544
GARDENING.
roduce cultivated fields, and .even morsels .of a. forest-appearance,by the sides of those endless and tiresome walks that stretched outof one into another without intermission. But this was not tillother innovators had broke loose too from rigid symmetry.
“ But the capital stroke, the leading step to all that has follow-ed, was the destruction of walls for boundaries, and the inventionof fosses—an attempt then deemed so astonishing, that the com-mon people called them Ila 1 Ha’s ! to express their surprise atfinding a sudden and unperceived check to their walk. A sunkfence may be called the leading step, for these reasons. Nosooner was this simple enchantment made, than levelling, mow-ing, and rolling, followed. The contiguous ground of llie parkwithout the sunk fence was to be harmonized with the lawn within ;and the garden in its turn was to be set free from its. prim regula-rity, that it might assort witli the milder country without. Thesunk fence ascertained the specilic garden ; but that it might notdraw too obvious a line of distinction between tbe neat and therude, the contiguous out-lying parts came lobe included in a kindof general design ; and when nature was taken into the plan, underimprovements, every step that was made pointed out new beau-ties, and inspired new ideas. At that moment appeared Kent,painter enough to taste the charms of landscape, hold, and opi-nionalive enough to dare and to dictate, and horn with a geniusto strike out a great system from the twilight of imperfect essays,lie leaped the fence, and saw that all nature was a garden. Hefelt the delicious contrast of hill and valley changing impercepti-bly into each other, tasted the beauty of the gentle swell or con-cave scoop, and remarked how loose groves crowned an easy emi-nence with happy ornaments ; and while they called in the distantview between their graceful stems, removed and extended theperspective by delusive comparison. Thus the pencil of his ima-gination bestowed all the arts of landscape on the scenes he han-dled. The great principles on which he worked were perspec-tive, light, and shade. Groups of trees broke too uniform or tooextensive a lawn; evergreens and woods were opposed to theglare of the champaign ; and where the view was less fortunate, orso much exposed as to be beheld at oilce, lie blotted out someparts by thick shades, to divide it into variety, or to make the'Tidiest scene more enchanting by reserving it to a farther advanceof the spectator’s step. Thus, selecting favourite objects, andveiling deformities by screens of plantations ; sometimes allowingthe rudest waste to add its soil to the richest theatre : he realizedthe compositions of the greatest masters in painting. Where ob-jects were wanting to animate his horizon, his taste as an architectcould bestow immediate termination. His buildings, his seat.., histemples, were more the works of his pencil than of his compasses.We owe the restoration of Greece and the diffusion of architec-ture to his skill in landscape. But of all the beauties he added tothe face of this beautiful country, none surpassed his managementof water. Adieu to canals, circular basons, and cascades tumblingdown marble steps, that last absurd magnificence of Italian andFrench villas. The forced elevation of cataracts was no more.The gentle stream was taught to serpentize seemingly at its plea-sure ; and where discontinued by different levels, its course ap-peared to he concealed by thickets properly interspersed, andglittered again at a distance, where it might he supposed naturallyto arrive. Its borders were smoothed, but preserved their wavingirregularity. A few trees'scattered here amt there on its edgessprinkled the tame bank that accompanied its meanders ; andwhen it disappeared among the hills, shades descending from the"heights leaned towards its progress, and framed the distant pointof light under which it was Ion, as it turned aside to either handof tiie blue liorizon. ' Thus, dealing in none hut the colours of na-ture, and catching its most favourable features, men saw a newcreation opening before their eyes. The living landscape waschastened or polished, not transformed. Freedom was given to-the forms of trees: they extended their branches unrestricted;and where any eminent oak, or master-beech, bail escaped maim-ing, and survived the forest, bush and bramble was removed, andail its honours were restored to distinguish and shade the plain.Where the united plumage of an ancient wood extended wide itsundulating canopy, and stood venerable in its darkness, Kentthinned the foremost ranks, and left hut so many detached andscattered trees, as softened tbe approach of gloom, and blended achequered light with the thus lengthened sliadows of the remain-
ing columns. Succeeding artists have added new master-strokes ,to these touches; perhaps, improved or brought to perfectionsome that have been named. The introduction of foreign treesand plants, which we owe principally to Archibald D’Argyle,contributed essentially to the richness of colouring so peculiar toour modern landscape. The mixture of various greens, the con-trast of forms between our forest-trees and the northern and WestIndian firs and pines, arc improvements more recent than Kent,or but little known to him. The weeping willow, and every flo-rid shrub, each tree of delicate or hold leaf, are new tints in thecomposition of our gardens.”
