature ; and 
 the narrownefs of the fpace required will give propriety 325 
 to the introduction of fome clailic emblematical orna- 
 ments ; while the whole animated plot may be enjoyed 334 
 from a bower or ruftic feat, lb lituated as at once to 
 comprehend it all, and fo circumftanced as to fhut out 
 the glare of the noontide fun by the means of climb- 
 ing fhrubbery, which will ferve at the fame time to 
 invert: the v/all and conceal the mafonry of which this 
 bovver muft necefTarily be conftrucled. 
 
 Thefe three confiftencies, for fuch they may be 
 ' called, with the fcene, with each other, and of each 
 within itfelf, being thus declared neceflary to artificial 
 ornaments, and exemplified in a Gothic fcheme, the 
 manner of maintaining them, where the manfion or • 
 principal ftrudture is of Greek Architecture, is now 388 
 prefcribed ; and here, inftead of the majeftic Ruin, 
 the great ornaments of the general fcene mould rather 
 conftfl: of the Temple, the Obeliflc, the Column, or 
 A a triumphal 
 
 
( 1S6 ) 
 
 Vtr. triumphal Arch. The fragment, however, of the 
 
 388 Gothic Structure is not to be confidered as an incon- 
 
 fiftency in England ; it may be the refidue of an age 
 
 that actually once exifted ; it has, confequently, a 
 
 kind of prefcriptive right to its ftation, and fhould 
 
 not therefore be obliged to conform ; while the Greek 
 
 400 buildings that are raifed to fuit the manfion muft be 
 
 made to appear its modern cotemporaries, the idea 
 
 of a Greek Ruin in England being a contradiction 
 
 both to hiftory and experience. 
 
 4°3 Every argument to prove the neceffity of maintain- 
 ing confiftency, being in a manner exhaufted, it re- 
 mained only for the Poet with ridicule to explode the 
 heterogeneous mifcellanies of buildings which have 
 been fometimes drawn together from remote parts 
 of the earth, and by a comic painting of the puerile 
 chaos to render it contemptible in our eyes. 
 
 639 As it feerhs to have been our Author's intention to 
 felect from the variety of buildings, which have 
 ufually found a place in our modern Gardens, fuch 
 as were capable of being introduced with the greateft 
 congruity, and, when fo introduced, capable of pro- 
 ducing the beft effect, he could not well overlook, 
 that moft common of them all, the Hermitage ; he has 
 
 therefore 
 
; 
 
 ( 187 ) 
 
 therefore allotted to it a fituation retired and folitary; *•«•• 
 but, as the melancholy circumftances of his tale led 
 'him to do, he has alfo made it a kind of monumental 
 ftruclure; here as elfewhere, both by example and 
 precept, conveying to us thefe important leflbns, that 
 fuch melancholy memorials fhould only be raifed 
 where a real intereft in their objecl: gives them pro- 
 priety, and that where the circumftance recorded is 
 near the heart, fimplicity fhould be moft ftudioufly 648 
 confulted, as emblems and unappropriated orna- 
 ments mud necefTarily prove contemptible to a mind 
 which is too much in earned to derive any pleafure 
 from fidion. (M) 
 
 Although it has been my province to divide what 
 the Poet has moft clofely interwoven, to decompound, 
 as it were, this part of the Poem, and feparate the 
 preceptive maxims from the tender narrative in which 
 they are involved, I cannot, however, conclude with- 
 out obferving that this book appears to me to be 
 unique in its kind, as combining with infinite addrefs 
 in one natural whole, the dramatic, the defcriptive, 
 and the didactic genera of writing. To elucidate the 
 laft is all that I have attempted ; and if what I have 
 written tends, in any fort, to give the lefs attentive 
 kind of readers a clearer conception of the general plan 
 A a 2 of 
 
( i88 ) 
 Ver. of the Poem, and of the connexion of its parts with 
 each other, it will add confiderably to the pleafure I 
 have already enjoyed in this agreeable occupation. 
 
 665 Having now finifned the whole of his fubjeft, he 
 concludes this book, as he had done the firft, with an 
 addrefs to thofe of his countrymen who have a relifh 
 for the politer arts \ but as an interval of more than 
 ten years had part between the times when the fir ft 
 and fourth books were written, that art, therefore, 
 which in the former he exhorts them to practice for 
 the embellifhment of a then profperous country, in the 
 
 g-, latter he recommends, merely for the purpofeof amufe- 
 ment and felf-ccnfolation, at a period when the free- 
 dom and profperity of that country lay oppreffed be- 
 neath the weight of an immoral, a peculating, a fan- 
 guinary, and defolating fyftem. Hiftcry, when fhe 
 tranfmits the records of the year 1781, will beft con- 
 vince poflerity that this conclufion of the Poem had 
 in it as much propriety when it was written, as they 
 will feel that it has pathos when they perufe it. 
 
 It is rcferved for me to conclude this Commentary 
 in a happier hour : When a great and unexpected 
 minifterial revolution gives us Good reafon to hope 
 that the fvvord which was drawn to obliterate the rights 
 
 of 
 
( 189 ) 
 
 of mankind, and cut up the fecuritics of Property, 
 will foon hide its difappointed and guilty edge in its 
 fcabbard ; that commerce will once more return with 
 opulence to our fhores ; and that a juft, a generous, 
 and a liberal Policy will fcorn to reftrain her benefits 
 to a fingle diftric"r. of a great and united Empire. I 
 have only to afic of Heaven to haften the maturity cf 
 thefe bleffings; to give them perpetuity ; and, inftead 
 of fuffering a barbarous and debilitating luxury to 
 grow upon that profperity of which it has thus afford- 
 ed us a profpe£t, to invigorate our very amufements, 
 and teach us with a manly and patriot pride, in the 
 hours of peace and relaxation, to aim at lifting our 
 country to that fuperiority in genuine Arts which we 
 have fo lately begun to vindicate to her in juft and 
 honourable Arms. 
 
 The End of the Commentary 
 
 [ay 30, 1782. NOTES 
 
NOTES 
 
 UPON THE 
 
 POEM 
 
 And 
 
 COMMENTARY. 
 
 
Such of the following Notes as are marked with 
 numeral Letters and the number of the Verfe refer 
 to the Poem, and were inferted by the Author in the 
 former quarto Editions of its feparate books. Thofe 
 marked with the capital Letters of the Alphabet and 
 the Page refer to the Commentary. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 UPON 
 
 BOOK THE FIRST 
 And its COMMENTAR Y. 
 
 Note I. Verfe 30. 
 At this fad hour, my defolated foul. 
 
 THIS Poem was begun in the year 1767, jiot 
 long after the death of the amiable peribn here 
 mentioned. See Epitaph the fir J} in the Author's Poems. 
 
 Note A. Page 121. 
 
 I think it proper to apprize my Reader, that I ufe 
 
 the general term Gardening for that peculiar 
 
 fpecies of modern improvement which is the fubject 
 
 of the Poem, as it is diflinguifhed from common 
 
 horticulture and planting. The Gardener in my 
 
 fenfe, and in that of the Poet, bears the fame relation 
 to the Kitchen- Gardener that the Painter does to the 
 Houfe- Painter. 
 
 Note B. Page 130. 
 
 The few defcriptions of Gardens which occur in 
 
 the writers of antiquity, cut off all hope of obtaining 
 
 any claflical aid to the art. In that of Alcinous the 
 
 B b charm 
 
( 194 ) 
 charm confifts not in the happy difpofition of the 
 little plot, for it was hedged in and contained only 
 four acres, but in the fupernatural eternity of its 
 bloom and verdure, and the perpetual maturity of 
 its fruits. The hanging gardens of Babylon, and 
 of the Egyptian Thebes, like the pafrures on the 
 roof of Nero's golden palace, are rather to be con- 
 fidered as the caprices of Architecture. The younger 
 Cyrus, according to Xenophon's account of his occu- 
 pations, had, perhaps, a more ju(t idea of magnifi- 
 cence, yet fHll the orderly arrangement of his quin- 
 cunxes could never have confuted with the picturefque 
 principle. If we turn to the primitive Romans, their 
 Agrarian la»vs, however iil executed, directly operated 
 aeainft this art, and we find Cincinatus called not 
 from his Garden but his Farm to afTume the govern- 
 ment of his county j and as to the Liternum of 
 Scipio, that Simplicity of life, which is fo highly 
 auded by Seneca, and the very little care he took 
 even to accommodate himfelf there, will give us rea- 
 fon to believe that he rather neglected than ovcr- 
 polifhed his villa. Cicero was a profefied admirer of 
 topiary ivcrks, which exactly correfpond with the 
 green ftatuary, the efpaliers, and trellis- work of our 
 own old gardens : '* Trahitur enim Cupreffus in 
 ** picturas opere hirbriali, venatus cLuTcfve, et ima- 
 
 " ?ines 
 
( '95 ) 
 
 " glnes rerum tenui folio, brevfque et vircnte fuper- 
 ** veftiens." Plin. Nat. Hijl. lib. 6. cap. 33. 
 
 From the laboured defcription which the Younger 
 Pliny has given us of his own Thufcan Villa, we 
 may at once infer the truth of our Poet's panegyric on 
 the general appearance of Italy, and alfo that Garden- 
 ing had not improved at Rome beneath the imperial 
 yoke. Nothing can exceed the beauty of that fcenery 
 which this elegant writer has laid before us: " A 
 " Theatre, fuch as Nature alone could conftrucTt, is 
 *' prefented to our eye: a Valley is extended at the 
 " foot of the furrounding Appenine, whofe loftielt 
 " fummits are crowned with old patrician Forefts, 
 w while the defcending fides are covered with foliage, 
 " there only interrupted where fome bold projections 
 " lift their heads above it: Vineyards extended on 
 " every fide occupy the bafe of the mountain, while 
 " the valley beneath looks chearful with meadows and 
 *' cornfields, and all the varieties of inclofure and cul- 
 " tivation ; the whole is fertilized by eternal rills 
 •' which are, yet no where collected in aftagnant lake, 
 ** but hurry down the declivities of the ground into 
 *' the Tiber, which, forming here a vaft navigable 
 " ftream, and reflecting the whole landfcape from \m 
 «* fmooth furfacc, divides the valley in the midft." 
 B b 2 Such 
 
( '96 ) 
 
 Such are the glowing fcenes of Italy, and how well 
 adapted they are to the canvas Pliny himfelf has per* 
 ceived ; for he declares, " the view before him to 
 " referable a picture beautifully compofed rather than 
 " a work of Nature accidentally delivered." 
 
 And now having contemplated the profpe£t, it is 
 time to turn our eye to the proprietor, and the cha-" 
 racier of that foreground from which he was pleafed 
 to enjoy it. Behold him then hemmed in by a nar- 
 row inclofure, furrounded with a graduated mound, 
 tracing, perhaps, his own or his Gardener's name 
 icribbled in fome fort of herbage upon a formal par- 
 terre, or ranging in allies formed of boxen pyramids 
 and unfhorn apple-trees placed alternately, in order, 
 as he declares himfelf, " happily to blend rufticity 
 " with the works of more polifhed art-," nay, it 
 is even poffible that feated now upon a perforated 
 bench, fo contrived as, under the prefTure of his 
 weight, to fling up innumerable jets d'eau, he 
 thence takes in the view of this " vaft Theatre of 
 " Nature" from between the figures of fantaflic 
 monrters or the jaws of wild beafts, into which he 
 has fhorn a row of box-trees a.t the foot of an even 
 fioping terras. In brief, in a foreground probably 
 defigned, but certainly applauded by the Younger 
 
 Pliny, 
 
I J 97 ) 
 Pliny, no veftige of Nature is fuffered to remain j 
 and if, from a man of his erudition and accomphfh- 
 ments, we receive no better a model for our imitation> 
 I believe we may fafely infer, that however lovely 
 Italian fcenery in general may be to the eye, the 
 fearch of claffic aid to the Art of Gardening mull: 
 prove abfolutely fruitlefs : By one of his contempo- 
 raries, it is true, the defective tafte of his age was 
 obferved, but the cenfure affords an argument of its 
 univerfality while it exempts only the fcnfible indi- 
 vidual who pronounced it. 
 
 In vallem Egeriae defcendimus et fpeluncas 
 Diflimileis veris. Quanto prseftantius effet 
 Numen Aquae, viridi fi margine clauderet undas 
 He;ba, nee ingenuum violarent marmora tophum. 
 yu-ven. Sat. iii. ver. ij. 
 
 The villa of the Gordiani, defcribed by J. Capi- 
 tolinus, is in much the fame ftile, nor does that of 
 Dioclefian feem to have poflefled any advantage over 
 it. 
 
 I fhould not name the fictitious Garden of Pfyche, 
 as delineated in very general terms by Apuleius, but 
 for the purpofe of introducing one of a much later 
 date, defcribed by his commentatsr Beroaldus, and 
 
 fo 
 
( 198 ) 
 fo illuflrating the equally defective Tafte of moderrf 
 " fuperftitious Italy." " Behold then the faireft and 
 moft magnificent feat fubfifting: in the territories of 
 Bologna in the year 1510 ; and we find its beauties 
 to confift of a marble fountain, in a green inclofure, 
 throwing the water up by the means of fiphons ; of a 
 fifh-pond annexed to this ; and of a long and right- 
 lined canal between two parallel (tone-walls, while 
 another {tone-wall of ten feet high, but broad enough 
 at top to admit of two perfons walking abreaft on it, 
 completely excludes the view of the country and of 
 the natural river from which this canal is fupplied 
 with water." In the year 1550 we find a Cardinal & 
 Valle, at Rome, employed in ere&ing a hanging 
 Garden on the columns of his paLce. Strada, who 
 was himfelf a Roman, gives us his own idea of a 
 perfect Garden in the middle of the laft century, and 
 like that of Pliny, it principally coniifts of jets d'eau 
 and green flatuary : And Bifnop Burnet, in the year 
 1685, defcribes the Borromean Garden in the Lago 
 Maggiore, as " rifing from the lake by five rows of 
 " terraffes on the three fides of the Garden that are 
 " watered by the lake ; the flairs are noble, the walls 
 «« are all covered with Oranges and Citrons, and a 
 « more beautiful fpot of a Garden cannot be feen." 
 He afterwards informs us, in more general terms, that 
 
 «' the 
 
( 199 ) 
 
 $< the Gardens of Italy are made at great coft : the 
 " fratues and fountains are very rich and noble; the 
 " grounds are well bid out, and the walks are long and 
 "even, but they are fo high- fcented by plots made 
 " with box, that there is no pleafure to walk in them; 
 " they alfo lay their walks between hedges that one 
 " is much confined in them. In many of their Gar- 
 " dens there goes a courfe of water round the walls, 
 " about a foot from the ground, in a channel of ftone 
 " that goes round the fide of the wall." So here is 
 an Italian Garden, walled round, watered by foun- 
 tains, and an elevated {tone-channel at its extremities, 
 and divided into box-plots by long, even, high-hedg- 
 ed walks; " but they have no gravel," he fays, "to 
 " make thefe firm and beautiful like thofe we have 
 f* in England ;" and hence, perhaps, it is that the 
 judgment of Addifon, who vifited that country but a 
 jittle after, may be accounted for; "for he fays, 
 " their Gardens then contained a lar^e extent of 
 " ground covered over with an agreeable mixture of 
 " Garden and Foreft, which reprefent every where an 
 " artificial rudenels, much more charming than that 
 " neatnefs and elegance which we meet with in our 
 " own country ;" but he beflows the fame encomium 
 upon the Gardens of France, where there is but little 
 reafon to believe that he really found a better ftile 
 
 than 
 
( 200 ) 
 
 than that which prevailed at home; he defired ta 
 reform a mode that difgufted him ; he faw the fault 
 and wifhed to avoid it, but had never formed an idea 
 of the perfection to which it was poflible the art could 
 be carried ; whatever differed from the obnoxious track 
 he had been ufed to afforded him fatisfa&ion, and this 
 he probably exaggerated to himfelf, and was glad to 
 make ufe of as an example to his doctrines. It is not 
 very likely that Mr. Addifon, if he were ftill living, 
 would now beftow the exalted title of heroic Poets 
 upon the defigners of Kenfington Gardens : But the 
 fact is, we were in his time the apes of France in this 
 as well as in every other frippery device of Fafhion, 
 and Le Nautre alike prefided over the tafte of Gar- 
 dening in both countries. Rapin is childjfh in his 
 precepts ; Stevens, a century before him, delivered 
 nearly the fame in profc ; and I cannot find that 
 France, at any previous time, afforded an inftance of 
 a practice better than they have prefcribed. The ge- 
 nius of Petrarch, I grant, is in fome refpect vifible at 
 Vauclufe ; but who has dared to tread in his foot- 
 {leps ?, But I do not defign minutely to trace the hi- 
 ftory of French Gardening. It is my purpofe only 
 to confirm the aflertion of the Poet, './ho vindicates 
 the Art he fings to his own country; and this, I 
 think, I have fufficiently done, by enquiring into its 
 
 ftate 
 
( 201 ) 
 
 ftate upon the Continent, and chiefly in Italy, down 
 to the time about which it feems to have had its com- 
 mencement in England ; but though admired by fome 
 of their travellers who have vifited this country, it is 
 not yet adopted by them, and confequently no modern 
 claim can come into competition with ours. Mr. 
 Gray has aflerted our originality in this particular, 
 and Algarotti has acknowledged it *. The Art is, 
 therefore, our own, and confequently the Poem, which 
 undertakes to impart its principles, has a right to 
 ;ntitle itfelf the English Garden. 
 