Gardening, in the perfection to which it is now brought inBritain , is entitled to a place of considerable rank among the li-beral arts. “ It is,” says Mr. Wheatley, “ as superior to landscape-painting as a reality to a representation : it is an exertion of fancy ;a subject for taste ; and being realized now from the restraint ofregularity, and enlarged beyond the purposes of domestic con-venience, the most beautiful, the most simple, the most noblescenes of nature, are all within its province. For it is no lon-ger confined to the spots from which it takes its name ; but regu-lates also the disposition and embellishments of a park, a farm, aforest, tkc. and the business of a gardener is to select and applywhatever is great, elegant, or characteristic, in any of them ; todiscover, or to shew, all the advantages of the place upon whichhe is- employed ; to supply its defects, to correct its faults, andimprove its finalities.” But though all these encomiums are justlydue to gardening, upon the large scale of an ornamental garden,including a park, farm, forest, &e. yet our limits here require,that we treat on that part of gardening which regards usefulnessand convenience more than ornament.
Of the Choice of Ground for a Garden.
In the choice of a place proper for a garden, the most essentialpoints to he considered are, the situation, the soil, the exposure,water, and prospect.
I. The situation ought to be such as is wholesome, and in aplace neither too high nor too low ; for if a garden be too high,it will be exposed to the winds, which are very prejudicial totrees; and if it he too low, the dampness, the vermin, and thevenomous creatures that breed in ponds and marshy places, willadd much to its insalubrity. The best situation is on the side ofa hill, especially if the slope be easy, and almost imperceptible ;if a good deal of level ground be near the house ; and if it aboundwith springs of water ; for, being sheltered from the fury of thewinds and the violent heat of the sun, a temperate air will he en-joyed ; and the water that descends from the top of the hill, eitherfrom springs or rain, will not only supply fountains, canals, andcascades for ornament, but, when it has performed its office, willwater the adjacent valleys, and, if it be not allowed to stagnate,will render them fertile and wholesome.
II. A good soil is next to be considered ; for it is scarce pos-
sible to make a fine garden in a had soil. There are indeed me-thods of meliorating ground, but they are very expensive ; aiidsometimes, when the expence has been bestowed of laying goodearth three feet deep over the whole surface, a whole garden hasbeen ruined, when the roots of the trees have reached the naturalbottom. To judge of the quality of the soil; observe whetherthere he any heath, thistles, nr such like weeds, growing spon-taneously in it; for they are certain signs that the ground is poor.Or if there be large trees growing thereabouts, observe whetherthey grow crooked, ill-shaped, and grubby ; and if they be of afaded green, and full of moss, or infested with vermin ; in all suchcases, the place is to be rejected. But if it he covered with grassfit for pasture, the depth of the soil may he tried. To know this*dig holes ill several places, six feet wide and four deep ; and ifthere he three feet of good earth it will do very well, but less thantwo will not be sufficient. The quality of good ground is neitherto he stony nor too hard to work ; neither too dry, too moist, nortoo sandy and light; nor too strong and clayey, which is theworst of all for gardens. ,
ill. The next requisite is water ; tha want of which is one ojthe greatest inconveniences that can attend a garden, and "'illbring a certain mortality upon whatever is planted in it, especiallyin the greater droughts that often happen in a hot and dry situa-tion in summer ; besides its usefulness in fine gardens for makii’S
fountafart