 Note C. Page 141. 
 In a poftfcript which the Author annexed to the 
 quarto edition of the fourth book of this Poem, in 
 which he gave a general analyfis of the whole, and 
 anfwered certain objections which had been made to 
 particular pafTages in it, he thus vindicates himfelf 
 for having prefcribed the demolition of viftas, which 
 had been defended as having in thernfelves a con- 
 fiderable fhare of intrinfic beauty : " I am," fays he, 
 " myfelf far from denying this, I only aflert that their 
 beauty is not picturefque beauty ; and, therefore, that 
 it is to be rejected by thofe who follow pidturefque 
 principles. It is architectural beauty, and accords 
 
 c only 
 
 * See Memoirs of the Life s»nd Writings of Mr. Gray, Let. 8. Sect. 5. 
 
( 202 ) 
 
 only with architectural works. Where the Artift 
 follows thofe principles, villas are certaintly admif- 
 fible; and the French, who have fo long followed 
 them, have, therefore, not improperly (though one 
 cannot help fmiling at the title) given us, in their 
 Dictionary of Sciences, an article of ArchheElure du 
 yardinage. But did Gafpar Pouflin, or Claude Lor- 
 rain, ever copy thofe beauties on their canvas ? Of 
 would they have produced a picturefque effect by 
 their means if they had ? I think this fingle confidera- 
 tion will induce every perfon of common tafte to 
 allow that thefe two principles oppofe one another; 
 and that whenever they appear together, they offend 
 the eye of the beholder by their heterogenous beauty. 
 If, therefore, viftas are ever to be admitted, or rather 
 to be retained, it is only where they form an approach 
 to fomc fuperb mqnfion fo fituated that the principal 
 profpect and ground allotted to pi&urefque improve- 
 ment lie entirely on the other fide j fo much fo that 
 the two different modes of planting can never appear 
 together from any given point of view ; and this \% 
 the utmoft that I can concede on the fubjecl." 
 
 Note II. Verfe 395. 
 
 With flone. Egregious madnefs ; yet purfud 
 Akho' this feems to be the principle upon which 
 
 this 
 
( 203 ) 
 
 this falfe tafte was founded, yet the error was detected 
 by one of our firft writers upon architecture. I fhall 
 tranfcribe the paflage, which is the mere remarkable 
 as it came from the quaint pen of Sir Henry Wotton : 
 44 I muft note," fays he, " a certain contrariety be- 
 " tween building and gardening : for as fabricks 
 44 fhould be regular, fo gardens mould be irregular, 
 44 or at leaft caft into a very wild regularity. To ex- 
 44 emplify my conceit, I have km a garden, for the 
 " manner perchance incomparable, into which the 
 44 firft accefs was a high walk like a terras, from 
 4< whence might be taken a general view of the whole 
 44 plot below, but rather in a delightful confufion, 
 44 than with any plain diftin£lion of the pieces. 
 44 From this the beholder defcending many fteps, was 
 44 afterwards conveyed again by feveral mountings 
 44 and valings, to various entertainments of his fcent 
 *' and fight : which I fhall not need to defcribe, for 
 " that were poetical ; let me only note this, that 
 « every one of thefe diverfities, was as if he had been 
 44 magically tranfported into a new garden." Were 
 the terras and the fteps omitted, this defcription would 
 feem to be almoft entirely conformable to our prefent 
 ideas of ornamental planting. The paflage which 
 follows is not lefs worthy of our notice. 44 But tho* 
 44 ether countries have more benefit of the Sun than 
 Cc 2 44 we, 
 
( 204 ) 
 
 " we, and thereby more properly tied to contemplate 
 «* this delight ; yet have I fecn in our own a delicate 
 " and diligent curiofity, furely without parallel among 
 c; foreign nations, namely in the garden of Sir Henry 
 " Fanfhaw, at his feat in Ware-Park ; where, I well 
 " remember, he did fo precifely examine the tinctures 
 " and feafons of his flowers, that in their fettings, 
 " the inwardeft of which that were to come up at the 
 " fame time, fhould be always a little darker than 
 *' the utmofr, and fo ferve them for a kind of gentle 
 « fhadow." This feems to be the very fame fpecies 
 of improvement which Mr. Kent valued himfelf for 
 inventing, in later times, and of execuing, not indeed 
 with flowers, but with flowering fhrubs and ever- 
 greens, in his more finifhed pieces of fcenery. The 
 method of producing which effect has been defcribed 
 with great precifion and judgment by a late ingenious 
 writer. (See Obfervations on modern Gardenings feet. 
 14th, 15th, and 16th.) It may, however, be doubted 
 whether Sir Henry Fanfhaw's garden were not too 
 delicate and diligent a curiofity, fince its panegyrift 
 concludes the whole with telling us, that it was 
 «' like a piece net of Nature, but of Art." See Reli* 
 quia JVsttoniana, page 64, edit. 4th. 
 
 Note 
 
( 205 ) 
 Note III. Verfe 412. 
 The wilds of tajie. Fes, fagejl Verulam, 
 Lord Bacon, in the 46th of his efiays, defcribes 
 what he calls the platform of a princely garden. If the 
 Reader compare this defcription with that which Sir 
 William Temple has given in his effay, intituled, 
 The Gardens of Epicurus, written in a fubfequent 
 age, he will find the fuperiority of the former very 
 apparent j for though both of them are much obfcu- 
 red by the falfe tafte of the times in which they were 
 written, yet the vigor of Lord Bacon's genius breaks 
 frequently through the cloud, and gives us a very 
 clear difplay of what the real merit of gardening 
 would be when its true principles were afcertained. 
 For infrance, out of thirty acres which he allots for 
 the whole of his Pleafure- ground, he fclects the firft 
 four for a lawn, without any intervention of plot or 
 parterre, " becaufe," fays he, " nothing is more plea- 
 " fant to the eye than green grafs kept finely fhorn." 
 And " as for the making of knots of figures, with 
 " diverfe coloured earths, that they may lie under 
 « the windows of the houfe, on that fide which the 
 " garden funds, they be but toys, you may fee as 
 " good fights many times in tarts." Sir William 
 Temple, on the contrary, tells us, that in the garden 
 at Moor-park, which was his model of perfection, the 
 
 firft 
 
( 205 ) 
 
 hrft Inlet to the whole was a very broad gravel walk 
 garnifhed with a row of Laurels which looked like 
 Orange-trees, and was terminated at each end by a 
 fummer-houfe. The parterre or principal garden 
 which makes the fecond part in each of their defcrip- 
 tions, it muft be owned, is equally devoid of fimplicity 
 in them both. " The garden," fays his Lordfhipj 
 *' is beft to be fquare, encompafTed with a (lately 
 " arched-hedge, the arches to be upon carpenters 
 " work, over every arch a little belly enough to re- 
 " ceive a cage of birds, and, over every fpace, be- 
 " tween the arches, fome other little figure with 
 " broad plates of round coloured glafs, gilt for the 
 " fun to play upon." It would have been difficult 
 for Sir William to make his more fantaftic ; he has, 
 however, not made it more natural. The third part, 
 which Lord Bacon calls the Heath, and the other the 
 Wildernefs, is that in which the Genius of Lord 
 Bacon is moft vifible ; " for this," fays he, " I wifh 
 " to be framed as much as may be to a natural wild- 
 <c nefs." And accordingly he gives us a defcription 
 of it in the moft agreeable and picturefque terms, 
 infomuch that it feems lefs the work of his own 
 fancy than a delineation of that ornamental fcenery 
 which had no exiftence till above a century after it 
 was written. Such, when he defcended to matters 
 
 ©f 
 
( 207 ) 
 
 of mere Elegance (for when we fpeak of Lord Bacon, 
 to treat of thefe was to defcend) were the amazino- 
 powers of his univerfal Genius. 
 
 Note IV. Verfe 447. 
 All that the Nymph forgot, or left forlorn. 
 See Spencer's Fairy Queen, Book 4th, Canto the 
 10th : the paflage immediately alluded to is in the 
 21ft Stanza. 
 For all that Nature, by her mother wit, 
 
 Could frame in earth and form of fubftance bafe 
 Was there ; and all that Nature did omit, 
 Art (playing Nature's fecond part) fupplied it. 
 
 Note V. Verfe 453. 
 
 That work, " where not nice Art in curious knots, 
 See Milton's inimitable defcription of the garden 
 of Eden. Paradife Loft, Book 4th, part of which 
 is here inferted. 
 
 Note VI. Verfe 481. 
 
 Thou reach the Orchard, where the fparing turf 
 
 The French at prefent feem to be equally fparing 
 
 of this natural clothing of the earth, although they 
 
 have done us the honour to adopt our Bowling-greens, 
 
 and to improve upon them, This appears from the 
 
 following 
 
( 208 ) 
 
 following article of the Encyclopedic tranflated ver- 
 batim. 
 
 <£ Boulingrin. N. S. In gardening is a fpecies of 
 " Parterre compofed of pieces of divided turf wjth 
 " borders Hoping (en glacis) and evergreens at the 
 " corners and other parts of it. It is mowed four 
 " times a year to make the turf finer. The invention 
 " of this kind of parterre comes from England, as 
 " alfo its name, which is derived from Boule, round, 
 « and Grin, fine grafs or turf. Boulingrins are either 
 < 4 fimple or compound ; the Ample are all turf with- 
 " out ornament j the compound are cut into com- 
 " partments of turf, embroidered with knots, mixt 
 <« with little paths, borders of flowers, yew-trees, 
 " and flowering fhrubs. Sand alfo of different colours 
 " contributes greatly to their value." 
 
 Note VII. Verfe 489. 
 SurpaJJi?ig rule and order ." Temple, yes. 
 The paflage here alluded to is as follows : " What; 
 l« I have faid of the beft forms of Gardens is meant 
 *' only of fuch as are in fome fort regular ; for there 
 *' may be other forms wholly irregular, that may, for 
 **. ought I know, have more beauty than any of the others ; 
 *' but they muft owe it to fome extraordinary difpo- 
 fC fitions of Nature in the feat, or fome great race of 
 
 " fancy 
 
C 209 ) 
 
 M fancy and judgment in the contrivance, which may 
 " reduce many difagreeing parts into Tome figure 
 " which (hall yet upon the whole be very agreeable. 
 '* Something of this I have feen in fome places, and 
 " heard more of it from others who have lived much 
 " among the Chinefes." Sir William then gives us 
 a kind of general account of the Chinefe tafte, and 
 of their Sbarawadgi, and concludes thus : " Hut I 
 ** fhould hardly advife any of thefe attempts in the 
 " figure of gardens among us, they are adventures of 
 " too hardy achievement for any common hands ; 
 " and tho' there may be more honour if they fucceed 
 " well, yet there is more dishonour if they fail, and 
 " it is twenty to one they will, whereas in regular 
 " figures it is hard to make any great and remarkable 
 " faults." See Temple's Mifcellanies, vol. I. p. 186, 
 fol. edit. 
 
 Note VIII. Verfe 493. 
 
 Led to the fair achievement. Addison, 
 
 I had before called Bacon the prophet, and Milton 
 
 the herald of true tafte in Gardening. The former, 
 
 becaufe in developing the conftituent properties of a 
 
 princely garden, he had largely expatiated upon that 
 
 adorned natural wildnefs which we now deem the 
 
 effence of the art. The latter, on account of his 
 
 havino- made this natural wildnefs the leading idea in 
 
 D d his 
 
( 410 ) 
 
 his exqulfite defcription of Paradife. I here call Acf- 
 difon, Pope, Kent, &c. the Champions of this true 
 tafte, becaufe they abfolutely brought it into execution. 
 The beginning therefore of an actual reformation 
 may be fixed at the time when the Spectator firft ap- 
 peared. The reader will find an excellent chapter 
 upon this fubject in the Pleafures of Imagination, 
 publifhed in N°. 414 of the Spectator ; and alfo an- 
 other paper written by the fame hand, N°. 447 ; but 
 perhaps nothing went further towards deflroying the 
 abfurd tafte of clipped evergreens than the fine ridi- 
 cule upon them in the 173d Guardian, written by 
 Mr. Pope. 
 
 Note IX. Verfe 503. 
 Sweeps thro each kindred Vljla ; Groves to Groves 
 See Mr. Pope's Epiflle on Falfe Tafte, inferibed to 
 the Earl of Burlington. Few readers, I fuppofe, 
 need be informed that this line alludes to the follow- 
 ing couplet : 
 
 Grove nods to Grove, each alley has a brother, 
 And half the platform juft reflects the other. 
 
 Note X. Verfe 511. 
 The pencil's poiuer : l>nt, fir'd by higher forms 
 It is faid that Mr. Kent frequently declared he 
 caught his tafte in Gardening from reading the pic* 
 
 turefque 
 
( 211 ) 
 
 turefque dcfcriptions of Spenfer. However this may 
 be, the defio-ns which he made for the works of that 
 poet are an inconteftible proof, that they had no 
 effect upon his executive powers as a painter. 
 
 Note XL Verfe 522. 
 The fimple Farm ecllpsd the Garden's pride, 
 
 Mr. Southcote was the introducer, or rather the 
 inventor of the Ferme erri$\ for it may be prefumed, 
 that nothing more than the term is of French extrac- 
 tion. 
 
 Note D. Page 145. 
 
 Camden, who lived in the days of Spenfer, ha^ 
 defcribed Guy-Cliffe, in Warwickfhire, in a manner 
 that looks as if either the Tafte of his time was in- 
 finitely fuperior to that of the period immediately 
 fucceeding it ; or at leaft as if the Proprietor were 
 himfelf an inftance of a Genius very far tranfcenu:n. 7 
 all his cotemporaries. " Guy-Cliffe, nunc Thoma: 
 de Bello Fago habitatio, iz quae ipfa fedes eft amaeni- 
 tatis : Nemufculum ibi eft opacum, fontes limpidi 
 et gemmei, antra mufcofa, prata femper verna, rivi 
 levis et fufurrans per faxa difcurfus, nee non folitudo, 
 et quies Mufis amiciffima." Here is nothing fantaftic 
 and unnatural, which is the more extraordinary, as 
 Guy-Cliffe is fituated in the fame county with Ken- 
 D d 2 nd worth, 
 
( 212 ) 
 
 nelworth, at that time the principal feat of every 
 quaint and fumptuous departure from Nature and 
 Simplicity. 
 
 Theobalds, which Hentzner has defcribed, was 
 laid out by Lord Burleigh, who feems to have anti- 
 cipated all the abfurdities we ufually afcribe to a 
 Tafte fuppofed to have been long after imported from 
 Holland ; a Ditch full of water, Labyrinths made 
 with a great deal of labour, and a Jet d'eau with its 
 marble bafon, conftitute the principal ornaments of 
 the place ; and in a (till earlier period, we learn that 
 the Beauty of Nonfuch, the Delight of Henry VIII. 
 confided chiefly in Groves ornamented with trellis 
 work, and cabinets of verdure. " At Ulfkelf, near 
 Towton," fays Leland, " there lives a Prebendary of 
 York, pofiefTed of a goodly orchard with walks opere 
 topiario •" *and, in the year 1538, the fame author 
 defcribes " the Gardens within, and the orchards 
 without the Mote" of Wrefehill-Caftle, the antient 
 feat of the Perceys, to have " been exceedingly fair. 
 And in the orchards were mounts opere topiario, wri- 
 then about with degrees like turnings of cokil-fhells 
 to cum to the top without pain." 
 
 This is all that I will add to Mr. Mafon's notes on 
 this part of the fubjedt; I had intended to have gone 
 a great deal farther 3 and to have traced the hiftory of 
 
 modern 
 
( 213 ) 
 
 modern Gardening in England as far as diligence 
 would have fupplied me with materials ; but the fub- 
 jecl has had the better fortune to come under the 
 agreeable, the lively, and at the fame time the accu- 
 rate pen of Mr. Walpole. With all my readers I 
 rejoice that I have been thus prevented. 
 
 NOTES 
 
NOTES 
 
 UPON 
 
 BOOK THE SECOND 
 And its COMMENTAR Y. 
 
 Note XII. Verfe 10. 
 Which fills the fields with plenty. Hail that Art 
 
 THIS fimile, founded on the vulgar error con- 
 cerning the Harveft Moon, however falfe in 
 philofophy, may, it is hoped, be admitted in poetry. 
 
 Note E. Page 152. 
 This rule is founded in Nature and Reafon, and 
 its univerfal application has the fanclion of antiquity 
 to l'upport it. Quintilian, though certainly defective 
 in his tafte for Landscape, and even an admirer of 
 topiary works, has yet in the following paffage very 
 well apologized for that regularity which he in gene- 
 ral applauds, by making Utility and Profit, in thefe 
 particular inftances, reafons for it. " Nullufne fruc- 
 tiferis adhibendus eft decor ? quis neget? nam et in or- 
 
 dinem 
 
'( 2I 5 ) 
 
 dineYn certaque intervalla redigam meas arbores: quid 
 enim illo quincunxe fpeciofius, qui, in quamcunque 
 partem fpectaveris, re&Us eft ? fed protinus in id quoque 
 prodcft ut tcrrse fuccum asqualiter trahant. Decen- 
 tior Equus cujus adftri£r.a fuat ilia, fi idem velocicr. 
 Pulcher afpc&u fit Athleta cujus lacertos exercitatio 
 exprefiit, idem certamini paratior. Nunquam vero 
 Species ab Utilitate dividitur." Quint. Injl. lib. viii. 
 cap. iii. dc Ornatu. 
 
 Cicero has elegantly obferved, " Nullam partem 
 corporis (vel hominis vel ceterarum animantium) 
 fine aliqua neceffitate affi&am, totamque formam 
 quafi perfe&am reperietis Arte non cafu. Quid 
 in arboribus, in quibus non truneus, non rami, non 
 folia funt dcnique, nifi ad fuam retinendam, con- 
 fervandamque Naturam ? nufquam tarnen eft ulla 
 pars nifi venufta. Linquamus Naturam, Artefque 
 videamus; quid tarn in Navigio neceflariam quam 
 iatera, quam carinae, quam mali, quam vela? quas 
 tamen hanc habent in fpecie venuftatem, ut non 
 folum falutis fed etiam voliiptatis causa inventa zKe 
 videantur. Columnar & templa & porticus fuftinent, 
 tamen habent non plus Utilitatis quam Dignitatis. 
 Capitolii faftigium illud & caeterarum /Edium non 
 Venuftas fed NecelTitas ipla fabricata eft. Nam cum 
 ftftet habita ratio quemamodum ex utraque parte tecH 
 
 aqua 
 

 ( ai6 ) 
 
 aqua delaberetur, Utilitatem Templi, Faftigii Dig- 
 nitas confcquuta eft, ut etiam, fi in Ccelo Capitolium 
 ftatueretur ubi imber efle non pofTet, nullam fine 
 Faftigio dignitatem habiturum fuifle videatur. Hoc 
 in omnibus item partibus Orationis evenit ut Utili- 
 tatem ac prope Neceflitatem fuavitas quaedam & Lepos 
 confequatur." Ciceron. de Oratore, lib. iii. 
 
 I might multiply quotations without end, but will 
 clofe with a paflage from the practical Architect 
 Vitruvius, which may ferve as a comment on the 
 above beautiful obfervation of Cicero : " Quod non 
 poteft in veritate fieri, id non putaverent (Antiqui) 
 in imaginibus factum, pofie etiam rationem habere. 
 Omnia enim certa proprietary, & a veris Naturae 
 deductis moribus traduxerunt in operum perfectiones ; 
 & ea probaverunt,' quorum Explicationes in difputa- 
 tionibus rationem pofTunt habere Veritatis." Vitruv, 
 lib. iv. cap. ii. de Ornament is Columnarum. 
 
 Note XIII. Verfe 119. 
 Than does this fylvan Dejpct. Yet to thofe 
 See Book the Firft, line 84. See alfo Mr. Pope's 
 Epiflle to Lord Burlington, line 57, 
 
 Confult the Genius of the place in all, &c. 
 A fundamental rule, which is here further enlarged 
 
 upon from line 126. 
 
 Note 
 
( 21 7 ) 
 
 Note XIV. Verfe 222. 
 ( And that the tyrant's plea) to work your bar?;:. 
 Alluding to Milton. 
 
 So fpake the Fiend, and with necefftty. 
 The tyrant's plea, excus'd his dev'lifh deeds. 
 Paradise Lost, book iv. line 39;, 
 
 Note XV. Verfe 327. 
 Is curbed by mimic fnarcs ; toe jlendereft twine 
 Linnaeus makes this a characteriftical property of 
 the fallow deer ; his words are, arcetur Jilo horizontal;. 
 (See Syft. Nat. Art. Dama.) I have fometimes (tt\\ 
 feathers tied to this line for greater fecurity, though 
 perhaps unnecefLrily. They feem, however, to have 
 been in ufe in Virgil's time, from the following paf- 
 fage in the Georgicks : 
 
 Stant circumfufa pruinis 
 Corpora magna bourn : confertoque agmine cervi 
 Torpent mole nova, et fummis vix cornibus extant. 
 Hos non emiflis canibus, non caflibus ulli?, 
 Punicecsve agitant pavidos formidine fennce : 
 Sed fruftra oppofitum trudentes pe&ore montem 
 Cominus obtruncant ferro. 
 
 Georg. lib. hi. v. 368. 
 
 £ e Rureus's 
 
( ai8 ) 
 
 Ruseus's comment on the fifth line is as follows : 
 linea, aut funiculus erat, cut Plumes implicabantur 
 varus tincles color ibus y ad feros terrendas^ ut in rctia 
 agerentur. And a fimile, which Virgil ufes in the 
 twelfth book of the iEneid, v. 749, and another in 
 Lucan's Pharf. lib. iv. v. 437, clearly prove that the 
 learned Jefuit has rightly explained the paflage. 
 
 Note F. Page 159. 
 I omitted, in the Commentary, to take notice of 
 the Feathers which the Author has mentioned as a 
 means of retraining deer, becaufe in the foregoing 
 Note he feemed to think them unneceflary ; and there- 
 fore I conceived that he introduced them only as a 
 poetical embellifhment founded merely on clafiical 
 authority ; but I have fince learned that the practice 
 it ill prevails in many, perhaps all of our Engliih forefts, 
 particularly in that of Whittlebury. It fliould feem, 
 therefore, that its continuance thro' ages muft be 
 fupported by experience of its ufe, and that a hori- 
 zontal line without thefe feathers would not be a 
 fufficient obstruction, 
 
 No T£ 
 
( 219 ) 
 Note XVI. Verfe 470. 
 The wife Sidonian livd : and, tko' the pcfi 
 Abdalonimus. The fact, on which this Epifode 
 is founded, is recorded by Diodorus Siculus, Plu- 
 tarch, Juftin, and Q^ Curtius ; the laft is here chiefly- 
 followed. M. deFontenelle and the Abbe Metaftafio 
 have both of them treated the fubjeel dramatically. 
 
 Note G. Page 164. 
 
 $o£spoV yiu^y-ii; t?&*t, <pi\®-> wccg-w, evnnp&' elipctl®; x<BHf&> 
 atpxyrii, Up$ xj vrxtxyyt; Stuv IraiY-xpTz'ivv t£ iWBrKyyxiu* 
 x^ xhuu» x^ •n-^oyforivv Kr@* p\y l» &np.QxpxVnt, oXiyag%txv 
 ti x^ rvgxtviox wtulot f/.x?.ifx pirn yzapyix. 
 
 Ttugyoi tt^wto* pin ruv ix. yn$ y.xfauv to^ otoziy.xiri Sioh; 
 twrt£%Kfi.aot — yiugyuv (piXxvSgwaot ph at iv/xi, wtpy/ju 
 «i vWixi »C7 oiXEMW 'TTO/uv, apotpot avfjificuv, xfJLQipoi y.zy.uy. 
 
 Maxim. Tyr. DifTertat. xiv. 
 
 E e 2 NOTES 
 
N O 
 
 UPON 
 
 BOOK THE THIRD 
 And its C O M M E N T A R Y. 
 
 Not e H. Page 165. 
 
 TH E refpect Mr. Gray had for the Art of Gar- 
 dening, appears in his letter to Mr, How, to 
 which I have before referred my reader, (fee Note B, 
 p. 102.) but which I fhall here infert at large, be- 
 caufe 1 have fince been informed that a Poem on the 
 fame fubjecl: has been lately published in France, and 
 is there highly efteemed, in which the Author, like 
 the reft cf his- countrymen, afcribes the origin of 
 our Gardens to the Chinefe. •* He (Count Algsrotti) 
 is highly civil to our nation, but there is one point in 
 which he does not do us juftice; I am the more foli- 
 citous about it, becaufe it relates to the only tafte we 
 can call our own ; the only proof of our original talent 
 in matter of pleafurc, I mean our fkill in Gardening, 
 or rather laying out grounds: and this is no fmall 
 honour to us, faice neither France ncr Italy have ever 
 
 had 
 
( 221 ) 
 had the leaft notion of it, nor yet do at all compre- 
 hend it when they fee it. That the Chinefe have 
 this beautiful art in high perfection feems very pro- 
 bable from the Jefuit's Letters, and more from Cham- 
 bers's little difcourfe publifhed fome years ago; but it 
 is very certain we copied nothing from them, nor 
 had any thing but Nature for our model. It is not 
 forty years fince the Art was born among us, and as 
 fure we then had no information on this head from 
 China at all." See Memoirs of Mr. Gray, Scclion v. 
 Letter viii. 
 
 In the laft fmaller Edition of Mr. Walpole's Anec- 
 dotes of Painting, the reader will alfo find a very 
 entertaining and important addition made to his hiftory 
 of Gardening on this very fubjeel: (fee vol. iv. p. 283.) 
 which puts the matter out of all doubt. Yet it is to 
 be obferved, that Mr. Gray and Mr. Walpole differ 
 in their ideas of Chinefe perfection in this Art : But 
 had Mr. Gray lived to fee what he calls Chambers's 
 little difcourfe enlarged into a differtat'iGn on oriental 
 Gardening by Sir William Chambers, Knight, it is 
 more than probable he would have come over to his 
 friend's fentiments; certain it is he would never have 
 agreed with the French, in calling this fpecies of 
 Gardening Le gout Argh-Chinois. 
 
 Note 
 
( 222 ) 
 
 Note XVII. Verfe 12. 
 Place I the Urn, the Bujl, the fculptur'd Lyre, 
 Mr. Gray died July 31ft, 177 1. This book was 
 beo-un a few months after. The three following lines 
 allude to a ruftic alcove the author was then building 
 in his garden, in which he placed a medallion of his 
 friend, and an urn; a lyre over the entrance with 
 the motto from Pindar, which Mr. Gray had prefixt 
 to his Odes, <J>J2NANTA SYNETOIEI, and under it on 
 a tablet this ftanza, taken from the firft edition of his 
 Elegy written in a country church-yard. 
 
 Here fcatter'd oft, the lovelieft of the year, 
 By hands unfeen, are fhowers of violets found; 
 The Redbreaft loves to build and warble here, 
 And little footfteps lightly print the ground. 
 
 Note XVIII. Verfe 122. 
 Let England prize this daughter of the Eajl 
 Our common Laurel was firft brought into the 
 Low Countries A. D. 1576 (together with the Horfc 
 Chefnut) from Conflantinople, as a prefent from 
 David Ungnad, the Imperial Ambaffador in Turkey, 
 to Clufius the famous Botanift. It was fent to him 
 by the name of Trabifon-Curmafi, or the Date of 
 Trebifond, but he named it Lauro-Cerafus. 
 
 N T E 
 
( 223 ) 
 Note XIX. Verfe 354. 
 Deepen your dripping roofs ! this feverijh hour 
 Thefe lines were written in June, 1778, when it 
 was remarkably hot weather. 
 
 Note XX. Verfe 366. 
 Shuts to the tuneful trifling of the Bard, 
 Rene Rapin, a learned Jefuit of the laft century, 
 who wrote a didadtic Latin Poem on Gardens, in four 
 books, by way of fupplement to Virgil's Georgics. 
 The third book treats the fubject of water, or more 
 properly of water-works, for it is entirely made up 
 of defcriptions of jets d'eau, and fuch fort of artificial 
 baubles. 
 
 Note XXL Verfe 388. 
 And winds with foorter bend. To drain the reft 
 See Book the fecond, ver. 50 to ver. 78, where the 
 curve of beauty, or a line waving very gently, is 
 not only to prevail in natural pathways, but in the 
 courfe of rivulets and the outline of lakes. It gene- 
 rally does fo ; yet in the latter it is fometimes found 
 more abrupt : in artificial pieces of water, therefore, 
 fharper curves may be employed than in the fo: 
 tion of the fand or gravel- v 
 
 N 
 
( 2H ) 
 Note XXII. Verfe 4^2. 
 Tlwt facile mode which His inventive powers 
 Mr. Brindley, who executed the Duke of Bridge- 
 water's canal, and invented a method of making dams 
 to hold water, without clay, ufing for this purpofe 
 any fort of earth duly tempered with water. 
 
 Note I. Page 176. 
 The method of conducting thefe mounds, which 
 is called " puddling," confifrs only in greatly moifr- 
 ening and turning the foil (of whatever nature it may 
 be) in the manner in which mortar is tempered ; for 
 thus its parts are brought clofer together, and in its 
 almoft fluid ftate the influence of attraction is allowed 
 to operate, to turn to each other and bring into con- 
 tact thofe furfaces which are bell adapted to cohefion, 
 a principle fo univerfal, that even in fand it is found 
 fo ftrong as to render it, after fufficient working 
 water- proof. Where an unmeafurable weight of 
 water was to be reiifted, I have feen the operation 
 thus performed ; a deep perpendicular trench was 
 dug out about four feet wide ; in this, as incident to 
 its fituation, the water fprung up very plentifully, 
 and into this the foil that was railed was again re- 
 turned by degrees, being trampled and beaten, and 
 turned with (hovels and fpades, exactly (as 1 faid 
 
 before) 
 
( 225 ) 
 
 before) as if it were mortar, by which means it be- 
 carne perfectly vifcous : beyond this point labour is 
 ufelefs ; for attraction has taken place and no more 
 can be added. The practice, on a very confined fcale, 
 was known before Brindley, but he firft developed its 
 principles, applied it indifcriminately to every foil, 
 and ufed it to great and extenfive purpofes, and 
 therefore may juftly be allowed the honour of having 
 been the inventor. 
 
 Note K. Page 176. 
 We fo feldom fee the rock-work of thefe artificial 
 Cafcades well executed, that perfons of a refined pic- 
 turefque tafte, are apt to explode them, and to think 
 of them as they do of artificial Ruins and imitative 
 Buildings, that they ought never to be put into exe- 
 cution. Our Author, however, has ventured to re- 
 commend both, the one here, and the other in the 
 fucceeding book ; and this, in my opinion, very 
 juftly, becaufe the arguments againft their ufe are 
 founded only on that abufe which has taken away 
 all likenefs from the imitation; and, furcly, that they 
 have been ill imitated affords no reafon that they 
 cannot be well imitated ; on the contrary, there is 
 great reafon to attempt a copy upon better principles, 
 and execute it with truer tafte becaufe there are feencs 
 F f and 
 
( 226 ) 
 
 and fituations in Nature which abfolutely call fof 
 fuch objects to give them their laft and flnifhed per- 
 fection. It is as necefiary, therefore, for the Gardener 
 to fupply them upon his living canvafs, as for the 
 Landfcape Painter to difplay them upon his dead one ; 
 and he is capable of doing this, becaufe he has fome- 
 times actually done it with full effect. 
 
 Note XXIII. Verfe 47 i. 
 Rejoice ; as if the thundering Tees himfelf 
 The fall of the Tees, near Middleton in York- 
 fhire, is efteemed one of the greateft in England. 
 
 Note XXIV. Verfe 492. 
 A Naiad dwells : Line a is her name : 
 This idea was conceived in a very retired grove zt 
 Papplewick in Nottinghamfhire, the feat of Frederick 
 Montagu, Efq; who has long honoured me with his 
 friendfhip, where a little clear trout-flream (dignified 
 perhaps too much by the name of a River) gurgles 
 very delicioufly. This frream is called the Lin, and 
 the fpring itfelf rifes but a little way from his plan- 
 tations. Hence the name of this Naiad is formed. 
 The village itfelf, which is fituated on the edge of the 
 foreft of Sherwood, has not been without poetical 
 aotice before, Ben Johnfon having taken fome of his 
 
 Dramatic 
 
( 227 ) 
 
 Dramatis Petfona from it, in his unfinished Pafroial 
 Comedy, called The Sad Shepherd. 
 
 Note XXV. Verfe 512. 
 To Commerce and to Care. In Alar gar it's grove, 
 St. John's College in Cambridge, founded by Mar- 
 garet Countefs of Richmond, mother of Henry the 
 Seventh. 
 
 Note XXVI. Verfe 528. 
 JVho Jlole the gift of Thetis. Hence the caufe, 
 Alluding to the Ode to a Water Nymph which 
 the Author wrote a year or two after his admiflion into 
 the univerfity. See his Poems, Ode II. 
 
 F f 2 NOTE? 
 
N O 
 
 UPON 
 
 BOOK THE FOURTH 
 And its COMMENTAR Y. 
 
 Note XXVII. Verfe ior. 
 A thnc-Jlruck Abbey. An impending grove 
 
 IT was faid in the firft Book, ver. 384, that of thofe 
 architectural objects which improved a fine natural 
 EngliJI) profpecl, the two principal were the Caftle and 
 the Abbey, In conformity with this idea, Alcan- 
 der firft begins to exercife his taffe, by forming 
 a refemblance of thofe two capital artificial features, 
 uniting them, however, with utility. The precept is 
 here meant to be conveyed by defcription, which had 
 before been given more directly in Book II. ver. 21. 
 
 Beauty fcorns to dwell 
 Where life is exil'd. 
 
 Note 
 
( 22 9 ) 
 
 Note L. Page 182. 
 
 If we confider how Gothic Edifices were origi- 
 nally conftrucled, it will appear how very defectively 
 they have been, for the moll part, imitated. In or- 
 der, therefore, to obviate this practice, I will here 
 give a fummary and brief defcription both of fuch as 
 were Military and Ecclefiaftical. 
 
 The Gothic Castle, or military ftruclure, con- 
 fided in every inftance of the Keep or Strong-hold, 
 and the Court or Enclofure annexed to the Keep. 
 
 The Keep was a great and high tower, either 
 round or fquare, for the moft part fituated on an arti- 
 ficial elevation, the entire top of which it ufually 
 occupied. Advantage alfo was frequently taken of a 
 naturally high fituation. 
 
 If the tower was fquare, it often had annexed to 
 it fquare projections, generally at the corners, and 
 about mid- way between them, to act: as buttreffes, of 
 which, however, they do not carry the appearance, as 
 they exhibit a front greater than their projection, and 
 do not diminifh in their projection as they afcend. 
 When round, I have frequently feen the Kerp without 
 any buttrefs whatever. 
 
 The great Portal or door of entrance into the Keep, 
 was always at the lead one floor high from the ground, 
 and was ufually entered by means of an external ftair-. 
 
 cafe 
 
( 230 ) 
 cafe and veftibule, which was ftrongly fortified. This 
 ftair-cafe led only fo high as the portal, and the land- 
 ing-place at the head confifted for the moft part of a 
 draw-bridge which was worked from within the Keep, 
 and which, when raifed, not only cut off all com- 
 munication, but by leaning againft and covering the 
 portal, ferved exceedingly to ftrenghen it againft an 
 enemy that might already have taken poffefHon of the 
 veftibule and ftair-cafe. 
 
 There was feldom any aperture for a confiderable 
 height from the ground ; and as the apartments of the 
 Lord or Commander of the Caftle were near the top, 
 it was only there that any aperture appeared which 
 exceeded the fize of a loop, and even there the win- 
 dows were of but fmall dimenfions. 
 
 The Keep was ufually embattled at top, but the 
 battlements have in general been defaced by time and 
 ruin. 
 
 The wall of the Court, or Enclofure was always 
 connected with the Keep, and the entrance into it 
 was ufually by a great arch ftrongly fortified, and 
 pafiing between two towers connected by the wall 
 through which the arched-way was carried. — There 
 was never any great arch in the Keep itfelf. 
 
 As the wall commenced at the Keep at both fides, 
 it was commonly carried down the hill, and fre- 
 quently 
 
( 23i ) 
 
 quently comprehended not only the defcent but alfo 
 a part of the plain beneath. 
 
 The height of the wall, where it joined the Keep, 
 was fometimes regulated by the height of the great 
 portal that led to the principal apartments, which, for 
 the moft part, occupied the third ftoryj for the ftair- 
 cafe, by which this was approached, was often built 
 within the fubftance of the wall itfelf, in which cafe 
 there was no other external veftibule. 
 
 Loops were frequently made in the wall of theEn- 
 clofure ; for it was of fuch dimenfions as not only to 
 contain a pafiage for maintaining a communication 
 among the parts of the fortrefs within its thicknefs, 
 but had fometimes even apartments either for confine- 
 ment of prifoners, or for ftores. 
 
 The reader, who wifhes for farther information on 
 this fubjecT:, is referred to Mr. King's ingenious and 
 accurate Obfervations on ancient Ca/tles. 
 
 Ecclesiastical Buildings, or Abbies, con- 
 fided generally of the great Church, a Refectory, a 
 Chapter-Houfe, and a Cloyfter, with the neceflary 
 accommodations of Kitchen, Dormitory, &c. 
 
 The Church was ufually in the form of a crofs, 
 
 in the center of which rofc the tower. — From eaft 
 
 to weft it was always 'considerably longer than from 
 
 north to fouth. 
 
 The 
 
( 23 2 ) 
 
 The great weft end was the place of entrance into 
 the Church ; here, therefore, the greatcft degree of 
 ornament was beftowed both on the portal and the 
 window over it. 
 
 The lateral walls were ftrengthened by buttrefTes 
 which always diminifhed as they rofe, and between 
 every two windows was a buttrefs. 
 
 Within, the infulated columns ran in rows corre- 
 fponding with the buttrefTes without. 
 
 As a crofs affords two fides to each of many 
 fquares, one of thefe fquares was ufually compleated, 
 and the other two fides were fupplied, the one by the 
 cloyfter, which was frequently carried in length from 
 north to fouth, and the other by the refectory and 
 chapter-houfe, which flood at right angles with this 
 cloyfter, and parallel to the body of the Church from 
 eaft to wefl. 
 
 The cloyfter was fometimes carried into length, 
 and fometimes furrounded a fquare court; over the 
 cloyfter was the cuftomary place for the dormitory. 
 
 None of the parts of the Abbey at all approached 
 to the height of the Church. 
 
 The great pointed arch was an invention fubfequent 
 to the building of many Abbies, which have fmall 
 round- topped windows ; thefe, therefore, may very 
 well be placed in the fides of the Church } but in the 
 
 weft 
 
( 233 ) 
 Weft end, for the mod part, the pointed arch was in* 
 troduced as a high ornament by fuccceding Archi- 
 tects. 
 
 There never yet was built an external column* 
 nor an internal buttrefs; miniature imitations of thefe 
 were indeed promifcuoufly introduced among the 
 fmaller ornaments of the building j but the rule is in- 
 variably true with regard to the great ftruclure itfelf. 
 
 The ftone-work of Gothic buildings was very 
 neatly hewn and jointed ; and even now their very 
 ruins are by no means rough on the furface, except 
 in the immediate neighbourhood of the fpot where 
 time has made a breach, or where they have been 
 ftripped of their cafmg. 
 
 Though the rules of Gothic Architecture have not 
 been fo diligently inquired into as thofe of the Greek, 
 yet certain we may be, from the refemblance which 
 prevails, not only in the whole, but in the parts of ail 
 great Gothic edifices among themfelves, that they 
 were conftructed upon rules which it would bs better 
 for us to invefligate than difpenfe with in favour of 
 the filly caprices which we daily fee executed under 
 the name of Gothic Buildings, to thedifgrace of 
 our Obfervation and Tafte. I have feen a Gothic 
 G g Tc-ii 
 
( *34 ) 
 
 Ternple, an open Gothic Portico, a Gothic Cupula, 
 and I have feen an arched Gothic Rotunda ! 
 
 Magnitude is zjine qua non of Gothic Architecture. 
 I have been forced to make ufe of the qualifying 
 terms ufually, for the mojl part, &e. becaufe I cannot 
 fay that any of thefe rule?, tho' general, are without, 
 perhaps, many exceptions. I am writing, not for the 
 benefit of the Gothic Architect, but his picturefque 
 Imitator, for whom thefe few precepts and cautions, I 
 truft, will be found fufficiently precife. 
 
 The reader will not fuppofe, that by thus delinea- 
 ting the rules by which thefe two forts of edifices were 
 conftruited, I recommend to the imitator an exact: 
 copy of the whole of either, much lefs that I would 
 wifh h'nn to execute on a fmall fcale what can only 
 have probability when pradtifed on a great one. I 
 only require a judicious felecfJon of the p~rts of fuch 
 buildings, and that each may be made with exadtnefs 
 to occupy its proper place. A remnant of the 
 Keep, of the great gate of entrance, or even of a fingle 
 tower, with an additional length of ruined wall, will 
 frequently anfwer the purpofe of imitation in the mi- 
 litary ftyle very completely, while a fingle high-arched 
 window or portal, a part of a low groyned cloyfter, 
 and a few mutilated columns juftly arranged within 
 the fuppofed body of the Church, will equally well 
 
 anfwer 
 
( 235 ) 
 itnfwer it in the ecclefiaftical fryle : But the general 
 faults that have prevailed in thefc kinds of imitation 
 is, firft, that of defigning too much, perhaps a whole ; 
 fecondly, the executing that whole upon a pigmy 
 fca'.e ; thirdly, the introduction of a capricious mode 
 of ornament ; and, laftly, a total neglect of the real 
 pofuion of the parts. The beft, perhaps the only good 
 rule that can be followed, is to copy fome beautiful 
 fragment of an antient ruin with the fame fidelity 
 that one would copy a portrait, and happily for our 
 purpofe England abounds with fuch fragments ; but 
 let us ever avoid invention where our proper bufinefs 
 is only imitation. 
 
 The defcription of Alcander's manfion remarkably 
 coincides with Leland the Antiquary's account qf 
 Greenwich in its antient ftate. 
 
 Ecce ut jam niteat locus petitus, 
 Tanquam fydereae domus cathedrae ! 
 Quae faftigia picla ! quae feneflrae ! 
 Quae turres vel ad aftra fe efFerentes ! 
 
 Kvx»ngt \\c-y.x, ver. 31c 
 
 Leland died A. D. 1552. 
 
 G g 2 Note 
 
( 2 3 6 ) 
 
 Note XXVIII. Vcrfe 131. 
 
 And fright the local Genius from the fcene. 
 
 A precept is here rather more than hinted at; but 
 
 it appeared to be fo well founded, and yet fo feldom 
 
 attended to by the fabricators of Grottos, that it feem- 
 
 ed neceflary to Aide back a little from the narrative 
 
 into the didactic to inculcate it the more ftrongly. 
 
 Note XXIX. Verfe 157. 
 His Galatea : Yes, tl) impajjiond Touth 
 Alluding to a Letter of that famous Painter, writ- 
 ten to his Friend Count Baltafar Caftiglione, when 
 he was painting his celebrated piclure of Galatea, in 
 which he tells him, ejjcndo careflia dl belle donne, io mi 
 fervo di certa idea che viene alia mente. See Bellori 
 Difcriz. delle imagini dipinie da Raffaelle d'Ur&im, or 
 the Life of B. Caftiglione, prenxt to the London 
 Edition of his Book entitled, II Cortegiano, 
 
 Note XXX. Verfe 201. 
 Irregular, yet not in patches quaint, 
 There is nothing in picturesque Gardening which 
 fhould not have its archetype in unadorned Nature. 
 Now, as we never fee any of her plains dotted with 
 <]ihxvered patches of any fort of vegetables, except, 
 perhaps, fome of her more barren heaths, where even 
 
 Furze 
 
( 237 ) 
 
 Furze can grow but fparingly, and which form the 
 moll difagreeable of her fcenes ; therefore the prefcnt 
 common mode of dotting clumps of flowers, or fhrubs 
 on a grafs-plot, without union, and without other 
 meaning than that of appearing irregular, ought to 
 be avoided. It is the form and eafy flow of the grafly 
 interftices (if I may fo call them) that the dcfigner 
 ought firft to have a regard to; and if thefe be well 
 formed, the fpaces for flowers or fhrubbery will be at 
 the fame time afcertained. 
 
 Note XXXI. Verfe 218. . 
 Jllight fafely flourijli ; zvhere the Citron fiveet, 
 M. Le Giradin, in an elegant French Eflay, writ- 
 fen on the fame fubjecl:, and formed on the fame 
 ■ principles, with this Poem, is the only writer that I 
 have feen (or at leaft recollect) who has attempted to 
 give a ftove or hot-houfe a picturefque effecT:. It is 
 his hint, purfued and confiderably dilated, which forms 
 the description of Alcander's Confervatory. See 
 his EiTay, De la compofition dcs Pay/ages. Gen. lyy/. 
 
 Note XXXII. Verfe 358. 
 The Linnets warble, captive none, but lur'd 
 See Roufleau's charming defcription of the Garden 
 pf Julie, Nauvelle Eloife, 4 partie, lett. nth. In 
 
 confequence 
 
( * 3 8 ) 
 confequence of pursuing his idea, no birds are intro- 
 duced into Alcander's Menagerie, but fuch as arc 
 either domefticated, or chufe to vifit it for the fecurity 
 and food they find there. If any of my more delicate 
 readers wifh to have theirs flocked with rarer kind of 
 fowls, they muft invent a piclurefque Bird-cage for 
 themfelves. 
 
 Note XXXIII. Verfe 427. 
 
 Till, like fatigud Villario, foon we find 
 
 See Pope's Epiftle to Lord Burlington, ver. 88. 
 
 Note XXXIV. Verfe 448. 
 
 Tho foreign from the foil, provokes thy frown. 
 It is hoped that, from the pofition of this River- 
 God in the menagerie ; from the fituation of the bun's 
 and vafes in the flower-garden ; and that of the flatue 
 in the confervatory, the reader will deduce the follow- 
 ing general precept, " that all adventitious ornaments 
 of fculpture ought either to be accompanied with a 
 proper back-ground (as the Painters term it) or intro- 
 duced as a part of architectural fcenery; and that 
 when, on the contrary, they are placed in open lawns 
 or parterres, according to the old mode, they become, 
 like Antaeus and Enceladus mentioned in the begin- 
 ning of this book, mere fare-crews," 
 
 Note 
 
 
( n$ ) 
 
 Note XXXV. Verfe 462. 
 " If true, here only" Thus., in .Milton's pbrafe 
 See Milton's Paradife Loft, b. iv. ver. 248, &c. 
 
 Note XXXVI. Verfe 499. 
 To thofe that tend the dying. Both the youths 
 Thefe lines are taken from the famous paflage in 
 Hippocrates in his book of Prognoftics, which has 
 been held fo accurately defcriptive, that dying perfons 
 are, from hence, ufually faid to have the fades Hip- 
 pocratica. The paflfage is as follow : p) ? liua, '<i>9atyet 
 
 xotAoi, y.:o~z$oi Qj/A'eTE'oluKorti, dree -^vyjx xl ^•j\iircc\u.ivcc, 
 to, Xotot Tat u'ruv ctTTBrpa.fjt.y.iiiit, xj to esfjxst to irsgl to 
 perw&ov, ffitXypot te x} irepAiltzjAiMiv xj na^ctkiw \ov, xj to 
 •^ruy.-j. rs .'/•■j.ixn^ itfaira'aa %p.ago» rs ■/, *J y.sXxv ion *} 
 
 Note XXXVII. Verfe 646. 
 He bids than raife : it feenid a Hermit 's cell ; 
 If this building is found to be in its right pofition, 
 ftruciures of the fame kind will be thought improperly- 
 placed when fituated, as they frequently are, on an 
 eminence commanding an extenfive prolpect. I have 
 either feen or heard of one of this kind, where the 
 builder fcemed to be fo much convinced of its incon- 
 gruity, that hz endeavoured to atone for it by the 
 
 following ingenious motto; 
 
 Defpiccre 
 
( 240 ) 
 Defpicere unde queas alios, paffimque videre 
 Errare, atque viam palanteis quaerere vita?. 
 
 Luc. lib. ii. v. g. 
 But it may be faid, that real Hermitages are fre- 
 quently found on high mountains : Yet there the 
 difficulty of accefs gives that idea of retirement, not 
 eafily to be conveyed by imitations of them in a Gar- 
 den-fcene, without much accompanying {hade and 
 that lownefs of fituationj which occafions a feclufion 
 from all gay objects 
 
 Note M. Page 187. 
 
 Cicero has beautifully exprefled a fimilar fentiment 
 in the following terms' : 
 
 Turn Pifo : Naturane nobis hoc datum, dicam, an 
 errore quodam, ut cum ea loca vidc-amus, in quibus 
 Memoria dignos viros acceperimus multos effe verfatos, 
 ma^is movcamur, quam fiquando eorum ipforum aut 
 favSta audiamus, aut fcriptum aliquod legamus? veJut 
 ego nunc moveor : venit enim mihi Platonis (memo- 
 ria fc.) in mentem, quern acceperimus primum hie 
 (in Academiay},) difputare foliturh: cujus etiam illi 
 hortuli propinqui non memoriam foldm mihi afferunt 
 fed ipfum videntur in confpedlu meo hie ponere j hie 
 Speufippus, hie Xenocrates, hie ejus auditor Polemo ; 
 cujus ipfa ilia feflio fuit quam videmus-^-tanta vis ad- 
 
 monhionia 
 
( 24i ) 
 monitionis ineft in locis ut non fine causl ex his me- 
 moriae ducla fit difciplina. — Cic .. lib. v. a I 
 init. (vide quo que quod ibid. :::.) 
 
 My bufinefs, as an illuftrator of the Englifh Gar- 
 den, properly ends here; but as the Author thought 
 fit, in a general Poftfcript to the firft edition of his 
 Poem, not only to ailign his reafons for comp ofi ig 
 this fourth Book, in a ftyle fo different from thcfe 
 that go before it, but to defend the particular T 
 in which he has conveyed his precepts, in a manner 
 that I think reflects as much honour upon his heart, 
 as the defign and conduit of the Story does upon his 
 invention and iudgment, I chufe here to reprint the 
 two paragraphs for the mere fatisfa&ion of declaring 
 my own concurrence with the fentiments they con- 
 vey. 
 
 " Though this fubiect was in itfelf as fufce 
 of poetical embellifhment as any that preceded it, 
 and much more fo than thofe contained in the fe- 
 cond book ; vet I was apprehenfive that defcriptive 
 poetry, however varied, might pall when continued 
 through fo long a poem; and therefore, by inter- 
 weaving a Tale with the general theme, I have given 
 the whole a narrative, and in fome places a dramatic 
 caft. The idea was new, and I found the execution 
 H h 
 
( 242 ) 
 
 of it fomewhat difficult : However, if I have fo far 
 fucceeded as to have conveyed, through the medium 
 of an interefting ftory, thofe more important princi- 
 ples of tafte which this part of my fubjc£r. required, 
 and if thofe rules only are omitted which readily re- 
 fult from fuch as I have defcriptively given j if the 
 judicious place and arrangement of thofe artificial 
 forms, which give the chief embellifhment to a 
 finifhed gardcn-fcene, be diftin£tly noticed, I am 
 not without hope that this conclufion will be thought 
 (as Sir Henry Wotton faid of Milton's juvenile 
 Poems at the end of a mifcellany) to leave the reader 
 in fome fmall degree con la bocca dolce. 
 
 With rcfpect to the criticifms, which may be made 
 on this laft book, there is one fo likely to come from 
 certain readers, that I am inclined to anticipate it ; 
 arid taking for granted that it will be faid to breathe 
 too much of the fpirit of party, to return the follow- 
 ing ready anfwer : The word Party^ when applied 
 to thofe men, who, from private and perfonal mo- 
 tives, compofe either a majority or minority in a 
 houfe of parliament, or to thofe who out of it, on 
 fimilar principles, approve or condemn the meafures 
 of any adminiftration, is certainly in its place : But 
 in a matter of fuch magnitude as the prefent Ameri- 
 can 
 
( 243 ) 
 can War, in which the cleared interefts of mankind 
 are concerned, the puny term has little or no mean- 
 ing. If, however, it be applied to me on thisocca- 
 fion, I fhall take it with much complacency, con- 
 fcious that no fentiment appears in my Poem which 
 does not prove its author to be of the Party of 
 Humanity." 
 
 FINIS. 
 
n/5^. y lf